by A. S. Etaski
I was at once unbearably excited and scared out of my mind.
Was this what they were using…during…?
I had never been close enough to an execution to see what had been holding the phallus in place while a Red Sister brutalized the condemned—male or female—nor had I wanted to be. I knew from Court talk that the female wearing a contraption like this was usually submissive to the other, who often rode it to her peak. The cait with the false cock rarely received her own satisfaction; she was the “servant,” like Kaltra had been to Jilrina. But the Red Sisters up-end that role, subvert it; it was one reason they unnerved Nobles especially.
As at an execution, I felt that strange dynamic here, close and unavoidable. That “magical device” seemed to pleasure Gaelan just being inside her, and her posture clearly indicated that she was not the bottom one between us, even being the one to wear the cock. I recalled agreeing to submit to anything, too, as long as the Sisters could satisfy me.
What in the goddess-hating-fuck have I agreed to?
My body didn’t care; my scalp prickled as my cunt anticipated yet more fucking. Like the two males dominating my body in the candle chamber, I imagined I would take that piece in whatever way pleased her most and not have much say about it. I felt the flip in the roles keenly; I felt the confusion and the urge to resist, to defend my “standing” and the usual sexual positions, but my body quivered and froze up. My slit flexed to what I saw before my eyes.
“Seeing as how your mouth is already open, Sirana,” Gaelan snickered as she braced herself and slid toward me along the lounge, settling on her knees and placing her hand on the back of my head.
I didn’t need the explicit command. Even up close her erection looked quite real, and I turned my head slightly before letting her slip the crafted cock between my lips. The texture was accurate, though the taste remained sterile as I swirled my tongue around it. I was shocked to hear Gaelan moan in response, to feel her toy shudder in my mouth like it was real. I paused but sucked on just the tip.
“Ohhh, yes, like that,” she whispered, stroking my hair, letting me suckle her like a baby. She moaned again, moving her hips to rub the round, squishy head along my tongue.
She can’t possibly feel it? But that also means that…
It suggested that the other Red Sisters I’d seen probably felt this, too. Every bit of it.
It explained a lot.
I shuddered, tightening my lips and bobbing my head to suck her and get rid of those unpleasant mental images. Still, my eyes were open in my disbelief. I’d never heard of such a device as this. Phallic toys were known, even common, but always fell short of the real thing. The wearer could never feel the tip of the damned thing!
Who made this? I thought, running my tongue along the underside as if I might find the signature of the mage scratched in. It was smooth and textured like skin. It had real body heat from the wearer. I could almost imagine I sucked on that Bred Consort instead of Gaelan’s “device.”
She reached to caress both my breasts and I moaned in response. She humped her hips to fuck harder between my lips, nudging the back of my throat with her pole. For some insane reason, I let her push past my gag flex, lodged her there and swallowed around her. She felt that, too, and shivered.
“Damned Braqth,” she murmured, trapping both my nipples between her fingers and squeezing as tiny bumps broke out on my skin. “First time? Lead is going to prize you.”
Who?
I coughed when Gaelan dragged the black, magical prick from my throat. I blinked tears back, but my cunt was in a loud trill of demand that my tits and tongue do not get all the fun. I rolled my hips in need, and she noticed.
“You want me, Sirana? How I’m shaped?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Fast learner.”
I remained still as she slid off the chaise to step behind me. I trembled as she got close enough that I could feel her heat and fairly shuddered as her hands touched my haunches. My breath shook, and I ached for her to penetrate me, in spite of how this usually worked between two females. So what if the one who wore the cock was the dominant one? That’s how Red Sisters were different.
“Show me, Sirana.”
I arched my back in answer, presenting myself, even widened my legs for her. The Red Sister gripped my hips, aimed, and pushed; I yielded, my newly fertile body sucking her in, and my heart tripped to hear her moan. I rolled my hips and pushed back against her, encouraging natural movement, and she fucked me with delicious thrusts.
Maybe it was the lasting effects of the ritual, but no feeling of threat hovered over my back with her. She may as well have been a Noble Son interested only in pleasing me while she pleased herself. I called and cried again as I climaxed twice; Gaelan slammed in and moaned the second time, peaking alongside me as her toy flexed and throbbed like a real cock. Then she stroked gently, in and out, coasting and coaxing out a few more, little groans for herself.
I was stunned. She came.
The haze in my mind left me curious if I’d find some kind of fluid afterward.
“Okay. Too fucking hot to keep standing here.”
Startled by the new arrival, my cunt clenched the tool working it. Gaelan bottomed out and seized my shoulders to hold me in place and impaled. Her toy did not soften one bit.
“Don’t move,” she instructed.
My heart slammed against my chest bone, and my face became exceedingly hot. I knew this voice, which was lower in timbre than Gaelan’s. This Red Sister had spoken to me twice before; I knew her scent and the texture of her lips. I’d recognized her at the candle chamber, and she watched my fourth trial on the Altar of Braqth.
Here she was again. Bringing a few others, from the number of boots on stone.
“A little anxious to get off the bottom rung, aren’t you, Gaelan?” said a higher voice than the short-haired one in the lead.
“A little,” she replied as if being coy. The tone sounded a little off.
They surrounded us. I was nervous, trapped on all fours upon the chaise with my knees wide and a hard pole lodged up inside me; held like a Uroan needing gelding.
“Is the novice broken in yet?” the third asked, sounding too eager as her eyes scanned the various methods for torment in the chamber.
“Not doing it here, remember?” the short-haired warrior said with an air of command, even as her eyes trailed over me from head to foot. She rubbed herself through the crotch of her leathers, an obvious whetting of a healthy appetite. “Only sent to bring them back.”
“But Lead, we’re right here,” the high-voiced one protested. “Can’t we have first claim on her before the others?”
The “Lead” lifted a red-gloved fist without taking her eyes off Gaelan and me, and the subordinate shut up.
“Elder’s waiting, Gaelan,” she said. “Pull out, clean up, get dressed. In that order.”
“Yes, Lead.”
The youngest Sister withdrew her phallus out of my sex with a wet suck and gained her feet while I quickly sat my ass down on the chaise, my heart still beating rapidly.
What does she mean, “before the others”?
Although Gaelan glanced down at her pile of equipment as if to collect it and take it with her, her Lead stepped over until I thought she was going to step on them. The older warrior crossed her arms.
“Get to it.”
I didn’t hear Gaelan’s feet as she slipped over to the fountain to remove her magic tool; she was silent until I listened to the splashing water on her crotch. The Lead’s body blocked the other two from getting near Gaelan’s stuff, but that didn’t stop them from curiously approaching me, flanking me alongside their superior. One of them, whom I was sure had been a commoner, leaned down to take a sniff even as I leaned back from her.
“Phew!” she exclaimed with a grin. “Smells like wilderness and sex.”
The Lead grinned as well. “A favorite.” She addressed me directl
y as all three loomed above. “You aren’t as cut up as I would have expected traveling naked for two cycles.”
I swallowed, uncertain what to say. Whether to say anything at all.
“She found healing in an outer dwelling,” Gaelan supplied, nearly finished and joining us to dress. She was as efficient as her summary of my return. “She also managed to both find and keep her House dagger. I have it, now.”
The Lead nodded, still watching me. “Healing, but no clothes before leaving? Not a bath?”
“She never left. She was distracted.”
“By?”
Gaelan had donned all her under layers and her boots, now slipping on her leathers, armor, and bracers. “The Priestess effects. There was a male present.”
The Lead’s expression changed from anticipation to disappointment and annoyance. She glanced at my middle and looked resentful while I held perfectly still.
“I got there in time,” Gaelan hurried to explain on my behalf, finishing up with belt and weapons and cloak. “Elder can confirm.”
“Hope so,” her superior replied, looking the younger Sister up and down, seeing her ready. “Any female witnesses?”
“None.”
A nod. “Good enough for now. Let’s go. Kiren. Lawret.”
With two matching giggles, one pulled out a black bag from her belt and the other stepped behind me and seized my hair, gathering it up to secure inside as the bag went over my head.
Shit!
The two lifted and handled me roughly as they brought me to the lizard mount again. Their questing fingers invaded my two, unprotected holes as they boosted me up; they laughed as I squirmed. Soon tied to the saddle, I at least sat astride it this time. With my wrists and ankles tied to the body of the animal, however, it proved more comfortable to lean against the long neck than to try to sit up and hunched over. I attempted to hold still. All my senses except the one tuned to the Deep Thrum of Sivaraus were muddled by the bag, anyway.
I could not help but be concerned. What did the Sisters not want me to see or know? Was I to be tested further without pause? Or maybe they didn’t want onlookers peering too closely at me? This was one of their secret initiations, wasn’t it? I was convinced that was the case when I overheard public comments as we finally, after a long ride with minimal talking, entered populated areas. I was presumed to be a prisoner, and once they even affirmed it for one curious wannabe-Matron.
“I’m sure she deserves the Wrath of the Valsharess’s elite, Sister,” the onlooker said imperiously. “Give her three lashes for me!”
I felt markedly better when I heard the leading Red Sister chuckle and mutter, “Boot-licking fool,” after we passed.
For their part, even though Kiren and Lawret had continued to poke at my vulnerable backside just to watch me become aroused against my will—I supposed because they were bored—they only did it when we were in the outskirts. Once within Sivaraus proper, they and Gaelan kept others from coming near me. No one could touch me or throw anything at me, even though some apprehended fugitives were known to suffer at public hands. Each one who tried was soundly dissuaded, and our Red Sister Lead merely said it was for the Valsharess to judge and decide. No one questioned her.
I reflected that none of them had called me by name except for Gaelan, who apparently was “the bottom rung.” I was still not on the inside of the Red Sisters yet, but I was being protected if only to save me for themselves. It finally occurred to me to wonder if failed recruits remained slaves to the Red Sisters, used such as they obviously wanted to use me. Regardless, she would be unable to be released after seeing so many secrets. Or did they save themselves the trouble or potential rebellion and just kill them after having their fun?
I won’t find out, I promised myself in the darkness of the bag. As far as I knew, I hadn’t failed yet.
Eventually, I was unlashed from the lizard mount and dragged off. The two carried me indoors somewhere, disheveled even worse than when they’d carried me out some time ago. Several doors opened and closed; I counted those and the turns but wasn’t sure what good it might do me. Boots clapped loudly on the dressed basalt, I thought because now they wanted to make noise. Finally, someone tapped a rhythm on a hollow stone, and I sensed a Ward released.
“Enter.”
The door opened, and I was shoved forcefully forward such that I could do nothing but fall hard to the ground with a grunt. I heard a pack and a weapon set down on a wooden table to the left, then the door closed a moment later. I stayed right where I was and said nothing.
The silence continued for a very uncomfortable time; from straining my senses, I knew there was only one other Davrin breathing in this smaller chamber, and a few candles emitted heat. She would be watching me. But who, and why?
I was determined to wait her out, and I stayed as I lay, curled on my side on the floor.
At long last, I heard a soft laugh. “Did they cut your tongue out beneath that bag?”
My heart surged, and heat diffused through me to hear Elder D’Shea’s voice. I squeezed my thighs together; I remained sensitive, and my body’s cravings took me at random with no apparent source of relief despite no longer being alone.
“No, Elder,” I said.
“Good. Take it off and let me see you.”
Gingerly I tugged at the drawstring beneath my jaw, loosening it, and took a clean breath of air as I lifted the bag off my head. I blinked hard, my eyes protesting the candles after such a long time out in the wilderness. I focused on her.
Elder D’Shea was dressed not in her Red Sister uniform but in a comfortable and soft-looking robe that showed her form well. It was deep purple in color but decorated with silver and red threads which formed interlocking webs in a curve that doubled back on itself. She wore sandals not much different from the Royal Consort on the “farm of solitude,” and she had a golden toe ring looped around her left, little toe.
When I looked at her elegant face, the Elder Sorceress was expressionless, sitting in observance with her hair piled atop her head in fashionable disarray, delicate, gold chains accenting her white locks. I knew she had to be around my own Matron’s age; mature at five or six hundred turns, and at that stage where presence and grace came as natural as breathing. Her force of will was potent, almost tangible when we locked gazes. She smiled with a benevolence I wasn’t sure whether to believe or not.
“Did you enjoy your first time outside the Great Cavern, Blue Eyes?”
I thought of the Consort here. Better to purse one’s lips closed and not answer than to say what I was honestly thinking. Why leave me out there alone? I could have died from sheer want.
In the candle chamber, I’d at least been some version of myself I recognized. Now, after the Tragar, the Consort, and Gaelan—and still craving cock—my confidence, or arrogance, was not so steadfast. I’d lost a great deal of control, if not all of it, and I was not happy about it.
“Say something, Sirana,” she said quietly. “Anything you wish to say.”
I paused for a heartbeat. “What mistakes must I avoid to become a Red Sister?”
Her white brows raised in mild amusement, but she seemed pleased with the question. “First tell me how you came to be here, in my room, from drifting off on Braqth’s Altar. Then I will answer your question.”
My eyes shifted as I considered what to say, and how. Lying was second nature, but I had to know whether it would do any good here. She would get nearly the whole story from the others at any time she wanted; for certain the Bred Consort, but hopefully not the Tragar. I wasn’t used to making entirely truthful reports; no one at Court was. D’Shea would know that.
“I made my way back from where I’d been deposited,” I began neutrally. “It was slow travel, as the side-effects of Braqth’s Threshold were distracting.”
She nodded, propping her chin lightly on her palm, her fingers relaxed against her smooth cheek. “Go on.”
“I did not want to fa
ce the sentries. I-I thought I would attack them, in my need. I wished to see how close I could get to the Palace without discovery. Without meeting anyone.”
“Ambitious.” She looked skeptical about the attainability of that goal. “Dangerous, too. The same as being drugged at a dinner party without a place to sleep it off.”
That seemed a well-chosen detail to me, but she was also right. No telling who might have taken advantage of my state had I continued past the first farm I found. “I found a pool which revealed a passage through the rock. I swam through it and reached a farm without having to confront the sentries.” My heart sped up and doubt caused my skin to flush hot as I hesitated here.
“Go on,” she said quietly. “Do not lie to me, Sirana, or I can’t answer your question, and I can’t help you.”
“I…discovered an isolated, Davrin bua there,” I admitted. “As I feared…I…lost control of myself and captured him.”
Her head tilted a bit, her brows drawing down. She was displeased. “And?”
My heart continued beating in my ears. “I tied him down. Got his cock inside me, but not for long enough for him to give me his seed.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Ask Gaelan. She was the one who dragged me off. He spurted all over himself.”
D’Shea’s full mouth twitched slightly. “I would have paid to see the fight that followed.”
I felt my face heating; I clearly recalled being the loser.
“Continue,” she commanded softly.
“Gaelan tied me up and took me to a cave. She used a…a magical device to give herself a phallus, and, well.” I paused, unsure how to say it.
“She did as I told her to do,” D’Shea finished.
“Which was what?” I challenged.
She was pleased enough to answer. “To find you first. To make the first time reasonably pleasant, given your condition.”
The older Davrin chuckled when I opened then closed my mouth.
