by A. S. Etaski
Panagan’s Feldeu thrust in as directed and Rausery did not stop her. Not that I expected her to override the Prime, but my attacker laughed and rutted me harder to realize it. Eventually, she forced me on all fours and Moria jammed her own erection into my mouth, gleefully blocking my air as they double-ended me, just how it had been with Thena and her team before, not stopping until they’d climaxed. Somehow, I didn’t bite down; I kept my temper.
“A win, Panagan, Moria. Stand down.”
Glowing with success and satisfaction, they withdrew without hesitation this time, and the Prime herself offered each a healing potion as Rausery walked over to me. I glanced to see the Prime inspecting their soiled erection, nodding with a cruel sneer and instructing the both of them to clean each other off.
“With your mouths,” she added, touching herself through her pants as she watched.
At least it isn’t me.
Yet.
I pulled up my torn pants, my jaw clenched tight, and I couldn’t look at Rausery’s eyes as she stood next to me. She offered me a draught as well and leaned to whisper.
“Mix the messages,” she suggested.
I took the bottle then gulped down the potion, feeling the sharp stabs of pain in my ass first get worse for several moments and then finally start to fade and feel normal.
“Take ‘em out,” I heard the Prime said. “Let’s put the tonic on them for the next loss.”
The two Sisters obeyed, each whispering different words of release to remove the bulb of her phallus from her twat.
I scowled, and I nodded to Rausery. “I want to try again. Now.”
“Good,” the Elder said abruptly as she stepped away.
She waited until the Prime acknowledged her after smearing something from a bottle on her own belt on the tips of each phallus, whispering a magic word of her own, and Panagan and Moria only just realized something had changed.
“Begin,” Rausery commanded, and I sprinted forward.
The two Red Sisters blinked, looked at their Feldeus, and moved swiftly to reattach them. I jumped Panagan before she could speak, wrenching it out of her cunt and flinging it far across the room where it landed with a heavy slap. One shrieked a threat, but I already had the proper grip around Panagan’s neck, holding for those moments I needed to make her sink to her knees, using her body as a shield when Moria lunged, knocking her sideways. Her cock was fully attached by the time I dropped her Sister unconscious to the ground.
“I’m not going to stop with your mouth this time,” she growled, eyes narrowing and white teeth gleaming in the torchlight. “You’ll be gagging on your own filth.”
“How? You’ve forgotten how to get it on your own,” I mocked. “Always need someone bolder, slug.”
The fight was short but furious. Moria injured me as I needed to sacrifice one wrist to get close enough to hold her—a sprain, not a break. We went to the ground again, but this time it was my groin against her backside. Her squealing in denial and rage ended quickly as I cut off the blood to her head and her eyes closed. By that time, however, Panagan was waking up, groggily shaking her head as she got to her knees.
Damn.
I released the pliant body and sprinted for Panagan’s Feldeu on the ground, clutching it in my strong hand. I couldn’t use it myself; I didn’t know the command word to which it responded. For that same reason, I couldn’t remove Moria’s cock, either. Nonetheless, I wanted an available weapon in my hand, not theirs.
Panagan’s bitter gaze found me holding her Feldeu soon enough, and she ground her teeth but didn’t charge me as I half-expected her to do. “You can’t wear that. What are you going to do with it?”
“Probably stuff it in Moria’s mouth. Or yours.”
Whatever the Prime had smeared on the thing worried her, I could see it. “You think you’re the only one who knows the sleeper holds?”
I shrugged, feeling a large, Jaunda-inspired smile spread over my face in spite of my sprained, throbbing wrist. Having put two Sisters down with minimal effort and fuss plus brandishing a smeared phallus in my hand, I had all the time in the Deepearth and a bit of the power back.
Panagan watched me warily as I kept a focus on the edges of her shape should she reach to toss something explosive or distracting the way Moria had. Over a quiet moment where both elder females said nothing, Moria groaned softly and began to wake up. I was aware that two awake were harder to fight off than one, but if they wanted me, they’d have to come to me. They understood that I intended to wait them out.
I dared not look away from them to glance at Rausery, who was so quiet and still in the room I could almost think she’d slipped out. She was still here, and from the contemplative look on the Prime’s face, they both just wanted to see how this ended.
Entertain her, Rausery had said.
The two Sisters tried taunting me with derisive names, but it really had little effect. They avoided the weapon the Prime had made.
“If you two only stand there, at least perform for us,” I suggested with smirking insubordination. “Panagan, since you lost your cock, how about you kneel and start suckling Moria? Give me a preview of what I can expect shoving this into her ring?”
“You’ll be sorry you healed yours tight again,” Panagan remarked.
“Tough threat for someone who lost her prick.”
The Prime’s face finally cracked upward; this was mildly amusing to her. I tried chuckling aloud, and I liked the sound of it. I laughed louder for no discernable reason. The two hesitating to spar looked at me like I was unbalanced. Rausery leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“Che’nara,” the Prime said mid-laugh, and the torches went out. The room was black.
Move.
I did so with eyes closed, listening, moving toward Rausery. There was a crack of air where I’d been standing as Panagan tossed something. I held my breath and swiftly moved through the plume, feeling the lining of my nose tingle although my mouth and eyes were tightly closed. Panagan had retreated far enough backward by the time I got there that my blind-fighting wouldn’t help me.
Fortunately, Moria remained where she had been, unwilling to move into the fouled space. My arm drew back to full strength, and I slapped her across the face with the anointed phallus. Her cry of surprise was a song to my ears, ended with my second foot strike on her. Not just luck that I hit her in the gut, and she crumpled this time, unable to breathe.
Panagan was close enough to lunge for a tackle, but I turned into and spun through it, a move I hadn’t known a mark ago. She growled and managed to grab my wrist to haul me away from Moria, but she couldn’t get that lock on my body, so I went willingly down with her to the ground, wrapping my legs around her hips and squeezing hard. She tried to snatch my sprained wrist but wasn’t fast enough as I leaned up to kiss her full on the mouth, my tongue licking her lips before I bit her.
“Augh!”
Her howl of rage left her mouth open long enough for me to yank my wrist free and thrust the head of her own Feldeu past her lips to the back of her throat. She gagged, but I kept it in place, tightening my legs to hold her to me and using my forearm to apply pressure to the back of her head. Panagan was unable to dislodge the soiled cock though she tried, and the sounds she made could have made me cum had I been more like Jilrina. By the time she’d spit it out and screamed at me, Rausery was laughing as loud as Jaunda might have, the rich voice laced with delight, filling the chamber alongside the torchlight.
“A win, Sirana,” she said. “Disengage.”
I did not hesitate to release Panagan and stand up, taking the phallus with me. I stepped a pace or two from the sputtering Sister. Moria was on the ground with gloved hands hovering above her face without touching it; she was beginning to mewl as Panagan started coughing and moaning hoarsely, her voice quickly disappearing. The Prime watched them suffer, holding out her hand when Rausery might have acted.
I understood just watching them that touching t
he stuff on their Feldeus would only make it worse. Worth noting that, sensations aside, substances that burned on real skin didn’t burn through the Feldeu. That was a quality I hadn’t known.
Again, better them than me. The Prime would have liked to see that stuff shoved deep into my body, I had no doubt.
Rausery stepped forward and held out her hand to me for Panagan’s Feldeu. I placed it in her gloved palm, and Rausery moved next to Moria. She spoke quietly but over the mewling. “Moria, remove your Feldeu and give it to me.”
The second Sister was distressed but obeyed, whispering her command word to release the item’s magical grip on her flesh and slowly slipping it out of her sex. She handed it to her Elder, her eyes still closed and her face grimacing.
“Dismissed,” the Prime said, apparently intending to have them seek an antidote for whatever venom had been on their cocks themselves. She sounded disappointed. I wondered but also shivered what the outcome might have been if she’d had her choice of Red Sisters to test me.
“I have a few more techniques to show you,” Rausery said, slipping each soiled Feldeu into its pouch and setting it on one of the few small tables set along the wall. “This time you will be fending off me.”
I made a small show of swallowing in consternation, and the Prime smiled, straightening up. She looked only now to be enjoying herself. I anticipated my orifices to be yielding several more times, although I could have been more dismayed than I was. I didn’t mind spreading for Rausery, as this part was probably to satisfy her own superior. I wasn’t sure how much hand-to-hand combat I’d get to practice, but I was determined to learn anything at this point.
“I’m ready, Elder.”
Several marks later, Elder Rausery laid me on the floor in her quarters, and I curled up. I couldn’t stand if a herd of Ornilleth thralls was bearing down on me.
“You okay?” she asked.
I sounded pathetic as I whispered a response. “M’okay, Elder…”
“No, you’re not. Give a moment.”
Goddess, I was sore. Everywhere. And filthy, and I ended up with the burning cunt and ass that the Prime had planned for me anyway, only it came directly from her. If that was what it took for the Prime to get herself off, I should have “thrown” the fight and let Panagan and Moria win. Letting those two fuck me by proxy would have been preferable.
Fortunately, I’d survived to learn for next time.
“She’ll leave you alone now, Sirana,” the Elder said as if reading my mind. She sorted her things and rummaged through a few travel bags on her walls. “You didn’t panic or fight her, so you impressed me. No one your age interests her for long, and you won’t change that. I could read her. As your Elder, I’d say let the anger go. It won’t help you.”
I wondered then how many of those scenes the Elder had watched in her time to sound so nonchalant, and if all Red Sisters had to see it that way to gain in the ranks. For the first time, I wondered whether Rausery was speaking from experience, and D’Shea might have that in common with her. Maybe they had more, being centuries older. Perhaps she was saying the Prime might be interested again once I got older? I hoped not. I’d do all I could to avoid her interest in the future.
“Novice?”
“Hear you, Elder. I understand.”
“Good. You showed enough pain. She keeps harassing a recruit if there’s a hint of defiance until that’s gone and the will’s broken. But you bent without breaking, just like D’Shea said you would.”
I wondered how she could tell I wasn’t broken. What even counted as “broken”?
“Like I said, you impressed me. You can make it as a Red Sister.” Rausery kneeled at my back, and I heard glass on glass as she opened something. “Pull down your pants.”
I didn’t have the strength to be paranoid or alert. I obeyed, settling the leather around my thighs, and she patted my leg to prompt my curling back up to give her access to both my holes at once. A shockingly cooling, soothing sensation spread over my chapped and burning netherlips as Rausery rubbed three fingers over them, and I groaned aloud in relief, unable to prevent it. The Elder chuckled, gently slipping first one, then two of those fingers inside my slit, spreading the ointment where it needed to go. Everywhere she touched, the fire went out instantly.
“Better?” she asked.
“Th-thank you, Elder.”
“Mind if I prod at your shitter next, Blue Eyes?”
The tone of the remark drew a bit of a smile; so different from the Nobles. “Not at all, Magic Fingers.”
“That’s D’Shea. Mine’s all skill.”
My eyes rolled up as she spread a generous amount of goop around my netherhole and carefully worked that inside as well. Not only was the venom from the Prime’s cock being neutralized but it was a topical healer as well. The swelling went down, and the pain faded. A tangential thought came to me as the sharpness of it all receded.
“Will you still train me for the Worship Ball, Elder?”
“Yeah. Even less time than I’d hoped thanks to catching the Prime’s eye. There’s enough left if we focus. After a rest. Undress, novice. Put your things in order over there and let’s get cleaned up.”
Rausery didn’t have a private bath like D’Shea, but she did have a basic sluicer at the back corner. There was a drain in the floor and a similar spout for water, although it was placed toward the ceiling so that we stood underneath the spatter while we scrubbed down. This set-up was intended for cleaning many Davrin at once, fighters and servants, in the fastest and most efficient way, shedding the worse of the Deepearth and conserving water. It was quick, but far from relaxing, given how many fights, traps, and forced sex started in the sluicing rooms.
The private, luxurious, and safe baths meant to get naked and lounge until the water cooled were for the Nobles, but at this small scale, I thought this was almost as nice as the Sorceress’ bath, somehow reassuring and soothing. It highlighted the difference in origin between the two Elders, too, and showed me where each was most comfortable.
Soon I felt better. Clean, healed, cold as the water wasn’t heated, but safe. Even with Elder Rausery looking down at me, watching every tick of expression I made.
“So D’Shea really hasn’t taught you much,” she observed.
“Depends what about, Elder,” I replied, watching the water stream down her dark, hard body.
This warrior’s scars were from previous injuries, for sure. D’Shea was physically softer by comparison, with far fewer blemishes, but that wasn’t a tick against her. To me, she was the perfect balance between magic and melee, Noble and commoner, with wit enough between her ears to remain out of the ruts and habits of either. Compared to the Prime and Elder Rausery, the Sorceress was a form of pure grace who, perhaps, had more in common with the Valsharess than either Priestess or Prime. In contrast, there was no doubt in my mind that Elder Rausery was built to run the entire army, if necessary.
“Hey, Blue Eyes,” she said, tapping a finger on my damp head, and I looked up. “What are you thinking?”
Elder D’Shea had asked me that, too. The Prime didn’t.
“I was thinking about scars,” I said, shivering from the chill, and Rausery stopped the water, grabbing something to towel off. There was only the one, and I wrung out my hair while she ran it over herself first. “You have them. The Prime. Even D’Shea has a couple. I had a lot of them…inside. Until recently. Or so I’m told.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Nobles avoid getting hurt where possible, pay a lot for potions to erase them. Having them implies you’re a commoner or a servant of an altar.”
Rausery grinned, handing me her damp towel to blot my skin. “Still don’t get your point, novice.”
“Do you keep them intentionally? Like a record of accomplishment?”
Rausery laughed, walking over to the box-pallet on the floor and tossing a single blanket back. She crouched and sat, elbows on her knees, watching me as I
finished drying. I could see her sex clearly.
“It’s more I don’t give a shit, novice. Did you know your peers waste their wealth on those potions, and the merchants know it? If the Nobility could fucking wait, those scars would disappear on their own. What you see on me are only the worst from the last half-century. Same with any commoner who doesn’t spend a coin at the brewers’ shops.”
If that was true, Elder Rausery surely didn’t stand back from the danger.
“What about the Prime’s scars? They looked old. Different from yours. Why aren’t they gone?”
The Elder shrugged. “Don’t know how she got them, but I’m betting they’re Abyssal scars. Those don’t fade over time. Given she works closely with the Palace and Sanctuary, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
That could even explain her tastes, I thought. Not far from what Jilrina might have become, had she lived to become a Priestess of Braqth. D’Shea’s warning about the Priestesses being barren after birthing a Sathoet returned to me as well. Abyssal scars. That might make sense. But then, how are they birthing the Royal Consorts?
I hung her towel to dry, and Rausery gestured me closer. I obeyed. Without speaking, I kneeled on the floor where she sat on the edge of the bed.
“Not what I meant,” she commented wryly, and I shrugged.
“May I taste you, Elder?” I asked, my face warming to hear myself. It was another impulse, not without genuine gratitude.
She eyed me, deciding my motive for herself. “Hm. Alright.”
Rausery braced herself on her arms, tilted her hips back to give me access, but her muscular thighs didn’t open fully until I used my hands to part them. She sighed softly as I began suckling on her netherlips, and I went slow, tired as I was. Her breathing changed in time; she was letting herself feel what I was doing. She allowed herself to enjoy it.
“Mmm, heh,” she murmured, taking a deep draw. “The caits were right. You are good at this.”
She put her hands in my hair. Her fingers felt good stroking my scalp as my tongue darted inside her, around and out and in again. By the time she heaved a shuddering exhale, her back straight as a rod, I had two fingers inside her, was flicking my tongue and using all my many tricks to service her. Her hips thrust up and she growled short and low on occasion, but she didn’t make much sound or talk.
