Desire's Slave

by Delilah Devlin

  He came to another door and peered into a large room. There was clothing strewn over chairs and a long mirrored wall, but no one inside. A door on the far side of the room beckoned him. “Darak, let’s try this way.”

  He heard a gasp and turned toward it. A young woman was huddled in a corner, her large brown eyes wide with fright.

  “Hello there,” Drago said, and hunkered down in front of her. “We won’t harm you. We’re looking for friends of ours.” He held out a hand to her. “Let me help you up.”

  The woman shook her head. “I’m hoping Mogi forgets about me. I’m not ready to go out there.”

  Drago dropped his hand.

  Darak nudged hem. “We haven’t time for this. We have to hide. Mogi will be looking for this one in a few minutes.”

  Drago ignored his testy partner and continued to smile at the girl. “What is your name?”

  “Fahgwat.”

  Drago suppressed a wince. “The name must mean something very pretty.”

  A little smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “I’m named for a flower.”

  “Well, Little Flower, perhaps you can help us. We are looking for two women who were sold earlier, Calandra and Mary.”

  Fahgwat’s eyes rounded. “They were already taken to the Hazar’s ha’arem. You will not be allowed to see them.”

  “Can you tell me the direction to this ha’arem?”

  Fahgwat blinked. “Are you the trader who has broken her heart?”

  Drago rocked back on his heels. “She may be angry at me, but I haven’t wounded her that way.”

  The young woman nodded sagely. “You are both denying your hearts.”

  “Come on, Drago,” Darak said. “We have to go.”

  Drago looked into Fahgwat’s eyes. “Little Flower, is this what you truly want from your life?”

  “This is all I know. I am frightened now, but Mogi tells me that is to be excepted.”

  “If you had the chance for a life elsewhere, where you could choose your own mate, would you be happier?”

  She bit her lip and giggled. “Would the men take their clothes off and perform for me on a stage?”

  Drago grinned. “I bet they would.”

  “Then I would most certainly want to see that.”

  Drago held out his hand. “Then come with us.”

  This time she took it and let him pull her to her feet. “The ha’arem is very well guarded. How will you get inside?”

  “Yeah,” Darak said. “I’d like to hear this too. You’re going to get us both castrated.”

  “We aren’t going into the ha’arem unless you have a death wish, Darak. We’ll wait until the women are in the Hazar’s quarters.”

  “But his rooms are on the highest floor of his palace. I’ve seen him in the window.” Faghwat tugged on his hand. “Unless you sprout wings, you will never make it inside.”

  “We’ll need rope,” Darak said.

  “The stables, then?” Once again, Drago looked to Fahgwat.

  She shook her head. “Just what sort of plan did you two have?”

  “Little Flower, we’re playing it by ear.”

  *

  “The Hazar was much impressed by the report of your performance.” The head concubine, Delia, stepped out of the water and waited while servants patted her skin dry.

  Calandra settled her arms atop the cool white tile rimming the pool, and let her head fall back on her shoulders. After the tension of non-stop arousal, her body was weakened and she needed sleep. “Can we stay here a little longer?” Calandra asked. Delia raised one haughty eyebrow. “Of course not. We must hurry to get you prepared. He is most impatient to enjoy you.”

  When Delia turned to accept a robe, Mary made a face at Calandra. Calandra smothered a giggle, and reached for a towel.

  Delia was a tight-ass. Tall and slender, her back was impossibly straight. At their first meeting, she’d lifted her chin and stared down her long, aquiline nose as if something very rotten were beneath her feet.

  Not that she’d been unkind. Mary and Calandra had been led naked by guards straight from the auction house to the ha’arem’s doors, where Delia had greeted them and brought them immediately to a bathing pool.

  Still suffering from the throes of the Passionmaker, Calandra had nearly wept with relief when Delia had produced a glass containing the antidote. Then Delia had surprised them by joining them in the bath. Of course, she’d only joined them to in order to lay down the rules of the house.

  “Then the Hazar was at the auction?” Mary asked.

  “Oh no. He rarely leaves the palace.” Delia shrugged into a robe. “Usurpers lay in wait outside our doors. No, his guards keep watch for him at the auction. They let him know when something special comes along.”

  “What’s so damn special about us?” Mary asked, her tone disgruntled.

  “Our master’s taste normally runs toward younger fare,” Delia said with a sniff. “But reports of your unusual appearance and, shall we say, rapport, intrigued him.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll grow bored once he’s sated his taste for your exotic flesh.”

  After they were dried, Mary and Calandra were led into another room, also covered in sterile white tile and were invited to sit in plush, peacock blue chairs. Four women, all dressed in baggy white gahnas, stood in a row as they passed.

  “You will follow the directions of the servants,” Delia said, as she drifted toward the door. “If you cause them any trouble, you will only be wasting your precious energy. Am I clear?”

  Not knowing what to expect, Calandra nodded, happy to see the last of the older woman as she left.

  “There’s no hair left for them to take,” Mary said. “I wonder what other tortures they have in store for us.”

  One servant placed a silver tray on the table between the two chairs. Devices that resembled inoculation wands lay in a bed of white linen. Calandra and Mary shared an uneasy look, and then a servant stood in front of Calandra and lifted her left breast in one hand. With the other hand she picked up the wand and brought it to the nipple.

  Calandra dug her fingers into the arms of the chair. “What the hell?”

  Faster than the words left her mouth, a small gold ring was inserted through the base of her nipple. The procedure had been entirely painless. When the right breast was pierced, Calandra let out a relieved breath. “That wasn’t so bad.” She glanced at Mary.

  If looks could cause harm, the scowl that Mary delivered to the two working over her small breasts would have incinerated them where they stood.

  Calandra jerked her gaze back to find a fine gold chain, interwoven with blue sapphires, clipped between her nipples. It was long and sagged to her lap.

  “Please stand, mistress.”

  When hands pushed her legs apart, Calandra let go a horrified, “I don’t think so.” She tried to close her legs, but surprisingly strong arms wrapped around her hips and held her in place.

  As she watched, her labia were spread with rough fingers, and her clitoris was squeezed. Then a third ring was inserted through her clit and attached to the chain. When she was released, she collapsed onto her chair, grateful to be off her wobbly legs.

  “No fucking way.” Mary’s angry voice echoed loudly in the room. All four servants were lifted from their feet when she raised her arms.

  “Mary,” Calandra broke in, “They’ll just bring more people in here. Beside it didn’t hurt.”

  Mary snarled, and then fisted her hands on her hips. The servants quickly pierced her clit and attached a gold chain, beaded with lustrous brown topaz. “It’s a good thing you don’t love that trader—’cause if I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.”

  “Mistresses,” one of the servants said, “you are to follow me to the next chamber.”

  The next room held several lounge chairs upholstered in red leather. The servant indicated that Mary and Calandra should climb onto them, and then left the room as two more women entered carrying baskets.


  After buffing their already manicured nails, the women dressed their hair, braiding Calandra’s with beads of precious blue stones, and sliding diamonds on pins into Mary’s short hair. Then they were asked to stand, and perfumed cream was applied to their bodies.

  “Enough! He grows impatient,” Delia said from the door. “Come with me.”

  Calandra took a deep breath and followed Delia from the room. They were lead up an ornately carved staircase to the upper level of the building, then along a corridor with arched windows that looked out over the city of Raban.

  “I’m kind of getting used to being naked all the time,” Calandra whispered to Mary.

  “Yeah, but why is it that everyone else gets clothes?”

  Calandra shrugged.

  “What you want to bet he’s old enough to be our grandfather?” Mary hissed. “With a wrinkled prick.”

  Calandra giggled. “At least he wouldn’t be able to do us much harm with it. Besides we’re so well oiled, he’ll probably slide right off.”

  “Let’s hope he does his thing quick. I’m gonna close my eyes and pretend Darak is the one pumping on me.”

  “I’d rather see what’s coming at me.” Calandra cleared her throat. “What do you think they’d do to us if we refused to have sex with him?”

  “We’re not going to find out. We’ll just hope the guys find us soon. Darak told me to do what I had to until he rescues me.”

  Calandra remembered Drago’s furious face. If she were his woman, she didn’t think he would be as forgiving. Besides after seeing her at the sale, he probably thought she was having the time of her life.

  They approached a dark double door with guards posted to either side. Delia nodded to them and shoved open the doors. Calandra sucked in her breath at the wealth evident in the furnishings within the room. Golden marble floors were strewn with thick Samureen carpets. To her right, dark brown leather sofas framed a bathing pool and the lights of Raban flickered beyond more arched windows. On the walls, still paintings and living holograms framed in gold, provided violent splashes of color against the beige walls.

  To the left was a massive bed with ebony tree-trunk posts at each corner and creamy gauze draping to the floor—concealing what lay within the bed.

  Delia stood before the bed and clasped her hands together, bowing at the waist. “Sire, I bring your new concubines.”

  “Open the curtains, Delia,” a richly melodic voice ordered.

  Delia pulled a cord at one end of the bed and the curtains rose revealing deep red and gold pillows and a dark comforter. As the shadows were dispelled, Calandra’s heart beat faster.

  In the center of the bed lay the most exquisitely formed man Calandra had ever seen. Dark like all Arturians, his features were sharply drawn, his slanted eyes catlike, his body lean and glistening with oil that even from a distance smelled of forests and hot sex. Her gaze swept his muscled, hairless chest, past his flat, defined belly, and then widened when it reached the juncture of his thighs.

  Gold chains formed a harness that circled his hips. A gold pouch encased his balls, but his penis which rose from the center of the harness, was unadorned—by itself, a precious jewel. A shade darker than his bronze skin, it was smooth and crested with a thick purple head. And it was enormous.

  An unexpected thrill ran down Calandra’s back.

  A guilty glance toward her friend confirmed that Mary’s gaze had also been arrested by the Hazar’s impressive manhood. “Well, at least it’s not wrinkly!”

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  Laughter, deeply masculine, reverberated in the large room. “Delia, you may leave us. I don’t believe they have weapons concealed on their bodies.”

  Delia bowed again, then turned to walk to the door. The glance she shot the women as she passed was malevolent.

  “Don’t worry about her.” The Hazar sat at the edge of the bed, and then stood. “Perhaps if you please me, I will give you charge of the ha’arem.” His smile, which stretched two perfectly symmetrical lips, revealed straight, white teeth.

  On bare feet, he padded silently toward them. “Without clothes, one cannot tell who is slave and master.”

  Despite his handsome exterior, Calandra’s skin prickled when his gaze raked over her.

  He stopped in front of Mary. Because they shared the same height, they stared straight into each other’s eyes. His hand rose to her breast and cupped it. With his thumb, he rubbed her nipple. “I’ve heard wondrous tales of about these breasts.” He swung abruptly to Calandra. “I would know whether my men exaggerated.” When Calandra didn’t move, he voice grew cold, “Stimulate them!”

  Calandra jerked, then reached for Mary’s breasts. She rubbed and plucked, but they did not peak.

  “Get the jar on the right!” He pointed toward a small wooden table next to his bed. On top of it were two stoppered jars, one with a pink liquid inside, the one on the right was clear.

  Calandra brought the clear jar back with her and removed the stopper. Pouring a small amount into her palm, she placed the jar on the rug next to her feet.

  “Don’t be miserly. Use more.”

  Calandra added more, until the oil threatened to overspill her palm.

  “Rub part of it onto her breasts and the rest onto her pussy.”

  As Calandra obeyed, the Hazar circled them, touching them, randomly sampling their textures and curves. Mary’s nipples blossomed, stretching to long, thin points.

  His fingers reached for them and rolled them.

  Mary’s breath hissed out.

  “Can’t bear to be touched, can you?” the Hazar drawled, his expression gloating. “The sensation is exquisite, no?”

  When Calandra bent to rub the oil around Mary’s cunt, the man circled and cupped Calandra’s buttocks and squeezed. Her heart stilled and she darted a wary glance over her shoulder, but he simply smiled at her.

  “Now you,” he said, looking at Mary. “Do the same for your friend.”

  As soon as the oil warmed by Mary’s hands spread over Calandra’s breasts, blood rushed straight to her nipples. “Oh no. Not again.”

  He circled again, and as Mary knelt to apply oil to Calandra’s cunt, he stepped close to Mary. If she turned her cheek, her mouth would graze his penis. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? It’s called activator oil—an unexciting name for something so delicious.”

  He looked into Calandra’s eyes. “Not mind-stealing, like the drink you were given before. It simply draws heat to your genitals.” He nudged Mary’s face with this penis. “Now, rub it all over my cock. Wondrous things happen when it reacts with friction. You will see, when my cock is driving into you.”

  Mary poured a copious amount in her hands, then stroked him from the base of his penis to the purpling head.

  “Harder. Squeeze me harder.” He pushed himself, in and out, between her hands. “Enough!” he said, and pulled away. “We will eat first.” He turned from them and walked to the sofas, plucking grapes from a bunch on a low table. “Sit on either side of me.”

  Feeling like an automaton, Calandra followed him to the sofa and sat on one end.

  His eyes narrowed, and she scooted closer.

  Mary was about to take her seat, when he held up a hand. “No. I would have you fondle your friend.”

  Mary stepped around him and sat on the opposite side of Calandra, angling her body toward her. She placed a hand on Calandra’s breast, and then stared defiantly at the Hazar.

  “Don’t be stupid. Arouse her.”

  Calandra stared out at the night sky through the open arches, wishing herself a million miles from the palace. A shadow momentarily blotted the lights of the city below. “We do what we must,” she murmured, her mind racing.

  Mary kissed her lips and her mouth skimmed along Calandra’s jaw. Calandra let her head fall back against the couch, and Mary took advantage to slide down her neck before pausing over her nipples.

  Despite the angry glittering eyes she knew were watchin
g from outside, Calandra couldn’t resist the thrill when Mary tongued the new golden loop adorning the crest.

  When the Hazar leaned toward her to gently tug the chain between her breasts, Calandra moaned and a flutter of arousal awakened in her pussy. His lips latched onto her other breast and suckled loudly. While he was thus occupied, Calandra pulled on Mary’s short hair until she raised her head, and then darted a furtive glance toward the window.

  Outside Darak swung from a rope. He signaled that they should move to the bed, and then swung out of view.

  “Sire, wouldn’t the bed be comfortable for our play?” Mary asked.

  His mouth lifted from Calandra’s breast. “When I am ready. This breast deserves attention.” Again, his lips latched onto the breast, widening to suck more of the tender flesh inside his mouth. His hand slid down the curved contour of Calandra’s belly and cupped her pussy, rubbing back and forth.

  A pulsing heat curled deep in her belly. Calandra gasped when something cold and wet was pressed inside her vagina. She looked down and saw him insert a second grape.

  Rising from the sofa, he moved in front of Calandra and grasped her knees, shoving them apart.

  Calandra’s heart leapt at the strength of his hands as he positioned her buttocks at the edge of the sofa and spread her legs wider.

  Then he knelt and draped her legs over his shoulders. With his fingers, he parted her smooth, pink cunt lips and bent his head toward the juncture of her thighs.

  Calandra nearly bucked off the sofa when his tongue licked the delicate folds of her inner lips. The activator oil had sensitized the flesh, and the soft friction of his tongue increased the sensual heat.

  While he lapped, he moaned, and the sound vibrated against her flesh. With Mary’s mouth on her breast, and the Hazar’s mouth torturing her cunt, all thoughts of the men dangling outside the room fled.

  The Hazar’s tongue dipped inside her and rolled, capturing a grape. He looked up into her eyes and chewed once, then pulled Mary’s head toward him. With a kiss, he transferred the fruit to her mouth, and Mary sucked on the fruit before swallowing it.