Possessing Allura

by Reese Gabriel

  The woman’s breathing had grown ragged and tight and she rolled back her head, her expression one of concentration, and she looked at Allura as if she were going into some kind of trance.

  ‘Confess, damn you!’ he roared, but no amount of whipping seemed to matter.

  ‘This will not work!’ shouted the dungeon keeper. ‘With every lash you only beg greater disaster to befall us all!’

  ‘I will not be questioned. I will not be disobeyed.’ The baron tossed the whip aside. ‘I will find another way.’

  Releasing the woman from her bonds he laid her on her back. ‘Let’s see if we can do something about this virginity, shall we?’

  She had no strength to resist him, and pulling apart her legs he penetrated her brutally with one shunt of his hips. He hadn’t even bothered to remove his breeches.

  ‘She’s good and wet,’ he reported, ‘just like any other slut. There’s your horrible witch,’ he mocked the others. ‘I’ll bet she’s fucked a dozen priests and temple servants if she’s fucked one. Haven’t you? Go on; keep your eyes closed, little bitch. Dream of your fake Zuranos and his huge balls and three foot tongue.’

  ‘Father of heaven,’ the dungeon keeper fell to his knees, ‘forgive him. He knows not what he says. He is an ignorant, dunderheaded whelp, and has been so all his life. Would that my mother and I had fed him to the wolves as the auger advised.’

  ‘Shut up, father,’ snarled the baron, ‘or I shall have you impaled.’

  ‘So you are the true baron!’ Allura exclaimed to the twisted old man.

  ‘I was, but I got tired of all the responsibility,’ he answered. ‘I like it much better down here. Unfortunately I didn’t have anyone else to turn things over to but this incompetent son of mine.’

  ‘Go to the demons, all of you,’ grunted Montreico as he spilt his seed into the priestess’ womb, his buttocks clenched and quivering.

  The priestess was lying inert. She hadn’t opened her eyes the whole time and Allura was scared she was dead. Apparently Montreico was too, because he was trying to rouse her.

  ‘Look at me, bitch, acknowledge your new master.’

  The priestess stirred slightly and her eyes opened, as she reached for the baron’s throat. Allura thought the grasp would be feeble, but as she squeezed Montreico began to gasp for air. ‘No,’ the priestess countered, employing a voice not her own, ‘you look at me.’

  Her eyes were red as fire, the voice a low growl, sharpened by raw cruelty. Her body shimmered and Allura saw the priestess now as she had in the great hall when first the baron stripped her naked. Montreico was trying to pull himself free but she was holding him fast. Cries of distress came from the back of his throat, scarcely human, indecipherable in their fear and panic. Allura shielded her eyes against the visions, the accumulated pain being unleashed upon the man; the compounded suffering that had taken place in the dungeon, year after year, a huge psychic ball that the baron must now swallow.

  Allura almost felt pity for him. He had his good side, and she had felt strongly for him at one time. But there were lines no mortal was allowed to cross. The shuddering of his body continued. Arcs of blue light passed between his cock and her invaded sex. He was being sucked dry of life, flames devouring his flesh. When at last the light faded there was nothing left upon the body of the priestess but shadowy wafts of smoke. Baron Montreico was no more.

  ‘My son,’ cried the dungeon keeper, ‘where has he gone?’

  ‘Where he belongs,’ said Saraveeta, rising to her feet.

  Allura ran to the priestess. The woman lay as if dead, her wrists twisted over her head, her legs still wide like a rag doll.

  ‘There is nothing you can do for her, Allura; there is nothing any of you can do,’ said Saraveeta.

  Allura watched as her old friend knelt over the inert redhead. Gently she caressed the priestess’ cheek and brushed the hair from her face. ‘Isn’t she lovely?’ Saraveeta whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Allura.

  ‘One last kiss,’ declared Saraveeta, ‘and it will be done.’

  ‘What will be done?’ demanded Allura, tired of not knowing. ‘What is happening? Are you really the princess? Have the gods spoken this to you?’

  ‘The gods speak to all of us, Allura, if we listen.’

  ‘I hear nothing. I never have.’

  ‘It’s all right, neither did I until I first laid eyes upon this dear woman. Now it all makes sense.’

  ‘What does? Explain, Saraveeta.’

  ‘Later. First the kiss; the kiss of sweet sleep, long deserved.’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured the red-haired priestess, her ruby lips dry and cracked.

  Saraveeta wet her own and leaned closer, her sleek dark hair falling over the other female’s face and mixing with her hair of copper. The touch of their lips was so sweet and desire filled, Allura felt the pull in her own body, their passion radiating outward, wiping over the princess like a warm wave, a blanket to cover her consciousness, a dream in physical form, wanting inside her, between her thighs and in her mind to bestow a gift unspeakable.

  She could hardly keep her eyes open, and the next thing she knew Saraveeta was above her, lifting her into her arms. ‘The priestess,’ Allura whispered.

  ‘She is dead,’ smiled Saraveeta, ‘and I have taken her place.’

  A thousand questions raced through Allura’s mind, but she was in no position to ask even one. ‘Hold me,’ she said to her friend. ‘Hold me tight.’

  Chapter Nine

  The Grand Duke Fortragian entered the hall to the sound of trumpets. It was much as the time before save that the old baron was now gone. In his place, to greet him, was the former baron, the onetime keeper of the dungeon, muchly scrubbed and richly garbed, though still unshaven.

  ‘Baron Alexo,’ the grand duke clasped his hand, the grip of both men strong and vigorous, ‘we had assumed you dead.’

  ‘I preferred it that way; as you know the pressures of nobility can become a bit overwhelming at times.’

  ‘Of course.’ He turned to Allura who was dressed in white, her hair coiled upon her head. She wore the crown of a princess, though more than likely she would be yielding it in just a few moments. ‘My niece, you are more lovely than ever.’

  ‘Thank you, uncle.’ She curtsied humbly, mindful that she was already more slave than free.

  ‘The great lady shall attend us presently?’ the grand duke asked. They referred, of course, not to the old priestess but to the new one, she who had been Saraveeta, mere mortal, mere slave.

  ‘Indeed.’ The old baron frowned. ‘As you know, we are here by her command. I myself had no wish to leave my dark home.’

  ‘Yes, Alexo, I do marvel at that, how a man can grow accustomed to the absence of light, to the dampness and to the perpetual misery.’

  ‘It was at times a bit bothersome,’ he confessed, ‘but where else than in a dungeon – that most delicious place of captivity and isolation – can one exercise such full and perfect power over a female? They are such marvelous creatures to be explored, my friend, so resilient and strong and yet so vulnerable. One may break them again and again finding ever lower levels of degradation. Their suffering redeemed me. I was blessed to feel and know their pain, and to bathe in their tears. This one’s included.’

  Allura lowered her eyes at the man’s reference to her three days in his charge. It shamed her to hear such talk in front of her uncle, but the say was no longer hers. It had already been established that she was not the real princess. The augers had been taken three times, each time pointing to Saraveeta. On top of this a slave had been found, a servant of Saraveeta’s family from many years ago who had confirmed the entire story, down to the last detail.

  The queen had died giving birth to Saraveeta. The switch was made in dead of night, with much weeping on the part of Allura’s natural parents, but under pa
in of sword they were forbidden to reveal the secret to anyone. Over the years they came to love their new child just as well, though it pained them no end to see Saraveeta so mistreated by the false princess. This was, Allura suspected, in part the reason they had left the kingdom, leaving behind no inheritance.

  Which meant that Allura had nothing for her legacy but her own crime of harlotry – harlotry to a man who could no longer redeem her. Slavery was her only option, and being a slut, according to her uncle – who continued to call her niece only out of kindness – had cost her the right to an honorable death, the other possible sentence. Already the former princess would have been on some auction block, save that Saraveeta had ordered her appearance in this place, in the company of the ladies and lords of the realm.

  ‘Yes, I understand; Montreico sentenced her to time in the dungeon,’ said the grand duke, as though she were not in the room.

  ‘Though my miserable killjoy of a son sent her down with the iron belt,’ the old man lamented. ‘Still, we had fun, didn’t we?’

  Allura nodded, unable to speak.

  ‘When this is over,’ the old baron whispered in her ear, ‘I am going to feed my cock deep into your mouth.’

  She felt the familiar flood between her legs, even as the grand duke excused himself to go and speak with another of his old friends. ‘I fear he heard you,’ lamented Allura.

  The baron pinched her buttock, with all the practiced cruelty of a veteran torturer. ‘What of it? You won’t have any secrets for long. And don’t think you’ll hide that pretty cunt this time. I intend to thoroughly invade it.’

  She tried to squirm away from the grip of the man, a full two inches shorter than her and thinner by twenty pounds. Where was her power now, her ability to egg him on and outdo his sadism with her own masochism? ‘Please, baron, not here.’

  ‘It’s harder up here, isn’t it? When you have a name and station.’ He grabbed a nipple through her dress. ‘Hard when people know who you are. Downstairs a different part of us takes over. The beast part, but it links to something higher, too, doesn’t it? That’s what makes us humans the go betweens, halfway between animal and god.’

  Allura winced. With desperate eyes she saw that all were seeing and pretending not to, her uncle included. Her rational mind told her all this must happen. She would be enslaved, for all to see, but still a part of her clung to her pride.

  ‘I want to hear you beg, Allura. Tell me you want it. Beg me to fuck you, right here on the floor.’

  ‘I… I do,’ she cried. ‘I beg to be fucked on the floor.’

  He grinned, the years falling from his face. ‘And you will be… slave.’

  Allura’s spine chilled at the words. Was he serious? Her discomfort made the man grin all the more. ‘And soon,’ he added for emphasis. ‘Very soon.’

  The image of herself so subjugated and violated in front of all these highborn people would stick in her brain, flooding her consciousness even as the arrival of Saraveeta was announced. That she was the new intentionary priestess, the great mother seer, could not be argued by her entrance. She wore a gown of silver that made her face glow. Her hair was dressed up like the wings of a perfect raven born to fly only in the pure skies of the gods. Her eyes were lit with a power, far more than human.

  There was no explaining the manner of her having been chosen for the job. It may have been ordained from the start of time or more recently engineered by the gods. The old high priestess had come here to save the kingdom from Montreico, perhaps knowing she would die in the process. Then again, maybe it was a kind of suicide or natural death intended to allow Saraveeta to take her place at this exact moment in time. To that end, Montreico himself may have been a pawn all along. The ways of the gods were truly mysterious, as were the ways and identities of their servants.

  ‘She is breathtaking,’ breathed Fortragian.

  ‘Let’s hope she’s less explosive than the last one,’ muttered the baron.

  Fortragian and the other men bowed deeply at her approach, making the holy sign of obeisance upon their chests. Allura, as a slave, knelt at her feet, though this woman had been her bedmate only a few hours before, showing her such mutual delight as she had never thought possible between two human beings.

  ‘Baron, I thank you for your hospitality, your house is indeed grand,’ said the priestess, as though she had not already been living here with her former mistress.

  ‘And unfortunately you are making me see far more of it than I wish,’ he replied.

  The priestess smiled, not at all put off by his impudence. ‘I assure you that was a temporary arrangement. We shall have you below ground before you know it.’

  ‘I could take that two ways, priestess.’

  She laughed, not the laugh of Saraveeta of old, but a deep, rich timbre. She was clearly changing, minute by minute now. ‘You are an honest man, Alexo, and you have no fear within you. Do you know how rare that is? You are what the gods treasure most, above silver and even gold.’

  ‘I doubt old Zuranos would put anything above his wenches, but I appreciate the sentiment.’

  ‘Baron, may I be allowed to take the high place upon the dais?’ she enquired.

  ‘Be my guest,’ he bowed.

  The priestess inclined her head, thanked him and strode to the place Montreico had so zealously, even insanely guarded.

  ‘I thank all of you,’ she said when comfortably seated. ‘You are all most gracious. I do apologize for the rather sensational nature of recent events, and for the suspense you must feel today. I promise all will make sense quickly. First, know that indeed I am the daughter of the king, hidden at birth to protect my life, the king acting under divine orders. There were those at the time who sought the life of the future priestess, hoping to end our line, but those persons long ago failed. So too has a more recent conspirator who hoped to use the person of the princess for his own ends.

  ‘This is all to great good, however, as a result of hiding me and switching me with another baby, there have arisen great confusions not easily remedied. Allura, my oldest and dearest friend, will you step forward.’

  Allura rose to present herself before the priestess.

  ‘Allura, once princess and always my friend, you have my deepest sympathies for all that has befallen you. Had I known before I would have intervened for you. But I myself did not know who I was until the former priestess came and spoke to us in this very room. One look at her and I knew my true origins. Not only as a royal person, but as a future priestess myself. It became clear to me she was of my kind and that for whatever reason the gods had placed the next in line to her office in the birthing womb of a queen, destined to die in childbirth. The next high priestess after me may be a peasant, even a whore. We cannot say. The gods use us as they will, and the gods are always to be praised and feared. Still, as a mortal myself, Allura, I feel deeply for you.

  ‘More than this, I am pledged to rescue your station and restore to you what has been taken away. Grand Duke Fortragian, will you approach me?’

  The man did so, offering a stiff military bow.

  ‘First to you, grand duke, I bring the thanks of the gods for the honorable, diligent and selfless exercise of office you have shown. The spirits of your ancestors are well pleased.’

  He bowed again, clicking his heels crisply. ‘May I both live and die in service, great lady.’

  ‘Indeed, your place in the annals is assured and well deserved. In fact, I am of a mind to expand your station further and make you king.’

  The duke’s face turned ashen. ‘But priestess, begging all forgiveness, I have no wish for this, nor am I equipped. I am far too old and I have no heirs.’

  ‘But you could marry, could you not? Perhaps to this young woman here, whom we now know is no blood of yours or the king’s. In this way the once Princess Allura will be what she should be: Queen Allura.’


  ‘But priestess,’ cried the duke, ‘she has been as a niece, even a daughter to me, it would never seem right to my eyes.’

  ‘But it is the will of the gods. It fulfills the prophecy left by the former priestess. An issue of this house is to be king. That issue will be the child of you and the baroness Allura.’

  Allura knelt once more and put her forehead to the floor. ‘Great lady, my uncle is right, this cannot be moral,’ she protested, the sudden shock making her bold.

  Saraveeta stood. ‘That which is moral is what the gods decree. Frankly, I had expected better of you all. Show a little more gratitude, if you please. You may consider this interview at an end. Baron Alexo, will you prepare my carriage. I will leave at once. Feel free to crawl back into any hole you wish after that. You have my full blessing.’

  The priestess walked imperiously past him, not waiting for an answer as she exited the chamber.

  Allura and Fortragian looked white as ghosts, but Alexo started to chuckle. ‘Maybe things aren’t so boring up here in the sunlight after all, eh? Sorry about not being able to fuck you, Allura, but it seems you’ve slipped the noose of slavery yet again. We’ll have to take a rain check. And Fortragian, all I can tell you is best find some eel root to keep that dick of yours hard – you’re going to need it to produce that litter of fine strapping sons.’

  ‘This can’t be,’ moaned Allura.

  ‘The gods are cruel.’ Fortragian clenched his fists. ‘The gods do as they will.’

  ‘No,’ Allura vowed, ‘this can’t be and I won’t let it.’

  ‘Find a way to stop it,’ snorted Alexo. ‘You’d as easily rope a cloud or piss yourself an ocean.’

  The words hit Allura like a bolt of lightning. It was true; she could not stop it. But there was one who could. It was simple, beautiful, almost absurdly easy. ‘Thank you, yes,’ she replied, ‘I will.’