by A. S. Etaski
But she isn’t fighting.
Now I had the freedom to use my hands, which I would need to coax her to climax without triggering a stubborn streak that I wondered might grow to be legendary.
If she survived long enough.
I grinned with anticipation, reveling in the feeling of kinship along with the tidy shape of her netherlips. I twisted my spine slightly, whispered down toward her ear.
“I can’t wait to taste your ass again. Enjoy what I’ve learned, scrapper, and maybe you can pay me back.”
Jael balanced on her knees but stopped breathing for several moments. If I could have seen her face, her expression might have been one of bafflement.
I left her to whatever state she was in as I continued caressing her everywhere, from mashed tits to flat belly, flanks and haunches, thighs and everywhere in between. I dipped my tongue into her crack, grinding my Feldeu against her back as I nudged the smooth, sweaty pucker open to deeper exploration. Her fingers strained to brush the hard ridge in my pants a few times.
Ohhh, yes…
My hands rubbed her inner thighs, fondled and explored her clit, mound, and sex. It took much longer for the recruit to feel my red leather fingers slipping into her twat than it had my tongue spearing her netherhole, and Jael grunted when it finally happened. She adjusted her knees, opened her stance a little wider to let me go deep. Panagan huffed, sounding halfway impressed.
“Those are good tricks,” she commented.
Jael’s ass squeezed shut on the tip of my tongue and pushed it out.
“Shush,” I suggested.
We almost had to start over, the recruit and me, but Jael relaxed into my ministrations more the second time. I knew she was trying to let it come, because climaxing could help her survive, just as I had learned before her.
I touched her, exploring. The naked cait twitched, her toes clenching as she grunted again, catching her breath.
Good. Good novice.
Jael trembled, breath shaky as my tongue slid as deep as I could go from this angle. My fingers from each hand teasing her cunt, all of it from hole to nub to crowning fur. I didn’t care how slimy and stained my gloves got, because the contrast of textures made Jael squirm as she slowly lost her hold upon her fear, her anger. At least for the moment.
Worth it. I’ll trade Gaelan something for a true-clean spell on my gloves later.
“Mm-nngh!” Jael groaned.
Her pucker flexed around my tongue and against my lips. Her deep, slick channel grasped at inquisitive digits while her hard, pink button rose up stiff and proud against the soft red leather of my fingertips. She was close. Panagan was stroking her cock harder and harder, eyes wide as the recruit writhed in my inverted hold, as I dry-humped her hot body. I was near the edge as well.
“Ah…” Jael uttered on a gasp. “Ah! Ohhh…”
Her climax started with a flutter, then accelerated to a roll with a low, animal grunting. It turned into a crashing wave and a loud, long cry. A squirt of fluid gushed out over my fingers. Messy and inelegant; not a thing faked or performed.
That did it for me.
“Fuck!!”
I came just after her, grinding my magic cock as it sizzled and throbbed between my legs, sweeping up into my burning head. There was a little pain, but not as much.
“Jael, fuck!”
As I came down, I didn’t hear Kain’s voice. Quiet. Just the shivering cait beneath me panting, groaning, and Panagan’s fapping until she got to her feet and joined us, standing facing me, her jutting Feldeu aimed at Jael’s sopping cunt and ass.
“Hold her still,” my Sister demanded.
Jael choked on a yelp as the archer dipped her Feldeu full-length into her slit, stroking to get it good and wet. I held Jael’s ass cheeks open as Panagan pulled out and pressed the head to the glistening, relaxed pucker. Jael tensed up.
“Shhh, easy,” I said, not sure who I was talking to. “Take it slow. No hurry.”
Both seemed to listen, which was one small, divine favor, and with her red uniform and red cloak still on, only her leather pants open and pushed to her thighs, Panagan fucked young Aurenthietti up her ass, relishing the tight grip and easy domination. The Red Sister was not too rough, and Jael did not fight so hard as to be hurt, possibly because I was there the entire time, guiding them. I watched as the black cock sank into Jael’s bung over and over, stroking the cait’s clit some more so she enjoyed some of it.
Jael found a way to grip my own erection while she held in place to receive a Red Sister how she was supposed to when she was at the bottom. If we had been on a bed or pallet, I wondered if she might have bitten the blanket like Reishel did. By the end, as Panagan found her release with her toy inside the younger female, she was in a much better mood. She pulled out, smacked Jael’s ass with a playful slant, and sighed deeply.
“Ahh. I needed that.”
Jael still panted beneath me, licked her lips and swallowed to try and wet a dry mouth. I crawled off her at last, prepared if she decided to bolt—the exit was blocked, there was nowhere to go—or if she attacked us. Fortunately for her, she did neither. The young Noble from the poorest House sat back carefully on her backside, grimaced a little, and lifted her gaze to look directly at me with bright, copper eyes. I smiled and offered her a drink from my waterskin. She took it, and I nodded, satisfied.
Now you know you can do it once. You can do it again and still get back to your feet.
We just had to bend enough to get past the Prime’s rock-rigid rules.
I didn’t expect Panagan to be fully behind my plan, even if Sisters weren’t supposed to leave each other to die. She would throw me under the falling rock if she thought it might save her skin. I wanted to do one better and keep the rock from falling in the first place, but part of that plan involved guessing what Varessa D’Shea wanted.
As it seemed Jaunda was still interested in keeping my ass around, and I still owed her a “chase” for that favor earlier, the Lead sneaked us unseen to meet Elder D’Shea, who then began to inventory all our belongings. My Sister and I were stripped as naked as Jael, though not blindfolded and bound as she was.
The most awkward moment was when D’Shea found Gaelan’s Feldeu on me. She raised an eyebrow.
“It proved useful,” was all I said.
The Sorceress considered me, took a delicate sniff of the magic item, and set it down beside my other weapons without giving me a hint what she thought about that.
With stubborn protest from Panagan and steady coaxing from Lead Jaunda, the Sorceress agreed to bring in Elder Rausery before the full inspection of the recruit, and to share in the first debriefing from the two Red Sisters returned. My heart pounded with her arrival as I hoped I could persuade them both once again. Lead Jaunda was sent outside, and the Elder General joined us soon after. Rausery scanned Jael where she sat quietly on the floor.
“Aurenthietti is alive,” she remarked, and I didn’t consider it a good sign that she still called Jael by her House name, not a recruit or a novice. “And in fairly good shape, assuming she still has eyes behind that strap.”
“She does,” D’Shea answered, her arms folded, shoulders square. “It remains to be seen if she uses them beyond this meeting. I’ve already determined she drank Sirana’s preserver potion, negating the trial according to tradition.”
I spotted the moment when the Elders met eyes and then D’Shea’s dark red eyes shifted, landing squarely on me.
She added, “I’d like to know under what circumstances.”
Rausery smirked. “Kinda curious, too.”
The Elder General walked around Panagan and me. Her slow circle did not show her a lot of what we’d been through. Most of the marks from the Tragar battle on each of us were gone, and I only had a few new ones on elbows and knees from my struggle with Lana. The archer was quivering with fear, however.
“I told her not to give it to her, Elder,” Panagan blurted. “She
didn’t listen to me.”
I glared at her. So much for letting me talk first. Smoothing my expression, I lowered my eyes before my Elder Sorceress. “Permission to pick up the dark brown pouch, third from the front?”
“I see not what that has to do with your empty vial, Sirana.”
“I wager you’re curious where the link is, Elder.”
D’Shea chuckled. “Permission granted.”
I stepped forward and retrieved the pouch which contained the element which Kain had died trying to extricate. I up-ended it into my palm, releasing three pieces for which I had ruined the edge on my dagger to lift from the rock. D’Shea gazed at them, slowly rubbed a finger across her lips, her thoughts in a calm center.
“They just look like rocks to me,” Rausery said frankly.
“They appear like sapphires to a Tragar,” I said. “A psionic one.”
“How do you know?”
Rausery’s focused gaze told me she had not forgotten the “Kain-wound” in my mind, but Panagan was here, and I had told her a different story.
“The potion the Elder D’Shea gave me to help sense mind mages nearby on this mission.” I explained my bald lie, and Panagan relaxed to hear me tell it. “They look like rocks to me, too, but at the time, I could see them. They’re a bright blue.”
The General looked like she might laugh for a moment as her umber red eyes landed on her peer. The Sorceress, as I knew she could, picked it up gracefully.
“There is a subtle, blue aura around them, Elder,” she acknowledged, and I couldn’t tell if that was true or not. “It’s interesting. Not certain if this stone is of any use, however.”
“Odd of you to say. I could take one to the Wizard’s Tower,” Rausery offered, never blinking as she watched D’Shea. “Let someone study it. Someone pretty good at finding the best spells to imbue stones and gems with.”
The Sorceress’s body was extremely still. Her eyes appeared black for a moment, as if a dark emotion had rushed through. I blinked, and the dark red color was back; I wondered if my eyes had just played a trick on me.
My Elder smiled then, her voice chilly. “We shall discuss it. For now, I want to hear how this stone pertains to Aurenthietti. Sirana? Summary first.”
“We used the jump port and tracked the recruit,” I began with confidence, “but accidentally pushed Aurenthietti right into them as she knew she was being followed. There were six male Tragar, two of which were psions. They had trapped her, and though she still fought them when we caught up, it was only a matter of time. They were armed and armored. She wasn’t.”
Jael tensed on the floor, shoulders hunching as she pressed her mouth closed, making no sound. The Elders noted it but waited for me to continue.
“Panagan and I took care of them, as ordered,” I said. “They are all dead. Aurenthietti would have bled out as well, but she mentioned a seventh Tragar. A female. To learn more, I gave her my preserver potion.”
Rausery glanced at the cait on the floor. “Half a chance she was lying, Sirana. That’s a known trick. A desperate one.”
“I knew she wasn’t, Elder, and we caught up to the Dwarf. Panagan saw her, too. Heard her. She went to ground, and I went in after her. I ran into another Tragar as well. Her…mate. For lack of a better word. I poisoned them both, they didn’t get away.”
Both Elders glanced at all my equipment laid out. I knew they looked for fingers, ears, organs…
“The female was a more powerful psion than the one I ran into last turn,” I said with utter truth. “I rushed to escape as soon as I knew my blade had cut her. I know better, Elders. It’s dangerous to touch a dying psion.”
“So I’ve heard,” Rausery said with an odd tone as one corner of her mouth lifted. “What happened next?”
“We caught up to the recruit using the same jump circle and gem you gave Panagan, and we caught her.”
“And took your pleasure with her?” D’Shea asked, peering with deliberation at my cum-stained gloves.
“Yes, Elder.”
She would see all the evidence eventually.
“Hm.” D’Shea looked at Rausery. “No lies.”
I held my face steady. No lies that you don’t already know about.
“You broke the rules of a trial and directly disobeyed orders,” Rausery said, “because she warned you about another enemy nearby, which Panagan would probably have found trace of anyway?”
I drew breath to speak; Jael beat me to it.
“I know the Grey Dwarves turn that stone blue somehow, Elders.” The blindfolded cait swallowed; she was very nervous but continued. “If that’s what I think it is, my House recorded blue-laced axes carried by some of them, starting about two generations ago. They won’t ever trade for a weapon that color, not even on the Fringe. They’re not that desperate, at least yet.”
Jael stopped, and the room was quiet. I clenched my teeth to make certain my jaw didn’t sag in surprise. My entire plan, which was shaky at best, was thrown off.
“You told Sirana about blue stone weapons while you were dying?” Rausery asked her with plain disbelief as she glanced at me. “And that’s why she healed you?”
“Never said that, Elder,” Jael muttered, keeping her chin down. Her eyes were still covered, and her wrists tied behind her back. “I told her there was a seventh Dwarf she missed. The females are rare, so I noticed her, even being chased.”
“Why tell her that while bleeding out?”
Jael shrugged. “The Red Sister fought like I saw before, against the thralls. She killed the fuckers, straight-in, as they were ripping me open. She gave me a weapon and instruction, both to me and to the archer, so we could beat them. And I saw them beaten, three against six, before I knew I was dead. She’s… a good leader. I… wanted her to win, even if I blacked out. There was one left, I knew it, and I didn’t want the female Tragar to get the Red Sisters from behind because I didn’t try.”
The room was silent. Maybe it was easier to say those things with her eyes covered, because I sure as fuck knew I couldn’t make my mouth work at all being able to see the expressions on my Elders’ faces.
“Good leader, eh?” Rausery finally said, amused as she looked at me, then at Panagan. “Do you agree?”
The archer shook her head with a frown. “The novice is clever and persuasive, perhaps. Not the same thing as a leader. I wouldn’t follow her.”
Jael said nothing. Not one argumentative sound. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking about, but it could have been the deal over how to use the recruit’s asshole in the cache room. At least, that’s what came to my mind when the archer said that.
I didn’t want to be a leader, anyway.
“I want separate reports,” D’Shea said then, looking at her peer. “I’ll start with Sirana, you with Panagan. Then we’ll trade.”
Rausery didn’t fight that demand; she nodded agreement. “Let me stow the recruit somewhere safe. Don’t take too long, D’Shea, I still have questions for you. We don’t want to be interrupted before we have a plan.”
“Very well. Be swift.”
A plan? What kind of plan?
Somehow, as I stood in the Cloister with most of the truth out but none of my case made to defend my decision, Jael was a “recruit” again, and Rausery and D’Shea wanted a plan.
How did this happen? What will happen now?
I closed my mouth and went with the Sorceress, hoping to learn the meaning behind even a portion of those looks the Elders had been sharing.
No doubt that comes with its own price and discomfort.
Aurenthietti was held somewhere I didn’t know, and after our separate reports with each Elder, I waited alone in a small, quiet room for either of them to return. My Elder D’Shea’s questioning had been familiar, weighing my actions against my motives and experience in a thorough and intellectually broad exploration.
“Extraordinary insight into the Tragar, Sirana,” the Sorceress said
, ultimately pleased with my telling her everything—almost to the point she might have been aroused had we been alone in her quarters. “And you sought and achieved a path I can work with in my study of Kain, and how much of his shade might remain.”
She paused, her eyes drifting to a random spot on the wall as she considered something. She added, “We won’t need Lelinahdara’s assistance as I thought. Share none of this with her, especially the stone and the female, Lana. Let me manage any curiosity she retains on the matter. With any luck, I can persuade her it was a temporary trauma which faded, no matter what else we discover.”
“Yes, Elder.”
I exhaled in relief at the same moment I detected in my Elder some small regret that a Priestess of Braqth knew about this at all. I agreed with her but, for now, it was enough to believe I wouldn’t have to give up my body and mind to an altar-sucker over this again. My Elder was convinced I could adapt and handle it—that I had helped myself and made more progress alone.
Unlike after my first mission executing my own sister to save my Matron and her unborn, the Sorceress seemed satisfied that I had exploited all opportunities possible under the circumstances. I understood better what she wanted from me.
In contrast, Elder Rausery’s debriefing had been brusque, focused mostly on my actions and trying to understand the “wound in my head,” as she phrased it. She was equally fascinated with the peek behind the fortress that I had learned in interrogating Lana; the Elder even seemed impressed that I had used the Feldeu to intimidate the Tragar and “got her talking.”
The experience had been more than that. It had reached far deeper in my mind than I could describe, the link far more intimate. I knew her. She had known me, and I understood why she had asked me to kill her.
Without the mage’s studies and experience that D’Shea had, without the decades spent watching me and gathering insights, Rausery worked only to figure out my current limits and what to expect from me short-term. Her questions went back to a comatose Reishel in the infirmary after the battle more than once.
