by A. S. Etaski
No weapons. No injuries.
It took more skill by far to track and hold his demonic yellow eyes, to stand still, than it would have to draw from my belt again. Claws dug hard into the stone floor as the half-breed stopped on a coin in front of me, breathing in my face. I would have preferred the scent of hallucinogenic tea.
“He’s got a rotting tooth, Conceiver,” I commented, challenging the Sathoet to blink first. “That, or he needs to chew on some sweet moss, or something.”
This one wasn’t her blood-son, and Wilsira stood silent somewhere behind me. I couldn’t hear her, and I hated not being able to see her yet could not turn my back to this beast. I’d already learned what happened when I turned from Kerse, and the others could hardly help but chase when Jael had escaped their clutches.
And if Qivni or a Priestess didn’t care to direct them otherwise…?
Yes, I knew what happened.
The Sathoet champed teeth at me and growled, a lecherous grin growing on his maw. His hand movement down below suggested he didn’t wear a loincloth, but I didn’t look down to confirm. I didn’t need to. His male scent wafted up briefly as he rearranged and started caressing himself. I stood in this staring contest while two more Sathoet appeared in my peripheral vision, flanking me on both sides as they crouched down, ratcheting up the tension as it became much more difficult for me to stand still.
Wilsira behind me, her pet beasts on the other three sides, and no escape. In any other circumstance, I’d have done several things quite differently by now. But, like the wizards in the Tower, I’d been warned not to injure one before a Priestess.
It will give her any excuse she wants.
But if I did not fight, if they piled on me instead, maybe this was how Wilsira wanted to soothe her pride. Watching me be debased by other Sathoet, not her precious son. Would it soil me in a demonblood’s wandering gaze, I wondered? Would that even suffice for the Mother?
The one in front of me still sniffed at me. Still clutched and rubbed himself. The tip of his prick leaked, making that distinct, male sound.
“Rather cruel to tease them, isn’t it, Conceiver?” I asked boldly.
The Priestess chuckled. “How do you know I am, Sirana?”
“This one in front seems rather close.”
“Perhaps that is his preference, Red Sister. To watch, to release all over the object of his desire.”
I smiled, watching the Sathoet in front of me, coughing delicately at his next smelly breath as he huffed and stroked. “I just cleaned my uniform for this visit, Conceiver. My Elder will likely send the costs of magical components needed to repair and clean it again to you personally, as this wasn’t in your request to the Prime.”
She didn’t appreciate my answer; she forced a bit of a laugh. “Repair? Assuming of violence and victory, Sirana?”
“More a basic assumption of contact with anything that has claws, Priestess, supported by the claw marks on my back from last time.”
Wilsira was silent again. Then, “Would you kill them if they all fucked you, Red Sister?”
“No, Conceiver. I’d probably cum again.”
She made a doubtful noise, then the Sathoet to my left reached out and caressed three claws very lightly down my thigh. Truthfully, I didn’t know if that was his initiative or the Priestess’s unseen direction. I hadn’t been told if she could instruct multiple demonbloods motion-by-motion, like so many puppets, but—
Maybe they know hand sign, too?
I did not flinch, and his first caress avoided even snagging my leather. The Sathoet shifted his path to curve long fingers around my hamstring toward my inner thigh. I was already tense, my legs spread in a stable stance I could hold for a long time, but it was agony being so vulnerable—less for his exploration and more that I feared deep gouges at Wilsira’s petty command.
D’Shea had guaranteed the Priestess would test my nerves, and there had been too many possibilities to guess. Plus, the Prime hadn’t been very clear to her on how far “inquiry” could go, and I only had two healing draughts. If it was only a matter of giving into a group fuck, I didn’t fear that, but Kerse might not even be here with his “brothers,” and Wilsira hadn’t yet exposed what she truly wanted.
The Sathoet’s control was too thin, his desire too greedy to resist pressing the pads of his fingers into the crotch of my leathers. A surge of energy entered my bloodstream, as did an influx of arousal that gave me some relief from the tension. The touch was blunt and firm but less clumsy than I would have expected. He purred low in his chest.
The rustles in the room increased so I could count three others not surrounding me, and the Sathoet to my right now grew bold enough to copy his brother, reaching to stroke my other leg and gingerly play with my buttocks. The Sathoet in front of me finally broke our lasting gaze, looking down to watch the other two grope me, his nostrils flaring, his hand fapping. With his gaze went more of the tension, and I sighed quietly.
The left-side creature withdrew his hand to sniff it, and his brother in front immediately replaced him, clutching and rubbing my mound through my pants before also pulling back to inhale my scent. He rumbled and nodded, licking his lips and pounding himself harder as the right-side Sathoet traded my ass crack to take his own time, sliding a long swipe along my cunt.
I quivered as he finished with a flourish, noticed my breath was in sync with theirs. All three touches were different and fanned the rising heat between my legs as they alternated, long and slow. My face grew hot. It occurred to me that Wilsira couldn’t see all the detail standing behind me, as my cloak obstructed her view. She certainly knew where they were touching me, though, and must know the one in front was determinedly on his way to a loaded spurt.
“Very nice,” I breathed, and all three Sathoet paused to listen to my voice. “Good buas. Are… are they often this docile, Conceiver?”
“Not often,” she murmured. She sounded almost fascinated. “They would not remain so if I were not here. They may not, even now.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I hummed, a sound too languid as I became aware how warm Shyntre’s sapphire was against my chest. Pleasantly so, like a living, turgid cock settling between my tits for a stroke.
The pulse in my head slowed down, matching the claw-tipped strokes between my thighs. Without conscious choice, I reached to touch the mane of the Sathoet on the left. He ducked as if expecting a strike but, after a glance up at me, he returned his attention to sharing my nether region with his flanking partner. In fact, his focus on pleasuring me became better as my gloves shushed through the coarse hair along his spine. The Sathoet in front churred at the sight and leaned down to nuzzle my crotch directly with his nose, snuffling urgently as I jumped.
Ohhh, my…uh!
I felt his hot breath seep through the material as he insisted on sniffing more. Meanwhile, the one on the right clicked in his throat as he started tugging at the leather ties on my right hip, clearly wishing the garment gone.
Fuck.
There was an odd lack of fear on my part, a floating, passive sensation, yet with a sense that being center meant I had control. I knew that I would let them take down my pants; I wouldn’t resist. They could smell me, and there was no denying they would find me wet. There was no way I wouldn’t climax from what I knew they wanted to do.
Because, apparently, I’d fuck anything.
My belt remained in place, sheaths and pouches nudged out of the way as claws carefully hooked the edge of my leathers, dragging down. More tugs and pulls, and the three had bared my puff of white fur to the eager, yellow eyes of the one in front, had revealed the swell of my ass to either side, and exposed the unadulterated scent of my swollen netherlips smeared with my own arousal.
~Touch me.~
With a savage squeal of glee, the front Sathoet dove right in. My pants were not even halfway down my thighs as he crammed his muzzle between them and ate voraciously like I was his final meal. I gripped his mane w
ith both hands and barked aloud, “Oh, fuck!”
The left-side brother lunged behind my cloak, turning his head so that his long, slimy tongue plunged between my ass cheeks. He managed to find the center of my pucker in a couple of swirls, and, fucking Eights, a full breath later he was inside, prying me open. Squirming and churning.
Shit, shit! More!
Two rasping, demonic tongues. One in each hole and lapping my clit.
Fuck me…
In no time at all an abrupt orgasm jumped on my back and pounded me to the ground. Hunched over with my legs apart, I gripped the rough mane in front of me to keep from dropping to my knees.
“Yes!” I wailed. “Goddesss, yesss!”
All three males erupted on me somewhere, their eager tongues whipped back to yowl and bawl in delight. Thighs, cloak, boots, they splattered all over me. I supposed I may end up sending the requisition for the cleaning spell to the Sanctuary after all.
Then, once the blood in my ears had finished its roar, I noticed the noise inside the room, outside my head.
“Enough,” Wilsira commanded. “Stop.”
I blinked. At first, I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but the three Sathoet who had just finished flinched at the voice of the Priestess and obeyed, slinking backward, soon disappearing. Even as I caught my breath, I sensed just how many more there were in the darkness, trying to come forward.
Uh-oh.
The sense of urgency increased as I pulled up my pants. They snarled and brayed, ready to attack as one.
“Creuhn-shaleh’thra!” the Conceiver bellowed, casting a deep report in the chamber which added an intense undercurrent of power to her voice.
The roil of Abyssal creatures trembled like a wall of water about to burst, hesitating with clear intent to come forward. With the Davrin Priestess there at the gate, however, her power twisting and changing the boundary even as they sought to discover it. My mental count had passed twenty.
“Obey,” Wilsira growled, low and barbarous. “Or I shall make you suffer!”
Finally, they backed up. The Sathoet melted back into the ever-changing shadows, hisses of deep resentment trailing after them. The light in the room grew brighter.
The Priestess soon stood next to me, and I couldn’t think of a single word which might make it through my open mouth.
“We shall go elsewhere,” Wilsira said, her voice belying any concerns she might have of what might happen if we didn’t.
I made not one smart remark as the Priestess of Braqth let me out of the Sathoet chamber unharmed, if not clean. Once she had the iron doors sealed to her satisfaction, Kerse’s Mother turned to study me in the black, white, and grey hallway. Her dark eyes were intense, hardly blinked as she noted the cum stains of three pent-up males dripping down my red leather and boots, and I could only expect to see her displeasure.
Indeed, I saw that irritation and disapproval on the mature mata’s face and in her body’s language; that was easy. What I hadn’t expected to see was a tremble in her hand of which she did not seem aware, and a slight confusion creasing her brow as she peered back at the closed double doors.
Wilsira smoothed a palm slowly down her belly as if she were drying it off, and she took a slow breath in, held it, and let it pass back out. She touched her lips once as if to stop herself from saying anything, though clearly, she had questions.
So did I. I had a lot of questions. First among them, what the fuck had I done?
“Were you not disgusted, Red Sister?” she asked.
Disgusted?
“By what? Pleasure?” I licked dry lips and shrugged, not even faking the afterglow. “Someone taught them how to touch a cunt. It felt good, Priestess.”
Another pause as Wilsira contemplated the novice before her. I could only wait.
“It has been significant turns,” she commented, “since I’ve witnessed a youth appreciate my gift so frankly.”
Her hand had stopped trembling, I noticed, and her tone sounded warmer, less chilly. I didn’t believe that any “gift” had been her original intent leading me into that room, but I offered a nod that I hoped appeared respectful.
Fortunately, she wasn’t peering for insults right then. The Priestess stroked her belly again over her gown, her dark cleavage swelling in its royal purple casing with another deep breath, and I caught her hand dropping a bit lower before she stopped herself, jeweled fingers twining tightly into silk as I counted to three.
“We shall meet Tarra to lead you out,” said the Priestess. “Return to your Prime, Red Sister. Tell her my curiosity is satisfied.”
One of them, maybe.
“Yes, Conceiver. I shall.”
After handing me off to the Liaison, it was disturbingly easy to imagine Wilsira rushing off like that because the one Sathoet demonstrably missing in that chamber was awaiting her in her private quarters.
CHAPTER 14
Jaunda released an enormous sigh, one arm beneath her head on the chaise inside the cache. Her eyes drowsy as all stress from our hunt evaporated.
“Mmm, so. Blue Eyes.”
“Hm?”
“Your ass good and sore like I promised?”
I snickered, turned on my side and facing her. I rubbed one glowing buttock. “Oh, yes, Lead. None better than you when I want to stay on my feet for a span.”
“Heh. You want to suck on mine some more, I’ll let ya.” She chortled, relaxing more. Eyes all the way closed now.
She was still awake, though.
“How many ya got now?” she asked, her voice like the slow grind of her hips.
I blinked. “How many, Lead?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “Sisters watchin’ your back. Besides me and Gaelan. Seems you’ve been finding enough tease an’ trouble to test it out, right?”
I counted without using my fingers. “Reishel, Jael, Elder D’Shea, Elder Rausery.”
“Not bad.” Now she opened her eyes, her irises the color of crumbling rust. “Very top and very bottom, though.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me. Something told me, if you made it, you weren’t gonna go ‘middling’ Sister.”
I smiled dryly. “Have I made it, then?”
She closed her eyes again, one arm muscle flexing. “Since the first time I fucked you. Only question now is how long you’re going to last. Making it this far only means it gets trickier from there on. The easy span was the last one.”
That certainly seemed to follow the course.
I took a risk. “How did you start, Lead?”
“Loud and irritating,” she replied, her mouth breaking into a grin.
I quirked a brow. “So, nothing’s changed.”
She knuckled my upper arm before I could even flinch.
“Ow!”
“Quit whining. Trying to sleep.”
“You are not, Lead, you haven’t kicked me out yet.”
Jaunda chuckled, opening her eyes for good this time as she rolled to face me, snatching me closer to start biting my throat, sucking my tits. I gasped, and she growled happily, slapping my ass before releasing me. I rubbed my bottom again when I could; it still stung. My heart was pounding in my ears for her next words.
“Fine,” she said, resettling herself for comfort rather than ordering me out of the cave right then. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well. I still enjoy buas,” I told her.
“Yeah, figured you would. But you earned some Sisters. Discovered hot slits are still good, right?”
“Yeah.” I grinned. “Does that mean you’ll offer yours?”
“Fuck, no.” She jabbed a knuckle at me again and I yelped. “Offer? Are you fucking jesting? If you can’t beat me in a fight, sweetmeat, you don’t get to pound my holes.”
“That what it takes?” I smiled cheekily. “Some century soon, then.”
“Some century later, maybe.”
Jaunda turned on me again, and I submitted to another rough mauling i
n her arms, chortling and enjoying my Lead’s musky scent as she started to sweat again. She was still streaked with the grime and dust from the chase, having insisted I be the only one to dunk myself after she’d caught me and dragged me here to “pay with my ass.”
I risked another question as she nursed one nipple. “Jael made it, too?”
Jaunda’s lips came off with a suck and a nod. “First time you fucked her after fighting off Thena, far as I’m concerned.”
“Any guesses about her?”
“Will never let go of a bone once her jaw is locked on it. Might only know the bones by smell, though.”
The strong Davrin got to her knees and settled between my legs, Feldeu ready to go.
I watched her. “Odd thing to say.”
“She’s an odd cait. Comes from much weirder stock than you.”
“Yes, that reminds mmEE!”
Jaunda had bottomed out with a grunt, and I gasped as she thrust a fast tempo. She definitely had a second wind.
“Y-you mentioned my G-Grand Matron?”
“You really wanna bring that up now?”
“You did! You kn-knew-w her-r?”
The Lead grimaced in concentration. “Gawdess, cait, lemme cum first!”
Jaunda lifted my legs to her shoulders, folded me almost in half so my cunt was tight around her cock. She pounded away and didn’t take long.
“Unngh! Fuck! Ahh… okay. Whew… Better.”
She flopped down onto her back so hard, the chaise threatened to break. Panting, she watched the ceiling, rubbing her short white hair into random spikes. I expected another deflection of the topic, but she didn’t need a nudge.
“A lot of connections between us all in Sivaraus, Sirana,” she said. “Goes without saying, because where else are we gonna go?”
She shrugged in answer to her own question. “Except for the Nobles trading sires, no one talks about how deep the links go, or tell their caits because it muddies the water. The way we live, the ones at your back are the only ones you should find out more about, if you can.”
