Chapter 04

Operation: Ass Weekend!

Friday I was up for early breakfast but did not see Nora. Rhetoric and Composition started out boring but then perked up, as we were assigned to write an erotic short story as realistically as we could manage, preferable something we had lived through. The TA was careful to say she would be the only one to read them and grade them, and she would hand them back without making any copies. This could prove interesting. I spent the rest of the class listening for the TA’s Suzie signals as she talked about our assignment. Kinky!

Then I heard another set of signals; new ones I had never detected before. Then another, and another! The students were all contemplating what they would write about, which seemed to be either their most memorable past sexual exploits or what they most wanted to do but had never done. There was one really stacked brunette girl who had still never sent anything for me before but I was now receiving a pretty clear picture of her wanting the TA to go down on her! I wrote my outline to hit the hot spots of the TA’s signals, and added the brunette’s fantasy plus a little twist of my own, and then moved on to Engineering 101.

Professor Lillehammer treated me with new respect, and I heard some echoes of the signals he was reflecting when he saw Lara yesterday. Certainly he had found her memorable. I wondered what the Professor’s wife, whom he had mentioned several times in class, was like. We finished up project management and moved on to more academic topics in finding local and global maxima and minima of functions. I signed up for the calculus tutoring section, as my high school had not exactly been at the forefront of advanced mathematical education.

I did not see Nora at early lunch, which I kept light and then hurried to run with Suzanne. She looked absolutely incredible, even better than I remembered! I gave her a little kiss and took a little risk. I asked her to get a couple of enema kits before Sunday and use them. She looked shocked, and then smiled, an even more understated smile than Lara’s smile, but I liked it. “I thought you were going to be my slave his Sunday!” she said, but I said maybe later, and she smiled again. We ran six miles and it felt great, like I was improving, and I pinged Suzanne during the run to try to see how far to go with her on Sunday. A wonderful frontier of exploration awaited me!

I took a very fast shower and just made it to my afternoon class, caught up with all the assignments due on Monday, and then started in on writing my erotic story. I made good progress and also used the time to revise and extend my plan for Lara, including ‘shaping’ her to see if I could make her happy without the continuously increasing kinkiness. But it was still likely I would need a female ‘assistant’ to help.

Nora was at early dinner, and told her the story of Lara’s meeting at Professor Lillehammer’s office. She was dying to hear how it turned out, but she looked at me skeptically as I began my account and her expression changed to frank disbelief as I described Lara’s ‘heel’ and leash maneuvers. I swore not only was it true but Lara loved it, and explained why my respect for Lara was growing. I then picked up some unusual signals from Nora that I had never heard before! There weren’t ‘normal’ Suzie signals. They were much weaker but ‘sweet sounding’ in a way I could not really describe. It was as if they had an elusive ‘perfect pitch’ like a great singer, but they were very weak and hard to focus on.

I asked her why she did not believe me and she said Lara just seemed too ‘pure’. Not in the virginal sense, but in terms of being honest with herself about her needs and being unafraid to pursue them. I realized that was what I liked and respected about Lara. I told Nora that, and she said she respected that too, if what I was telling her was true.

I thought a minute and said “There is an opportunity for you to see for yourself, Nora!”

She stopped talking. Little pings of those perfect signals slipped back to my senses again, and then stopped, as if they were strangled! “What are you talking about? I don’t want to be a voyeur!”

I smiled what I hoped was a challenging smile. “Not just as a watcher, but also as a participant! As I ramp up my subs’ submission and humiliation parameters, I need a female to work with.”

“What you mean work with, Project Management Boy?” Her grey eyes were flashing like lightning!

“I mean that when I move toward the upper end of the humiliation scale, it won’t be enough to have her wonder if someone might be watching through the windows. She will have to know for certain that there is a living breathing person watching! And the next step will be making her submit by getting on her knees and pleasing another female.”

“I thought you were trying to shape her to be more ‘normal’, weren’t you? And pray tell what will you be doing while she pleases the female?”

“I am planning for all possibilities, and it’s probably not realistic to keep away from that. And, if I am doing my best for her I will be whipping her buttocks and telling her she is not pleasing you well enough and giving her instruction of how to try harder and do better.”

Nora had an expression on her face I had not seen before, and those little funny bell tone like Suzie signals were tinkling then disappearing like effervescent little bubbles popping. “You are a bloody bounder, aren’t you, Mr. Roberts?” she said with a slight British accent I had not heard before.

“No.” I smiled at her directly. “I am a master that is trying to be dedicated to pleasing my sub, and I think you like that a lot more than you are willing to admit or let show. Like your British accent and speech patterns that just came out for the first time since we met.”

She looked for just an instant like a little girl who just let a secret slip! Her eyes got big and she actually cupped her hand and raised it towards her mouth before she caught herself and regained her composure. “You seem to like bounders!” I said. She looked at me with a confused and wild expression, then jumped up and said he had to get to class!

I went to office hours to thank the TA again, and he wanted to know how I managed to stay in the class. “Lillehammer won’t talk, which is unreal because you usually can’t get him to shut up! What the hell happened?” I explained that the professor had made an incorrect assumption, falling victim to something he had repeatedly warned us about. The TA looked confused. “You mean you really do have a….” he stopped. “Because the only way I can see that Lillehammer would back off was if….” He stopped again. “Holy Shit!” I smiled.

Then I had a question of my own. “Tell me about Lillehammer’s wife.”

He smiled. “The professor got really lucky. She is a psychologist, brilliant, and much better looking than he deserves. He is uptight and inhibited, she is open and uninhibited. I can’t begin to imagine what their sex life is like, not that I want to!”

When I got to Lara’s apartment she had scented candles going, and an incredible new outfit she must have found online. It was red leather, so thin it almost looked like latex, in the form of a tight leotard with little zippered flaps that were open to let her nipples peek out, and a big opening that exposed her ass and pussy then turned into little ‘leggings’ that wrapped and accentuated her legs and highlighted the black high heels she wore. She had her blonde hair up in one of those Texas ‘big hair’ things and she looked eight feet tall! I stood back to look at her and just take it in and she got one of those wonderful little smiles that grew wider and wider as she saw that I was unable to look away! Finally she turned away and walked with an exaggerated sway toward the living room, and I realized two things: she had already generously lubricated her ass with fine coconut oil which was gleaming in the track lights and smelled incredible, and she was already thinking she could get over on me again. Action was required!

I grabbed her and told her to get me some restraints and the whip, and move the kitchen table next to the windows again! I heard her draw a big breath in, and then saw her little smile get tighter, but it was still there! I listened carefully for her signals, and she was sending that she was looking forward to hard and cruel, so that’s what she was going to get!

I had her get up onto the table and face her ass toward the windows. I tied her wrists together and lashed them to the table legs in the front. It was still light outside so I was not sure how many people could see her, but with the help of one of Kevin’s dorm room decorations, I was going to up the ante on her. I took out the battery powered strobe light and put it up on the table and turned it on. The super bright flashes were reflected back onto the windows, and anybody looking anywhere near the windows could not help but notice it. Lara realized that too, and drew in a sobbing breath, looking around frantically, as if she could see through the other building’s windows and tell if people could see her. I let the strobe run for a few minutes, and then turned it off. There had to be some people watching now, and Lara was quivering, just like I wanted to see her.

I caressed her ass with my hand, measuring the distance and adjusting my stance, so she knew exactly what was coming. Her respiration rate was skyrocketing! She was so hot! I yelled at her. “Did you keep to a liquid diet as I directed?”

“Yes, Master!”

“Did you use the enema kits like I directed?”

“Yes, master!”

“Did you lubricate your ass with coconut oil?”

“Yes, Master!”

“Did I direct you to use any lubrication?”

She drew in a huge breath! “No, Master.”

I began to whip her ass and narrated my strokes, one word per strike. “I…..did….not….say….to….use….lubrication!” I paused and let her breathe for a moment, then resumed my strikes. “I…..did….not….say….to….use….lubrication! I…..did….not….say….to….use….lubrication!”

She was now crying and racked with sobs. I resumed my narrated striking. “I….am….not…. going….to….use…lube!” She screamed, she shuddered, she shook, and I laughed!

My research told me that anticipation, surprise, and contrast were the key to pleasing her. I had to make her think she was going to get it rough, then give it to her soft, and vice versa. I had to alternate between cold and hot, soft and hard, and pain and pleasure until she had no idea what was coming and just learned to accept whatever I gave her!

I loudly unzipped my pants and dropped them to the floor, then used my fingers and thumbs and to roughly spread her ass checks as wide as I could, pushing my thumbs into her so hard that they made big red marks. She drew a huge breath and held it. I began to gently kiss and lick her ass, explaining between licks. “I have to examine your ass to make sure it is properly prepared and ready!” I sucked up as much of the oil from her buttocks as I could, taking my time and throwing in an occasional hard bite. “I have to get rid of this unauthorized lube!”

I began to gently lick her anus, just barely penetrating it with my tongue. She shook and shuddered with each touch. “Remember, you may not come until I give you permission! I have to get all of this lube out of your ass, because you deserve to get it rough and dry, you little slut!” I thrust my tongue in as far as I could, and then sucked hard as I pulled it out. She squealed. I sealed my lips to her little rosebud, and sucked even harder. She whimpered.

I stood up. “Now we got rid of the lube, but I want that ass to look really red when I ram all the way into it. I began to alternate spanking each butt check, hard, commenting as I went. “Left, right, getting a little redder, slut! Right, right, left, a little redder! Left, left, right, red, red, red!” She was breathing like she was running a race! “Now that’s looking good! This slut ass is red and ready to get it hard and stiff and deep and painful! Are you ready slut?”

“Y..y…yes, master!” She sniffed and sobbed like a young girl getting a spanking. Her Suzie signal was screaming and bouncing all around the room like I had never heard it before! I lifted her ass a little by grabbing it hard with my hands, and then settled her back down on the table top. It was just getting fully dark outside. I turned on the floor lamp nearby and focused it on her red ass. “Now I can see that red slut ass so I can fuck it just right! Of course everyone looking through the windows can see it get fucked too!” She sobbed and quivered. Her Suzie signal was a living thing, almost blotting out all my other senses. I positioned myself against the table again, and bumped it with my thighs so it shook. She gasped. I spread her ass cheeks apart again with my hands. She quaked. I touched my dick against her anus and pushed gently. She shivered and drew in another huge breath and then held it. “It’s going to be so tight, you little slut! You can do your best to push me out, but nothing can stop me from taking that ass!”

I pushed in a little further, and dared her to try to push me out. I knew that would open her up for full penetration. There was still some of the coconut lube left and her pussy had been dripping juice the whole time, and some of it was inevitably leaking onto my dick. I wasn’t really worried about hurting her, but I wanted to maximize her thrill from that first big thrust.

I felt her bear down and a slight slackening of her sphincter, and I slammed myself into her as far as I could! She screamed again and her Suzie signal was so strong it almost paralyzed me. Not that I really wanted to move! I was all the way in her hot tight ass and it was wonderful! I pulled out about half an inch and then tried to go back even farther into her. I held still and then felt her open up just a little more. I pulled back about an inch and then surged forward again. She relaxed a little more. It was a fun game and I was winning. Soon I could draw almost all the way out and then slowly move all the way in. Her Suzie signal was wailing and throbbing in time to my thrusts!

“OK slut! Now it’s time for some serious ass-fucking!” I began slamming into her full depth and going faster and faster. Her Suzie signal wailed and throbbed and strummed! I began to slap her ass with each thrust, and I loved the red hand print that it left each time. Lara gasped and grunted and panted! I grabbed her hair with my other hand and pulled her head back and made her look at me. God she was beautiful! She was so hot it hurt. “Remember not to come until you have permission!” I shouted. I was so hard and so turned on my dick felt hard as glass and I didn’t even feel like coming. The noises she was making were music to my ears, and I was feeling her Suzie signal right down inside my spine. I never wanted it to stop. But I knew what my plan said I had to do for her.

“OK slut! Do you like getting your dirty slut ass fucked all the way?”

“Yes, master!”

“Yes, Master what?”

“Yes, Master please fuck my ass! I mean fuck your ass! Fuck it hard!

“When I am ready to come, I am going to take my dick out of your dirty ass and come in your dirty mouth! Are you ready for that slut?”

Her Suzie said she was! In fact, she loved the idea. I concentrated on getting myself off, using her ass like she was a rag doll. Soon I was ready. I pulled out of her ass with a wet plop and walked around in front of her, spreading her bound arms and then using one hand to grab her hair and lift up her head. I just plain fucked her mouth for my last few strokes, and when I was ready to come, I grabbed her head with both hands and shoved my cock as far down her throat as I could. She sucked and swallowed as hard and fast as she could. That’s my girl!

“Keep sucking slut! Keep me hard!” She was frantic.

I untied her hands, pulled out of her mouth and got behind her, and spread her ass cheeks again. “Now you may come as much as you can handle, slut!” I began to thrust my tongue in her ass, then her pussy, then to suck on her clit. She came so hard she stopped breathing, and then gasped to get her breath. I licked her all the way from one hole to the other, and then sucked her clit and she came again. And again! She was no longer inhaling between orgasms so I stopped to let her catch her breath. Now it was shaping time!

I picked her up from behind and carried her over to the couch. I lay back on my right side and put her on her right side on the couch in front of me. I was still hard as a rock! I spread her legs and entered her now almost sloppy ass, reaching my left arm under her left knee and holding her leg us so I could penetrate her fully. I reached around with my right arm and put her neck in the crook of my right elbow and choked her neck and pulled her into me. I listened to her Suzie signal and tried to plug myself into her rhythm. I adjusted my strokes into her and rubbed her clit gently with my left hand and choked her a little more with my right elbow. Suddenly I found the rhythm! Her Suzie signal began to spike and spark! I just concentrated on her and soon she was coming. I just kept up the gentle rhythm and she came again. It was working! I got her all fired up with lots of kink and some pain, but now she was coming like a little bunny rabbit with just good old fashioned ass fucking! I wanted her to learn that she could have great orgasms with me either way!

I choked her a little more until I could feel her pulse strongly against my arm. Her Suzie got even more excited from the slight oxygen deprivation. I kissed her neck, licked her ear, and then bit her neck gently. I kept thrusting and she came again. I choked her right to the point of unconsciousness and she came again! I used my arm to point her leg like a ballet dancer and spread her legs even farther apart, trying to get even more penetration. I pressed my lips to her ear. “I am going to come in your ass, Lara (not ‘slut’) and I want you to come when you feel me shooting in you.”

Her Suzie signal took on a new tone, less urgent but more contented. I began stroking as fast as I could, and it felt like her signal was in thunderously loud stereo with my head right in the center of the image. Suddenly I was coming in her and she was coming with me! We shook together like we had the same fever! I stopped choking her neck and she turned her face toward me and kissed me. I felt my second and third and fourth squirts disappearing into her ass! It was fantastic! She sobbed and burst into tears again and I kissed them and did my best to lick them up and swallow them. We were both breathing like racehorses, trying to get big breaths in between kisses.

She snuggled against me and I heard the loudest contentment signal I had ever experienced. She burrowed into me and reached back and put an arm around me and we lay still until our heart rates neared normal. It felt so good! But then I felt her crafty side come up and sing its little ditty, thinking it could take advantage of this tenderness. I shoved her off the couch and onto the floor in a heap!

“Go draw my bath, and make it the perfect temperature!” She paused for a second on all fours, and I could see that wonderful little smile, the downcast eyes, and then I felt another Suzie signal wave of contentment. I had her wash and dry me, and give me a massage, and then I lay on my back on her bed. “Come here, suck my cock and get me hard again!” She worked on me frantically, and with great success. “Now climb aboard! Lower your pussy onto my cock! Soon I was completely inside her. “You do the work. Make me come, and when I come you may come again.”

She straddled me, closed her eyes, and concentrated on her work. Her nipples were big pink bullets, and fine sheen of sweat shone on her perfect shoulders. Her abdominal muscles moved and slithered, and her neck corded and her hair swayed as she rocked her head back and forth like a dancer. It was as if she was listening to my signal, because she concentrated on my cock and what made it harder and got me closer to coming. I was watching her moves and enjoying the show. Her face showed intense concentration, and I felt her pussy gripping me. Soon I found myself involuntarily gasping, and she smiled behind closed eyes as she recognized she had me just beyond the point of no return. I felt my first spurt launch up into her. She opened her eyes and smiled that shy little smile that burned right into my soul. She held my gaze for just an instant then threw her head back and came like a bucking bronco! She gripped my cock with her pussy and rotated her hips like she was rolling a hula hoop., and it felt like I was coming in a hot, wet animal, and I was!

I shook and spurted, completely involuntarily until I was completely spent. Lara leaned down and hugged me, and I hugged her back. Then she lay down next to me and gently kissed my nipples, which made my cock jump again! She giggled. We giggled.

I must have fallen asleep, and I awoke to the smell of steaks cooking in a pan on her vented cook top. She had made a little salad and some asparagus, and the steaks were medium rare and perfect. We ate at the kitchen table and for the first time discussed Professor Lillehammer and the scene in his office. I told her about wondering what the Professor’s wife would be like, and we laughed. Lara said she imagined either a wicked German dominatrix with a whip who played the professor like a fiddle or a little meek church lady who left his fantasies completely unfulfilled.

She told me about her family. Her father was an unusual combination of uptight actuary and high flying entrepreneur who had started ten different insurance companies. Five of them went broke, but five others were huge financial successes and he was approaching billionaire status. He was the classic obsessive compulsive type, always watching her and commenting on her every move as she grew up. He was so concerned with his privacy that he had two accountants and two PR firms whose only job was to keep him out of the spotlight by hiding assets to stay out of the Forbes 400 listing and articles each year. Her mother died of cancer when Lara was ten, and her father had never really been happy since then. She was an only child.

As I looked out the window, I saw a computer monitor pushed up against a window in a building about 3 blocks away. I squinted and just made out big white letters on the black screen “MORE RED LEATHER!” I asked Lara if she had a pair of binoculars, and she had some in her kitchen closet next to her stadium blanket. I pointed out the window to her and she focused in on it and then blushed bright red, but her Suzie said ‘high excitement’. She shivered. “Master?” she said.

“Yes.” I said.

Her eyes were downcast, her face was red, and she was wearing that irresistible little smile. “Would you please take me in my, I mean, your ass again?”

“On the table with the lights on?”

“Yes, master!” That’s my girl! I was very inspired by her spirit, and her Suzie signal spurred me on!

I got back to the dorm after midnight, and gave my sore cock a little extra wash in the shower. I was supposed to meet Janet at 1000 and then we would walk over to the tailgating area near the stadium. I set my alarm for 0930. I hope they had good food at the brunch, because right now I needed sleep a lot more than breakfast.

It seemed like the alarm went off three minutes later. It was already Saturday! I combed my hair down from the pillow’s ravages, dressed, and went downstairs. Janet was resplendent in her ‘hot girl, team colors’ outfit of deeply scooping and very tight white cotton halter top, tight jeans, team colors visor, and a team colors windbreaker tied around her waist in case it got cooler. Her red hair was set off by the white top, as were her freckles, as were her nipples, already perky early in the morning. She made my cock feel better already!

“You look fantastic! Football weather really suits you!” She smiled sweetly. We walked over to the tailgating area near the stadium. I took advantage of the opportunity to ping her Suzie a bit to figure out how far to take things tonight, and she was progressing well along the kinkiness axis! She wouldn’t need it really rough the way that Lara did, but she did not want tonight’s anal action to be tentative either! I decided on an in depth treatment. Don’t worry, be happy! I was just going to relax and enjoy the game, then later tonight go for what I liked, and let her waning Suzie signal warn me if I went too far. But the day would prove to be full of surprises, as I would soon find out.

The big UDP logo cook tents and giant high tech BBQ pits on trailers were easy to find. Most frats just served a breakfast at their house on a home game Saturday, but UDP held to a higher standard. They wanted to be close to the game and convenient for their alums, and wanted their BBQ to be one of the most memorable things about their trip to the game. Ribs, chicken, brisket and turkey had been smoking on the mobile pit for more than a day, complete with wireless remote meat thermometers and HD TV displays of the meat cooking, and pots of pinto beans, green beans, and some other side dishes. It would start being served at 1030, and additional supplies would come off in 30 minute intervals up until game time. Other monitors showed ‘College Game Day’ and the other TV networks forecasts of the game results.

I asked Janet if she wanted to sit down and have me bring her a plate, and she laughed and said “No, silly boy, I have been on a liquid diet since yesterday morning! Just bring me a margarita. Do they have any oysters for you?” She giggled again.

I smiled at her as we merged into the food line with some other folks. “That just proves my theory! Always date the smart girls.”

“What? Is that some kind of altruistic thing?” she asked.

“Not at all! Smart girls are always better in bed!”

“I thought men thought that dumb blondes were the hottest sex partners?”

“Only dumb guys think that. But smart guys know that the higher the IQ, the better she is in bed!”

Janet smiled. “I know that’s true, but exactly how does your theory reach that conclusion?”

“Well, smart girls have more imagination and are more creative, so they give you more surprises and fun. And the really smart girls are also a little neurotic, which means they are also a little kinky, which always leads to some interesting things!”

I poked her in the ribs gently, but before she could reply, a strong alto female voice spoke from behind us in the line. “This seems to be an uncommonly wise young man, my dear. You are fortunate to have him!”

Janet smiled and bowed gracefully. “Yes, ma’am! I am training him to be a good one!”

The women both laughed at my pained expression, and she introduced herself. “My name is Dorothy, Dorothy Lillehammer.” She was tall, with dark brown hair and light brown eyes that twinkled from a very pretty face. She was dressed in a mirror image of Janet’s outfit: tight white pants, and a very tight orange halter top. Her breasts were larger than Janet’s, and so were her nipples. Fall was such a wonderful time of year! It was warm enough for halter tops, but cool enough to make them interesting! And the professor had really done well for himself!

We introduced ourselves, and Dorothy looked at me sharply and with new interest. “Mr. Roberts! I think my husband has mentioned one of your projects in his class!”

I actually blushed, despite steeling myself against it. “Yes Ma’am.” She looked at Janet and must have realized that she was not a six foot blonde. She actually winked at me. “Well it’s very nice to meet you. I hope you two enjoy the game!” I had almost finished making up my plate, and Janet walked over to the line at the Margarita machine to get us a couple.

Dorothy leaned toward me while filling her own plate and whispered, “Your other girlfriend made quite an impression on my husband! Is she really a classic submissive?”

I smiled and thought in for a penny, in for a pound. “Actually she tried to dominate your husband. I think that was what he was responding to.”

Dorothy looked thoughtful. “Really? Hummmm…. Well, he was sure fired up Thursday night!” I wondered if the professor was in for something a little different tonight. As Dorothy walked away with an exaggerated sway of her hips, I thought I detected some ‘leaking’ Suzie signals of sexual curiosity and excitement. It seemed to me that professor had really married well!

I saw my junior high buddy Ralph, a recent ESU UDP pledge, sitting at a table and he motioned us over. We sat with him and he introduced us around. The UDP guys were very interesting, and the conversation ebbed and flowed in fascinating ways. The BBQ was absolutely perfect, and the ribs were the best I ever had, and I thought I was a connoisseur! I went back for some more food and got Janet another Margarita, and before we knew it, it was time to head over to the stadium. As we walked over, Ralph invited me to come to a mixer at their house next Wednesday.

I told him my rule about school work on weeknights, and he laughed. “Given the curriculum at the old high school, I assume you are signed up for calculus tutoring?”

“Yes, and I am going to need every minute of it!” I said tiredly.

“Come to the mixer and I will hook you up with a guy who can teach you more in 30 minutes than 30 hours at the tutoring sessions! Plus we have all the calculus exams used for the last 15 years on file!” he smiled confidently.

“OK, I am going to hold you to that offer!”

The stands were hopping as we made our way to our seats in the student section. This was the last non-conference game against one of the Louisiana ‘directional schools” and it was just one level up from a scrimmage. The visiting team got a big paycheck to let ESU use them as a final ‘tune up’ for conference play. Things went as expected. ESU was up 21-0 at the end of the first quarter and 42-0 at the half. The second half was mostly the 2nd and 3rd team guys jockeying for positions on the depth chart, and ESU won 66-14. Many folks headed for the exits in the 3rd quarter, but we stayed to the very end. Janet was still celebrating loudly each time ESU scored.

“Why don’t you want to leave early?” she asked.

I smiled. “As long as you are jumping up and down in that top, I am going to watch!”

She seemed very pleased, and her Suzie liked it too! “Well, since my roommate Melanie went home for the weekend, maybe we should go to the room so you can see some cheers without the top?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Can do. Copy that! HUA! Roger, Wilco!” I smiled. We held hands and started walking back to the dorm. About halfway there, Janet stopped and said we should sit down on a bench because “we needed to talk”. That is never good! I sat apprehensively and looked at her.

“I want to talk to you about Melanie.”

I immediately got defensive. “I can’t help if she hates me!”

She laughed. “She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t hate all men. She hates her shithead ex-stepfather!”

I still felt trapped. “I thought you and Lou were helping her!”

She paused. “We are. We have talked to her and about her at length, and we have come up with a plan that we think will work.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

She snorted. “You are our plan!”

“What! What can I do?” Melanie wouldn’t even stay in the same room with me.

“Lou and I both agree you are a very horny guy, but there is nothing mean about you at all. You would never hurt Melanie if you could possibly avoid it, and you wouldn’t ever make her feel bad about herself. We want Melanie to spend the night with you. We want you to take her virginity like you did mine!” That was NOT was I was expecting. “You seemed to know exactly when to slow down and when to move forward with me! It was wonderful! I want it to be that way for Melanie, too.”

“I thought Melanie was gay!” Janet looked at me funny.

“She is actually bisexual in her orientation, but she is also a virgin. She had not been with a man or a woman. She says she is more attracted to guys than girls, but her stepfather really scared her badly. She actually trusts you more than any other male, because Lou and I both trust you.”

“So she is willing to do this?” I was floored.

“Not yet. We wanted to get you on board before we talked to her about it! Will you do it?”

I thought about it. I was afraid there was a good chance Melanie would run screaming from the room and be scarred even worse than she was. “Maybe since Melanie is bi, we should make it a threesome with a woman?”

She sighed. “We talked about that. We don’t want her evil stepfather to drive her to want to be with women only. We want her to have a good one-on-one experience with a guy, with you.”

“Let me think about it. I just don’t want to be accused of rape if it goes wrong.”

“We thought about that too. Melanie is of age. We will make her sign a consent form to protect you.”

“OK, I’ll do my best for her if she wants me to.” I guess I could be better tuned in to her than anybody else I knew, and take it easy and even call things off if she was really freaking out on me. “When do you want to do this? Where?”

“We have some ideas about that. We will plan some more after we talk to Melanie about it. And by the way, save all your ass lust for little ole’ me! Melanie is not ready for that yet!”

I laughed. “What about Lou? I know she likes my roommate. What else did you talk about?”

Janet actually blushed, and her Suzie signal pulsed on some unfamiliar frequencies! She was hiding something, but maybe I could get to it later. Right now I knew exactly what I wanted to get to!

As we finished our walk back to the dorm, I was reminded of what my mother would often talk about as we left high school football games. Although she taught financial and intermediate accounting to junior college students, she was a frustrated philosopher, and one of her favorite theories was that football was the modern, ritualistic substitute for lots of old tribal activities, like war, and raiding another village to steal women! I thought about the mass of people streaming out of the stadium, and the pumped up ESU faithful yelling and strutting away from the stadium. I realize I was a little pumped up too, but not about football!

When we got back to the dorm, we both made use of the bathroom to clean up, and then Janet had me sit on the bed and said she was going to play cheerleader for a while, and then she would be the center and I could play the quarterback reaching for the snatch, or, ah, snap. Smart girls are definitely more fun, and I especially I like the way this woman thinks! She said she needed a few more minutes, and then disappeared back into the bathroom for about 30!

When she returned she looked a bit unhappy, but I sat back to watch and Janet portrayed the ritualistic deflowering of the jungle virgin that has been played out over the ages and still is performed in topless bars and strip clubs every night in America. Janet was much better looking than the average stripper and much closer and smelled better! She didn’t have that much on in the first place, but she made quite a wonderful show of taking it off.

She wriggled out of those fabulous tight jeans and I was hit with a wonderful odiferous wave of perfume, perspiration, and a hint of pussy smell! Wow! She had on a pair of white cotton panties so worn and so tight that she must have had them since she was ten! They were white cotton, but so thin that her bountiful coppery red pubic hair showed through almost perfectly, as did the outline of her perfect pink and now almost red, pussy lips. I had a sudden vision of her wearing just the little visor, and life was good. She turned around and unhooked the halter in the back, but kept it supported with her hands in the front. She was dancing to the punk band that the local alternative rock FM station had on as an alternative to locker room interviews with ESU football players. The music had a driving beat but virtually no melody. Her Suzie signal was keeping time to the driving beat, and it was driving me right up the wall! She let the halter top drop to the floor, and another layer of Suzie signal hit me. She really liked being a stripper! Her nipples were like burning orange red coals on her freckled breasts and I enjoyed another wonderful wave of infrared heat, perfume, and her natural smell as it hit me right in the face!

She made eye contact with me and then executed a 180 degree turn and bent over at the waist, practically slapping me in the face with her ass, barely concealed as it was by those almost threadbare panties! I should have known they would say “Juicy” in red script letters right across the butt. So true! She bent over until she renewed eye contact with me by looking through her legs, and smiled one of those magic smiles that hypnotized me, even upside down. Sometimes you like a woman to be a little cruel, and she was. She dropped the top of those panties about and inch and then did a major league stripper move, alternatively straightening one leg and then the other and making her buns jump and bob in perfect syncopation! Then another inch, then another! Suddenly her ass and pussy was revealed as a blazing red gash of heat and pheromones and sticky sweet smells and just as suddenly I was merely a macaque monkey with a lizard’s brain.

She put her legs close together and skinned those little panties down and stepped out of them. Then she bent all the way down and grabbed her ankles like they teach stretching in dance class, and as she bent so far over that her breasts almost touched her feet, her buttocks parted and I swear I heard angels singing as her little red rosebud and perfect pink pussy were again revealed! Her Suzie signal swelled and filled the room, filled my mind, became my world. I know I was supposed to play quarterback and slip my hands between her legs, but monkeys don’t play quarterback, they rut! I did something that I had never seen any quarterback do. I jumped off the bed and fell to my knees and simply worshipped her perfect ass, putting my arms up between her legs and my hands on top of her thighs, pulling her center to me and running my lips and tongue back and forth like her backside was the perfect ear of corn! Tasty!

She must have approved of my improvisation, because she spread her legs even farther apart and put her right leg up about 12 inches on the horizontal braces of the chair that sat in front of her study desk. I moved directly under her and used my tongue to test and taste every inch of her delightful pink caverns, more excited than the most avid spelunker! She reached back and grabbed my ears and pulled me into her even stronger! Her liquid diet plan had been effective, because I got my tongue all the way up her ass and tasted only sweet wet perfect flesh all the way! I replaced my tongue in her ass with a finger and then tongued her pussy until I was rewarded with some sloppy drips as she came for the first time. Her breathing sounded like Darth Vader’s, and I stood up and slammed my cock into her pussy, which was so wet and sticky that I effortlessly plumbed her depths on the first stroke. She came again almost instantly.

I was beyond thought, and pulled out of her and positioned my cock next to her little rosebud. I was amazed and how hot it looked to see my big (really average) cock next that tight (but wet with my saliva) little rosebud. She growled like a hoarse cat, and her Suzie signal growled like a lioness! I pushed in just a little and she drew in and held her breath. She pushed back against me, and Dr Valsalva, that ever helpful Italian I learned about in my research, helped her relax a little. I plunged in further and she shrieked, and then held her breath again. She relaxed a little more and I moved forward a little more. Her Suzie signal had been on hold, but now it played like a raspy trumpet with the mute taken off. She spoke for the first time, and it made quite an impression on me when she cried “Fuck me you fucking son of a bitch!” I think it was safe to say she was into it, and I lost all inhibition and plunged into her without reservation. She leaned over against the bed with her hands on the bed and her legs on the floor. I grabbed me a heapin’ helpin’ of buttock and fucked her ass deeply with slow strokes. I got even harder and bigger inside her and it felt like she was filled with hot butter inside. My monkey was in his element!

I had read somewhere that most women can’t come from direct anal stimulation, but Janet wasn’t most women! She came on about my tenth full stroke, and again at about number 25. I was in some kind of Zen fuck state, hard as a rock and not even close to coming. I moved her up onto all fours on the bed, put one knee on the bed and left one on the floor, and fucked her ass some more! It was a different angle and a different motion, and soon she came again. Then I lay back on the bed and positioned Janet in front of me, pulled up one leg, and entered her ass again. I hooked her leg with my elbow and spread her legs even farther, accessing a new angle and getting even better penetration, with less strain on my legs and back. I was beginning to think of this as my long term sustainable ass fucking position. I devoted myself to sensing her Suzie signal, put one had under and around her to touch her clit, and snaked my head around under her arm so I could bite the topside nipple nearest me, and then just tuned for maximum Suzie smoke! She was responding, and her Suzie was spiking. She came again, and then she pinched her own nipple, the one opposite the one I had in my mouth, and reached around with her other hand and grabbed my butt cheek. This wasn’t in the Kama Sutra I had seen, but it was working for us.

©2013 angelface195 all rights reserved

If you need a list of the cast of Cassidy’s please refer to chapters 1 — 36.

Lacy Alexis — Sister to Valentina

Ellen McGraw — Pregnant stalker and supermodel

The Cassidy Kennedy’s

Derrick Cassidy Kennedy — Suitor to Lacy Alexis

Amber Cassidy Kennedy — Mother to Derrick

Senator Alan Cassidy Kennedy — Father to Derrick

Jackson Cassidy Kennedy — Brother to Derrick married to Pedro

Pedro Cassidy Kennedy — Husband to Jackson, changed his name to Cassidy Kennedy after their marriage

Janice Cassidy Kennedy McGarrett — Sister to Derrick

Bronson McGarrett — Husband to Janice


Margaret Jones — Assistant to Hayley

Brian West — Assistant to Jake

Marvina — New Housekeeper to Hayley and Jake


Derrick carried Lacy up to her room and dressed her in a black negligee and tucked her into bed. It was five thirty in the morning.

He went into his own room. On the way he heard his mother arguing with his father, “You loved it when she called you daddy, you sick fuck!”

“You can’t wait to fuck your son, you bitch!” Alan screamed.

“Go to bed, you just wait I’ll take care of you.” Amber yelled back.

“You won’t do anything, not until you’ve had your son’s dick in your cunt.”

“Well at least he has a big cock. It must have come from my side of the family because that peanut size dick of yours can’t do the job.” Amber smirked.

Alan screamed back, “Well I did the job with Lacy, she loved it.”

Derrick walked past his parent’s bedroom. He couldn’t’ stand to hear anymore. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Derrick lay in bed thinking for quite some time. He was beginning to realize that it wasn’t just the formula but real feelings and real thoughts that had gone unsaid were coming out to reveal the truth. The truth for him was that he loved Lacy, but he also loved his mother more than he wanted to admit.

As he drifted off to sleep, Derrick wondered what tomorrow would bring and what it would feel like to put his cock into the pussy that bore him.


Jake and Hayley spent some time with Mary and Stephen. They had a double date; dinner, theater and drinks. It seemed to Jake they had grown much closer and Jake was very concerned. “Hayley you know I like Stephen but I want to make sure they aren’t rushing into anything.” Jake said as he lay in bed with Hayley.

Hayley lay in his chest, “Sir you’re just worried about the ritual and fucking your sister.”

Jake nodded admitting the truth, “I would rather it be me than Dent. I don’t want that pig touching her.”

“You know he has the right to fuck her, but it would be easier after you’ve done it. The formula will protect Mary. Please honey, those two are obviously in love and if you push too hard, it will happen sooner.” Hayley said as she began to kiss his chest.

Jake, who was naked in bed, opened his legs and grabbing Hayley by her ponytail pushed her down to his dick, “Suck me and stop being so damn smart.”

Hayley smiled, “Yes Sir.” She said as she went down on her husband capturing his dick with her mouth.


Amber got up the next morning and went into Derrick’s bedroom. Derrick was fast asleep. Silently she moved the covers from his body. His muscular back and buttocks were in her line of vision. All Amber could think of was how much she wanted to wrap her legs around his back. She couldn’t touch him until six tonight, but more than anything she wanted him to understand that he would always belong to her.

Amber covered her son and bent down to kiss his cheek. Derrick didn’t even stir. She closed the door and smiled. Lacy would learn who was boss.

Jackson wanted to suck Blake’s cock again. He wanted to suck it hard and take it deep in his mouth. Just the thought of having Blake’s dick in his mouth caused him to salivate.

Pedro was in a piss poor mood. He slept on the sofa in the outer room. He didn’t want to be around Jackson. His thoughts were on the pussy he had eaten and how much he had enjoyed it.

He was also annoyed with Jackson who couldn’t contain himself with telling Pedro how very much he had enjoyed the fucking Blake had given him.

Jackson got out of bed. He went into the outer room and knelt down, “I know I’ve been an ass and I’ll probably be an ass later today, but I love you and you know that. Please let’s get out of here and enjoy our time together until we come back into the lion’s den.”

Pedro looked up at Jackson and realized just how much he loved him. Pedro pulled Jackson towards him and kissed his lips. “I think that’s a good idea. Let’s drive up the coast and have brunch. I want to get out of this mad house.”


Bronson was fucking his wife. He was fucking her ass and spanking her hard. “I bet you enjoyed the gay boy eating that cunt of yours. I’m sure you also enjoyed sucking your old man’s cock.”

Janice moaned, “I certainly did. I plan to fuck Derrick today after he’s through with my mother.”

“You little tramp. I order you not to cum.” Bronson said as he fucked deeper inside her.

Janice laughed, “Fuck you! Today I’m going to do as I damn well please. Tomorrow you can punish me, but I’m sure you can’t wait to get your cock into my brother’s fiancée.”

Bronson pinched Janice’s ass making her wince. “You are just like your mother, one horny bitch.” He said as he came deep inside her bowels.


Alan peaked in on Lacy; to him she looked like sleeping beauty. She was stunning. He didn’t want to interrupt her but he went in and closed the door. Gently he stroked her face. He was about to take off the covers when the door opened, Blake was standing there, his eyebrow raised. “I think we need to let her sleep. She’s had a long night.”

Sheepishly Alan nodded and they both left the room. “I was just checking to make sure she was all right.”

“I bet you were. She needs all her strength for tonight when she has to deal with your wife, so let her rest and rejuvenate herself.” Blake got close to Alan; too close and said, “If I see you near her before six, I will fuck your ass right here in the hallway, comprender?

Alan blushed at the thought, thinking he’d probably enjoy that. Blake stared at him and said, “Let’s go have some breakfast, six will come soon enough.”


After brunch, Blake went out to the garden to phone his wife. He wanted to make sure he didn’t call her too early. “Hello baby.”

“Hello Sir, how is your trip? Are the Cassidy-Kennedy’s behaving?” Valentina asked as she drank her tea.

“The Ritual is bringing out all kinds of behavior in these folks. There’s a lot of jealousy, but I think they’ll be fine. I’m very proud of Lacy; she seems to be holding her own. Tonight will tell how she and Amber get along. I think it’s going to be a knockdown, drag out. My money is on Lacy. I also think that Derrick is learning that he has to take charge of his mother. We shall see.” Blake said earnestly.

Valentina breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m glad my sister is doing well.”

Blake paused before he asked the next question, “My love, are you jealous or upset that Lacy is a submissive while you are a slave?”

Valentina laughed, she knew this was coming. “Sir, I love you and I love being your slave. I feel honored, so please don’t worry and…by the way, your child was kicking me all night long.”

Blake smiled. “I love you my little slave and when I cum home I’ll take good care of you. Have you been going out?”

“Yes Sir, I spent time with Jake and Hayley and Daniela and the twins. Mason was busy at the restaurant. I’m fine. No worries. Have a safe trip and get home to me soon. I miss you.” Valentina said.

“I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Have a good day my dear.” Blake said and smiled. He truly loved her.

“You too my love” Valentina said and they both hung up.


Derrick woke up. He stretched his tired body and looked over at the alarm clock by his bed. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. Calling downstairs he ordered some grapefruit juice, an egg white vegetable omelet and toast from the kitchen.

In the shower he washed. His dick was getting harder by the minute as he thought about what would happen that evening. The maid brought up the tray and was startled as Derrick walked naked out of the bathroom. She blushed. Derrick grinned and waved his dick at her. “Get over here and suck me.” He said.

She blushed further and ran from the room. Derrick chuckled. He dressed, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and sat down to eat his food.


Lacy woke up at 4 pm. She was starving. Blake knocked on the door and she opened it to find him carrying a tray with soup and half a sandwich. “Dinner in this joint is at 6, but I want you to have something beforehand.”

“Thanks Blake, I’m starving.” She said eyeing him up and down. Blake set the tray on the table and as soon as he had done this, Lacy ran her hands up his crotch and grabbed his dick. “I want your cock inside me before the night is over.”

Blake grabbed her hand pulling it behind her back and kissed Lacy hard on the lips. “Behave girl, you’ll have plenty of dick tonight, but if after all your fun you want mine, then I’ll gladly fuck you. I’ve waited a long time.”

Blake released her, “Sit down and eat. Then get dressed in that sexy red number. There will be someone to do your hair and make-up. I want you to look so hot that Amber will turn as red as your dress.”

Lacy sat down and ate some of her soup, “Why do you want to make her jealous?”

Blake sat a little ways away from Lacy, “If you want Derrick to put you first, then you have to knock the queen bitch down a peg or two. You have to take control. I think once things get started, your natural nature will take over. This family has been so tightly strung that they need to let all this go and I think you’re the right person to do it.”

Lacy grinned at Blake, “How’s my sister and my little niece or nephew?”

“I spoke with Valentina today. She’s fine and my child is doing a tap dance inside her.” Blake said with a look Lacy had never seen before; one of love and pride.

Lacy looked up at Blake through her lashes, “You really love my sister, don’t you?”

Blake nodded, “I loved your sister from the first moment I saw her. She is everything to me.”

Lacy continued eating, thinking about this, “I hope that Derrick will love me just as much.”

“He does. He just needs to learn. He’s young. I’ve lived a long life and I know what it’s like to love and lose that love. Derrick is just finding out who he is and how he should treat you. I think he’ll be fine once he cuts those apron strings.” Blake said and stood up. “I’ll see you downstairs at 6. I know your pussy and your emotions will be intense. Just hang on for a little while and you’ll be able to release all that tension.”

Blake left Lacy to her own devices. He went downstairs and ran into Janice. Janice was a bit afraid of him and Blake knew it. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “I’m going to fuck you my little mouse and you will enjoy it.” Blake said and saw the look of fear, want, need, and anxiety in her eyes.

He released her and with a laugh walked outside to enjoy the air.


Lacy could feel her body heating up. She moved her hand down to her sex as she finished eating and played with her pussy. She took off the nightgown and admired herself in the full length mirror. She was giddy with the thought that she was no longer a virgin. Lacy thought about how Derrick had fucked her and how very much she wanted Blake to put his big cock in her ass and pussy.

The same maid that had brought Derrick his brunch knocked on the door to pick up the tray. “Come in.” said Lacy still staring at her naked body.

The maid entered, “I’m sorry miss. I came to get the tray.”

“You may come in and take it away. I’m finished.” Lacy said.

The maid averted her eyes and went to pick up the tray when Lacy grabbed her arm, “Do you think I’m pretty?” she said seductively.

The girl nodded, “Very pretty miss.”

“Would you like me to kiss you?” Lacy asked.

The girl nodded and then said, “Miss, I’d like you too, but I would get fired. I have to go to the kitchen, please let me go.”

Reluctantly, Lacy let her go but not before she kissed the girl softly on the lips. The girl blushed and took the tray and left. Lacy laughed and walked into the shower. She masturbated until she came. She felt much better. The heat subsided just a little and the thought of fucking Derrick, Blake and anyone else made her smile broadly. She would push down her desire until then.


Blake made sure that the people making up Lacy were gay men that had absolutely no interest in women other than to make them look beautiful.

When Lacy walked out of the bedroom with the sexist dress since Halle Berry at the Oscar’s when she won walked out of the room she did indeed look like a movie star on the way to receiving the award of her career. Lacy was in a red dress that made everyone stop and look at her including Derrick who’s dick did a big jump. She looked hot, sexy and ready for trouble.


Amber came into the room trying to make a grand entrance, but as was becoming usual Lacy had taken away her glory and Amber was not happy, not happy at all.

Alan gripped his wife’s arm as he led her to the dinner table. She glared at Lacy who smiled sweetly. Bronson who was sitting on one side of Lacy while Blake was on the other was quietly laughing at Amber.

Derrick was looking at his mother as if he couldn’t wait to strip her of the black lace gown she was wearing, but every once in a while, he would glance over at Lacy.

Amber narrowed her eyes as she watched her son’s eyes go back and forth between him and his intended.

Dinner over. They all moved into the living room where music was playing. Blake stayed close to Lacy and kept his eyes on Amber. He knew the formula was working through them and things were about to get very interesting.

“The Boy is Mine” came on the stereo and Amber glared at Alan who she knew had programmed the music. The song about two woman both claiming one man set the tone for the evening.

Amber stalked up to Lacy, “He is mine.” She said adjusting herself. Privately Amber had to admit that Lacy was beautiful and that bothered her even more. She felt like the evil step-mother in Snow White asking the mirror; ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all” and the mirror would answer back, “Sorry rich bitch you were one hot shit, but now Miss Lacy that’s one fine bitch.”

Lacy laughed in Amber’s face. “I know you can’t wait to fuck him. Enjoy it, because you only get two times to do it and then he’ll never fuck you again. He’ll be in my bed, his lips on my lips, his cock getting hard at the sight of me, his tongue licking my lips and my very young sweet pussy.”

“You cunt!” Amber said and went after Lacy…

Derrick went to intercede, but Blake and Alan stopped him. “They have to get this out.”

Amber slapped Lacy hard and Lacy slapped her back, “You are one old bitch, who thinks that going to the plastic surgeon will stave off old age, well honey you need to forget that shit, you’re an old bitch. I will give him children.”

“Let’s take this downstairs.” Blake said as Amber turned on him.

“I know you want to fuck her too. I’ve heard you took her ass and fucked that. Her asshole must be like the Holland tunnel.” Amber said.

Blake sauntered up to Amber, “You don’t want to fuck with me or I will fuck your ass and you won’t enjoy it.”

Alan grabbed Lacy’s hand and opened the door downstairs to the playroom. Derrick took his mother’s hand, “Mother come on downstairs.” He said stroking her arm which sent shivers through both their bodies.

“Yes son, I will.” She said conciliatorily.

Everyone went downstairs. Lacy stood in front of the bedroom door. “You are not taking her in there. If you want to fuck your mother, do it here where we all can see it.”

Blake was the only one who was not surprised that the submissive Lacy had turned into the dominant Lacy. Derrick’s eyes grew sad. “Lacy, I uhm” he didn’t know what to say.

Lacy stepped out the way, “Go ahead, get it out of your system and then…” She looked pointedly at Amber, “You and I can move on.”

Derrick turned beet red and led Amber into the bedroom. Amber smiled at Lacy. Her face victorious as the door closed and she locked it.

Lacy stared at the monitor while everyone else watched her not moving.

Amber kissed Derrick. She felt his chest and felt down to his cock. Amber wrapped her arms around her son’s neck and Derrick pulled her in close.

Lacy watched, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Blake put his arm around her shoulder.

Amber kissed Derrick then dropped to her knees. Hurriedly, she unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. His cock was hard and throbbing and she took him into her mouth. She began to suck. Derrick was thinking about the argument and his mother and Lacy and he grabbed his mother’s head and pulled her off his cock.

Amber looked up expectantly. Derrick stroked his mother’s hair and helped her up. He sat with her on the bed, “Mother, I’m not going to do this. I realize that I truly, truly love Lacy and I want to be with her.”

Amber looked with horror at her son, “but, but, she fucked your father and you belong to me. Please Derrick I’ve been waiting so long.” Amber begged.

Derrick stood up, went to the door and unlocked it. Lacy was standing watching him as he came up to her, “I’m sorry Lacy. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Lacy looked over at Amber still sitting on the bed shocked and now crying. She kissed Derrick lightly on the lips, “Go to her, it’s your duty and I know you want to. You have my permission.”

Derrick kissed Lacy hard on the lips. “I love you very much and I’ll make it up to you.” He said and he returned into the bedroom.

As the door closed, Amber looked with gratitude at Lacy and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Lacy looked at Blake who said to her, “I’m proud of you. For the ritual’s sake it had to be done.”

Alan walked over to Lacy and knelt at her feet, “Welcome to the family my daughter; anything you ask of me I will give you.”

Lacy took charge, “Then daddy, get under my dress and eat my pussy, let’s get this party started.”

Blake laughed, “You heard the lady, what is your wish for us Lacy.”

Lacy grinned, “I want you to fuck Janice. I think she’s dying to feel your big dick in her pussy.”

Janice shyly looked up at Blake who took her over to the bed. Lacy crooked a finger at Jackson, “Come on brother-in-law, it’s time you had some pussy.”

Lacy asked Alan to get up and undue her dress. Alan slowly pulled the zipper down as he kissed her back. “Daddy, if you behave I’ll let you fuck my ass while your son takes my pussy.”

Alan nodded as Pedro glared at Lacy. Lacy walked over to him, “You’ll get your turn. Right now I want you to go over to Bronson and Bronson I want you to suck Pedro’s dick.”

Bronson turned red and grabbed Pedro. “I’ll suck your cock, but not before I spank your ass.”

Pedro tried to fight Bronson, but in the end Bronson won. He pulled down Pedro’s pants and began to spank.

Pedro was watching Lacy. She walked over to him as Bronson was slapping his ass and she bent down, “Don’t worry, I won’t turn him straight, but I want to feel his dick in my pussy.” She said kissing his lips.

Pedro growled at her, “Ouch! Please don’t fuck my husband.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Brandon said as he turned Pedro’s ass pink.

Lacy laughed and went over to the bed where Blake was between her legs eating Janice’s pussy. “Let me have a taste” Lacy said as she got on the bed.

Lacy turned back to Jackson, “Get undressed and have a taste of my very nice pussy.”

Jackson looked at Pedro who was crying from the hard spanking he was getting. Bronson turned to Jackson and smiled. Jackson smiled back, Pedro deserved to have his ass whipped.

Author’s note: Fiction. Gregg finds his life upended after a difficult breakup, and finds it leading him to an entirely new kind of household.

I wonder what would have happened if I had never confessed. At the time life seemed good. I had settled down with Alison and even proposed marriage.

When I proposed we had agreed to wait before we set a date. This seemed fine at the time. We were doing very well together. Soon after we got engaged, she decided to take another job (she had been my secretary). She said it created a conflict of interest for her working under me at the same time we were so heavily involved personally.

She took a job with a law firm that was well-known locally and had even begun to attract a nationwide clientele. The job seemed to fit her well and she soon found herself working as a paralegal. This was great for our income, but it meant now there were many nights she had to stay late at the office, and a couple of times she had to travel out of state.

I was happy to see her do well, but hated to have my time with her curtailed. Also I missed her efficiency around the office. My new secretary was OK, but it just was not the same, and it meant I had to put in more time just to get the same work done.

Alison seemed to love it, though. When I did have time with her, she was smiling all the time and had lots of interesting stories about her job, her boss, and the interesting and sometimes evil people with whom they had to deal.

One night soon after a particularly grueling and successful case, she and I were making love when she commented on the small tattoos on my groin and buttocks (I had had the “property of Lynette H.” script covered up with intricate designs just about the time I moved in with Alison).

“What is that?” she asked. “It’s a strange place for a tattoo.” I was right then feeling very close to her. I just did not feel like making something up. So I confessed to her about my past relationship with Lynette.

Alison looked angry. “I just don’t know what to say,” she told me. “When exactly were you going to talk to me about this? It makes me feel like I don’t know you. I think we should stop now, and I think I’d like it if you slept in the spare bedroom tonight”

I burst into tears and begged her not to stop the sex, not to exile me like this, but she was adamant. All she said was, “I need time to think.” So off I trudged to the spare bedroom.

The next morning, I slept a little late and when I get up there was a note from Alison. She said she had decided to go on into the office because she wanted to catch up on some paperwork she’d forgotten. It was a Saturday and I thought she was going to take the entire weekend off for a change, but she was obsessed with the job. I was a little disappointed because I wanted to get our difficulty of the previous night behind us.

We shared housework pretty much 50 – 50, and so I just got started on my chores, and when I got done, turned on the TV to watch some college football. A few minutes later in walked Alison.

“Turn off the television, Gregg,” she told me. I hated to do so because the university team was playing and I was a big fan, and I’m sure she saw my hesitation. Nevertheless I did as she asked.

“I find what you told me last night very disturbing, Gregg,” she said. “It’s something that should have been discussed up front before we got involved. I’m not sure what kind of relationship I can have with you now.

“For the time being I’d like it if you continued to sleep in the guest bedroom,” she continued.

“But Alison, I’m still the same person. I haven’t lied to you. I still love you. I help you around the house. I do everything you ask.”

“You didn’t exactly lie,” she replied, “But you withheld something very important about yourself, something very important about how you relate to women, and I have to figure out if I can still be with you after knowing this. And I suggest you give me plenty of space while I make up my mind. It’s important if you want there to be any hope at all for this relationship.”

After a while she went out again, and told me just to get dinner on my own. She wasn’t back until late, long after I’d gone to bed in the spare bedroom. The next day she slept late, and went out again most of the day.

She didn’t come home until after I had eaten. She sat down in front of me, and said, “We have to talk.

“I love you very much,” she continued. “But I can’t handle what you told me. It’s disgusting, and I hate it, and so even though I love you, I can’t stand you right now.”

“Isn’t there anything at all I can do to help make it better?” I asked. At this she began to cry. “No,” she said. “It’s too painful now. In fact I can’t handle you living here any more. I’m going to have to ask you to move out as soon as you can.”

“Does this mean we’re not engaged any more,” I replied. At this she sobbed louder, ripped the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at my feet.

“Just get away from me,” she screamed. “I don’t want to even see you now.” I retreated to my room. The next morning she went to work early and I didn’t even see her. I could tell by her coldness that evening it really was time to move. I found an apartment within a week and had all my stuff out a day or two later.

I was devastated. Afterward, it seemed I did nothing but go to work and otherwise just seemed to sit at home heartbroken.

After a few months of this I was at home reading one Saturday when the phone rang. It was Alison. As soon as the hello’s were done, she said, “I really do want to apologize for how I treated you when we broke up. I don’t want to say more over the phone. Could we meet somewhere?”

I agreed immediately, and hope was making my heart beat faster. We met about an hour later at a roadside diner where there were a lot of private booths.

“Gregg,” she told me looking into my eyes. “I know I was very unfair to you when you confessed what your relationship had been with Lynette. I said some very hurtful things, and I’m deeply, deeply sorry.”

“That’s OK Alison,” I said tentatively. “Does this mean we can start seeing each other again?”

“No Gregg. I’m sorry. It doesn’t,” she said. “You see after you moved out I started thinking about everything you said, and it made me feel things I hadn’t felt before. Once I quit being angry I started wondering about myself. A couple of months ago, I went out for drinks with one of the new partners at work. She’s a beautiful wonderful woman, and I’ve been fascinated with her since I started working there.

“After we’d had a little wine, she interrogated me gently about why I had been feeling out of sorts, and I just told her everything about us.”

My heart sank. I’d had no idea she might be bisexual.

Alison picked up on my feeling, and said, “It’s not exactly what you think, Gregg. She did take me home that night, and we did make love, but she introduced me to a whole new world. I’m her slave now, and I’ve never been happier.”

I was miserable. “But then, why are we even talking now?” I asked.

“That’s just it,” said Alison, grabbing my hand. “I still care about you. Love you even. But we could never be a couple because what I know now is I have to have someone to dominate me, and you’re a slave, too.”

I stated to protest, but she held up her hand. “No, Gregg. I’m right on this. You could never dominate me. Remember I lived with you for the better part of a year. It’s just not in you. Besides I belong to Melissa now.”

“But what about us?” I exclaimed.

“That’s just it,” said Alison. “There is a way we can be closer together that wouldn’t violate my commitment to Melissa, and would give you what you need as well. Are you willing to trust me?”

“I’m not sure I have a choice. I love you so much I’d do just about anything to be close to you again,” I said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Alison smiled as sweetly as I used to remember from our best moments when we were together. “Let me make a call,” she said. She stepped away from the booth, dialed a number on her cell phone, and spoke into it for a couple of minutes.

After she was done, she walked over, leaned down, gave me a kiss, and plunked down into the booth beside me. “You are so not going to be sorry,” she said. She looked straight at me. “Do you have plans this afternoon?”

I admitted I did not. “Good!” She said. “You’ll need to come with me.”

“But what’s going to happen? I asked, bewildered.

“Sh-h! You’ll just have to trust me,” she said, smiling.

She took me by the hand to her car, and drove us out of town until she came to a gate that led into a large wooded property. “Where’s this?” I asked. She just hushed me again as she turned into the lane.

We drove up to a large manorial looking home with a couple of smaller houses close by. She parked the car, went up the manor house and knocked. The door opened quickly and we went in, off to the left there was a study with the door ajar. Alison took me over there and we went in.

Sitting in a chair was a lovely dark-haired woman in equestrian gear. She turned around from her desk. Alison immediately rushed over, knelt down and kissed her feet passionately. “Alison, dear, how lovely to see you,” the woman said as she pulled Alison to an upright kneeling position and embraced her warmly. They kissed deeply. “It’s always so good to see you, Mistress,” she said.

Alison then turned to face me, kneeling beside the other woman’s chair. She motioned nervously with her hand. “Gregg, get on your knees!” she whispered. I felt I had no choice and did as she asked.

After I was on my knees, the woman eyed me for a moment, then looked down at Alison, saying, “And what is this charming treat you’ve brought me?”

“This is Gregg, Mistress,” Alison replied. “Oh-ho! You’ve done well indeed,” the woman said. “He’s the one you told me about when we had our first talk, Isn’t he?” Alison nodded. “Very good then. Alison honey, you’re dismissed.”

Alison immediately kissed the woman’s feet, got up, and left the room shutting the door behind her. Here I was on my knees before this woman I did not know, and the woman I loved had left me there alone with her. What was going on?

“Hello Gregg,” the woman said. “I’m Melissa, Mistress Melissa to you. I’m a law partner at the firm where Alison works. I also have money of my own. This house, the other buildings, the land around them, and the people in them all belong to me. No one can even be a guest in this house more than once unless they belong to me.

“I think Alison told you she’s my slave, as is everyone else who lives here or visits here frequently. She’s a wonderful lover among many other things.”

At this I started. “I feel badly for you losing that,” Melissa said, “But Alison has made the right choice. You have the chance to make a good choice, too, and you will have the chance to be around Alison if you make it, even though she still will belong to me.”

“I feel like I don’t know what I’d be getting into, Mistress,” I said.

Melissa smiled. “You do have manners. That’s very good. You might do well here, you know,” she said. “Your question is perfectly reasonable.

“I possess five women and two men, including Alison. Becky, whom you certainly will meet if you make the right choice, is a slave, but she serves as my assistant and to some degree as overseer of the other slaves.

“Some of the slaves live here. Two of the women, including Alison, do not, but do spend most of their free time here with me. I encourage my slaves to be close friends, and even intimate with one another, but that is of course subject to my desire at all times because their bodies continue to belong to me.

“The slaves take care of all the household and property maintenance chores, and run all the errands. This gives me the leisure to concentrate on my work and on my own life. They also must always remain available for direct personal service to me.

“I consider the submission the slaves give me as a very profound practical and emotional gift, and I am grateful for what they give me and sacrifice for me every single day. I think you could be one of them, if you’re worthy.

“I’m going to start with a little test. Take off your clothes for me, pile them neatly over there, and kneel back down where you were. That’s good,” she said as I did so.

This was humiliating. I didn’t even know Melissa, and here I was, naked in front of her, and my Alison was somewhere else in the house. “I see your little penis is excited to see me,” she grinned. “Now I want you to masturbate for me.”

“But . . .!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t want to hear another word. If you are not willing to do what I say, just get your clothes back on. I’ll call Alison. She’ll drive you back to your car, and you’ll never see her again. It’s your choice.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said, and I began stroking. I masturbated furiously and it felt oh so good. As I got close to the edge I called out, “Mistress, I think I’m going to come!”

“Stop!” she said firmly a moment later, and I did. The frustration was intense and there were tears in my eyes. My breathing was ragged. “See. You already respond to my commands,” she said. “And I can tell you’re enjoying this. I think when you say yes, you’ll be glad you did.”

Then she ordered me once again to masturbate, and when I got to the brink she stopped me. She repeated this three more times. At the end of the third time as I got to the brink, she said, “Now come for me. Come for me hard and say my name over and over again as you do. Also catch as much of your come as possible in your other hand”

At that I started coming in one of the most explosive orgasms of my life. “Melissa! Melissa! Melissa! Mistress!” I called out as the hot come gushed onto my hand and onto the floor. “Thank you, Mistress. Thank you,” I sighed as the last pulsations ended.

“Good,” said Melissa. “Now lap up every last drop. Don’t look that way. Just do it,” she said. I did as she said and lapped the hot sticky mess from my hands. “Don’t forget the mess you left on the floor,” said Melissa, and I knelt to the floor and licked that up, too.

“This shows,” said Melissa, “that your sexuality will belong to me, regardless of what feelings you might have for Alison.” She turned around and pressed a button on her desk. A moment later, another woman poked her head in the door. She eyed me with curiosity.

“Becky, honey, would you please tell Alison to come here for me?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Becky replied and shut the door. In a few moments, Alison came in the room, kissed Melissa’s feet, and turned to look at me as I knelt there, naked, come still plastered to my penis. Alison looked both sad and hopeful at the same time.

“Alison, dear, I think I’m going to offer Gregg the opportunity to be one of my slaves,” said Melissa. “But since you and he used to be engaged you are allowed to object if you wish.”

“No, Mistress. I want him here,” Alison said softly.

“That’s good,” said Melissa. “Gregg,” she said. “Get dressed. Alison will take you back to your car. You will have one week to decide. Alison will call you one week from today, and if you say yes, she will bring you back out here and you will become my slave immediately. Do you understand?

“Also I don’t want you to date anyone or to masturbate before you hear from Alison. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress it is,” I said. At that Melissa turned back to her desk and began to examine some papers there. I got dressed. When I was done, Alison motioned back, and whispered, “Kiss the Mistress’s feet before you leave.”

I crawled over to the desk, knelt down and kissed Melissa’s feet. She just kept on working, and I backed up so Alison could do the same. After that, Alison took me by the hand and we went back to her car.

She was quiet on the drive back to town. When she pulled into the parking lot at the diner, she turned to me and said, “Gregg, this is our one chance to ever spend time together. I miss you so much! We’ll both belong to Melissa, but we’ll belong to her together. Please say yes when I call you next week. Please!”

I drew her to me, held her, and kissed her gently on the lips. “I’ll wait for your call,” I said. She nodded, her eyes full of tears. I was crying, too.

“I’ll talk to you next week,” she said in a soft voice as I got out of the car. I smiled and kissed her hand.

“Until then,” I replied. I gave Alison one last look, then got in my car and drove home.

I thought about what had happened all week. I still wanted to get closer to Alison, Mistress Melissa was incredibly charismatic, and I felt a sense of wonder in her presence as I rolled over and over in my mind what she had made me do. But I could not quite get my arms around being one of many slaves in a household, and so when the phone rang the following Saturday promptly at 9 am, I still had not made a decision.

It was Alison of course. “Hi Gregg,” she said tentatively. We made a little small talk, and then she asked me directly, “Are you going to come be with us and serve our Mistress? I so hope you say yes. I can’t bear to lose you again.” She began to cry.

I melted then and there. “Alison, don’t cry. Sure I’ll come. I’ll be with you and serve our Mistress with you.”

“Oh thank you. Thank you Gregg,” gasped Alison. “You don’t know how much this means to me.

“Now here’s what you need to do. You need to pack up all the clothes you need for work for the coming week, and your toothbrush and stuff, and meet me at the diner promptly in one hour. Can you do that Gregg?”

This meant I was going to be staying at the compound, and looked like much more than I had bargained for. But I had already said yes and made the commitment. “I’ll be there,” I told her.

An hour later, I was in the parking lot at the diner when Alison pulled up with another woman in the car. I recognized her as Becky from the previous week, the woman Mistress Melissa said had oversight over the household and its slaves.

When I began to get out of the car, Alison rolled down her window and said, “No. Get back in. You’re going to be following us out to the compound.”

“OK,” I said and got back behind the wheel. About a half hour later we were pulling up to the manor house. Becky and Alison got out of their car and I got out of mine. Becky held out her hand. She was a short, solid pretty woman. “Give me your car keys,” she said. I turned and looked at Alison, and she made a quick motion with her head like “Do what she says.” So I handed Becky my car keys.

“Someone will take your luggage to where you are going to stay and put your car in the garage. I want you to go in the front door, take off all your clothes, fold them neatly and kneel right there in the entry way. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”

“Uh, OK,” I said. Becky immediately slapped my face. “That’s, ‘Yes ma’am,’ to you, Gregg. I’m Mistress Melissa’s slave, but I’m certainly not yours. She trusts me to oversee this household for her, and you will treat me with respect. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Good. Then do as you’re told.” Alison hadn’t said a word. I went in the door, stripped and knelt where Becky had told me.

A few minutes later Becky appeared in front of me and said, “Kiss my feet, slave.” I did as she asked.

“Good,” she said. “Now I’m going to explain a few things to you that you need to know to be able to start living here. That’s right,” she said to my quizzical look. “You’re going to live here starting today, as long as you are serving in this household, whether it’s one week or the rest of your life. It’s what you’re going to have to do if you ever want to see your precious Alison again.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” I said. Already the decision had been taken out of my hands.

“OK, then,” she said. “The first thing you’ve already begun to know. To you, I’m Miss Becky, and you are to address me as Miss Becky or ma’am. Is that clear?

“Yes, Miss Becky,” I replied.

“All right,” she said. She went on to explain some of what was going to happen to me. After she was done, she came up to me, fastened a collar around my neck, and attached a leash to it. She then led me, nude, through a covered walkway into one of the smaller houses, where she unlocked a door, and said, “This will be your room.”

We went in. There was a twin bed and a few simple furnishings. My luggage was right there, just as promised. There was a small bathroom and shower with no door.

Becky unfastened the leash and collar and said, “Take a shower right now, and shave your entire body. I’m going to stay and supervise so you don’t do anything unauthorized with that dick of yours, big boy. You really will be punished if you do.”

So she pulled a chair into the bathroom. I was really hot and bothered from not having had any release since the orgasm in Mistress Melissa’s office, and having a pretty woman sitting there smirking as I showered and shaved made it even worse.

After I had got done and toweled off, Miss Becky sat on the bed and had me kneel on the floor by her feet. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Alison walked in. She had a collar on her neck, too, a much more elaborate one than mine. She had on a red micro mini skirt and a bikini top of the same color. She was carrying a tape measure.

“Stand up,” Miss Becky said. I did so. Alison and I could not help ourselves; we fell into each others’ arms crying. It was so good to feel her body next to mine. We kissed deeply. After a couple of minutes of this, Miss Becky said, “Enough of the romance, you two. Alison, you have a job to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. Alison got out the tape measure and began to measure my waist my thighs and even the length of my penis. I was confused, but it felt amazingly good to have her touch me there. After she was done, Miss Becky said, “You can go now.”

Alison said, “Yes ma’am,” and immediately left the room. Some minutes later the doorknob turned and Mistress Melissa entered. This time she was wearing black pants and an elegant looking white blouse. Miss Becky immediately got to her knees and kissed the Mistress’ feet, and I kissed her feet also.

She took each of us gently by the chin and had us kneel up. “Becky honey, you’ve done a really nice job primping him for me. Thank you. You can go now.” Miss Becky immediately bowed down again and kissed the Mistress’ feet. Then she got up to go and the two women grabbed each other and kissed passionately before Miss Becky left the room.

Mistress Melissa sat on the bed and had me kneel to face her. “You know why you’re here, do you not?” she asked.

“To serve you, Mistress,” I replied quickly.

“Well yes,” she laughed. “There is that. But no, the real reason you are here is as a special favor to Alison. She’s very special to me. So if you do anything that makes her unhappy, make any demands on her, or do or say anything that makes it more difficult for her to serve me, you are out of here. Immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,’ I said.

She nodded. “You are on probation for the next two weeks. You have that long to learn the ways of this household, and to fit in. I know Alison will help. She does want you here.

You’ll be confined to these quarters and see no one until some time tomorrow afternoon. You’ll see why then.”

This confused me, but all I said was, “Yes Mistress.”

“In addition to Becky and Alison, I have three other female slaves, and two other male slaves. You will meet them after your confinement ends. The females who live here have quarters in another building. You and the other males are not allowed to go there.

“The females do have access to this building, and if one shows up at your room with a key to get in it means she has my permission to have intimate contact with you if she wishes. You are not allowed to deny her this.

“Most other times you are not allowed to have erotic contact with any of the females, especially Alison.”

My heart sank. “Here, you have to remember, your bodies belong to me, and erotic contact between you and any of the females will only occur if it pleases me, and I give permission to the female. You are not allowed to ask.

“However you are allowed erotic contact with the other two males, if that’s to your taste, and either of them is agreeable to the idea.”

I shook my head vigorously and Mistress Melissa laughed. She had a wonderful laugh. “They’re actually having an affair right now, so they might not be too game for a third party anyway,” she said with a smile.

“What skills do you have to offer the household?” she asked after a moment. I told her I was good at electrical work, having worked as an electrician a couple of summers during college.

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “We’ve been needing somebody with those skills for a long time. I think this could work out well. Just let Becky know if you need tools or need to take any refresher courses in town if your skills are rusty at all.

“When you’ve passed your probation and proved you can contribute to the well-being of this household, there will be a formal induction ceremony at which you will commit yourself to the household and to my service personally.

“At that point you will place all your worldly goods and all your finances into a trust account I will administer.” At this my eyes got big. “You won’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I’m a very good investor, and a couple of my slaves are now millionaires. All of them have done quite well.”

Then she said, “Kneel up,” and took my penis in hand. It got hard quickly. “Yes, this does excite you,” she said. “I’m very optimistic. This poor thing, though,” she said, giving my penis a squeeze, “will have to learn some discipline. You’ll be alone and unsupervised until tomorrow afternoon, and I’m counting on you to not misbehave. Can you do that for your Mistress?” I nodded. “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

She got up to go and I knelt down to kiss her feet. She smiled again. She left the room, locking the door behind her, and I was alone. The door lock was on the outside only. At noon and again at dinner time, Miss Becky appeared leading a collared male by a leash. The male had on a full face mask and some kind of contraption I could not make out around his waist. He carried a meal tray, which he handed to me. Forty-five minutes later each time they came around again and the male fetched the tray. There was no talking.

I didn’t sleep well that night. The next morning and noon the meal service was the same as Saturday. Neither Miss Becky nor the male spoke. About two hours later, Mistress Melissa entered the room followed by Miss Becky. Miss Becky was carrying something in a package. I knelt and kissed Mistress Melissa’s feet and Miss Becky’s feet. Miss Becky told me to stand with my legs spread and I did so. She then pulled a plastic contraption out of the package and showed it to me.

“Gregg, this is a chastity belt that has been custom made for you.” I must have looked confused. Mistress Melissa said, “In this house all males are required to be in chastity at all times except on the rare occasions I decide otherwise.

“This is done so that each male realizes that his body and his sexuality are my property. Also I believe that any self-willed penetration of a female by a male in this house is an outrage and not to be permitted. Because you are in chastity, the females will be able to have intimate access to you without there being any concern that you can commit this outrage. Also because I retain the key, any physical pleasure you are allowed to experience will be under my complete control.”

At this point Miss Becky placed the belt on me and snapped it into place. I liked when she touched my penis, but quickly it was encased in hard impenetrable plastic. Miss Becky then took me into the bathroom, showed me how to wash under it, how I would have to pee sitting down from now on, and gave me some pointers to keep it comfortable.

She then led me back to the Mistress, and had me kneel before her. “Sweetheart, that’s all I’ll need. Thank you,” said Mistress Melissa. Miss Becky knelt quickly, kissed Mistress Melissa’s feet and left the room.

The Domina looked at me intensely and said, “You are now almost ready to be introduced to the household. Some things I want you to understand. First if I am not present at any time, you are to obey Miss Becky as if she were me. She is allowed to punish you for infractions as she sees fit, and she is to be treated with the utmost respect at all times. However she has no right to confer or revoke sexual privileges, and does not have access to the chastity belt keys.

“You will receive your work assignments from Miss Becky. She is responsible for taking care of all your practical needs here, such as your transportation to and from your job.

“Second you like the other males are to be nude at all times while indoors here, except when dressing to go to work, or if you need to wear protective clothing of some kind while doing work around the house. Appropriate clothing will be provided if you need to work outdoors, or for any authorized outdoor recreation when the weather is too inclement for nudity.

“All the females are required to wear bottoms in the house at any time there are males present. They may go topless or cover up above as they choose. From time to time you males will be confined to your rooms so that the females can disport nude or during ceremonials where female nudity is required.

“Third the females do outrank you males and you will be conscious of this at all times, and treat them with the utmost courtesy and respect.

“Will you do all this for me, Gregg? Will you?”

“Yes Mistress Melissa, I promise you I will.” I knelt down immediately and covered her feet with kisses and tears. My heart was beating fast. I was a jumble of emotions, and the plastic enclosing my manhood was confusing my body.

She raised me up and cupped my chin in her hand, caressing my face gently. “Dear boy, you’re so brave for me. I think you are going to make a good slave, and I think you have what it takes to be happy here. I know this will be difficult, but I know you will be strong for me. Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re welcome, Mistress Melissa,” I stuttered, “I want to serve you well.”

“And you will, Gregg,” she said. She turned to go, then turned back to me and smiled. “I think there’s someone here to see you,” she added.

I saw Alison. She knelt immediately and kissed the Mistress’s feet, and then came into the room as Melissa left. She knelt down in front of me, wrapped me in her arms, and we kissed passionately. She was wearing a white camisole and a tiny black bikini bottom. Our hands were all over each other.

Quickly we were on the bed and she was out of her top. I rubbed my entire body against her and suckled each of her breasts. I laid her on her back and kissed down to her navel and worshipped the insides of her legs. I kissed her vulva reverently through her panties. I put my hands in the waistband of her panties to take them off and she nodded with a sad look in her eyes.

I pulled her pants off and performed oral sex on her until she came four times. She was bucking and screaming and crying all at once. Finally she lay still, and I placed my head on her belly.

After a moment I looked up at her with hope in my eyes. “No, Gregg,” she said softly. “I don’t have the key. I’m not supposed to help you that way. I’m so sorry.”

“But this is so unfair,” I wailed.

“Yes of course it is,” replied Alison. “But we both belong to Mistress Melissa now, and this is the way she wants it.” She pulled me up to her face and looked me in the eyes. “If you had never told me about Lynette, I would never have known I had this need, and we would still be together, just you and me. But you did tell me, and now I know I need this.

“I need Mistress Melissa, Gregg. I need her and I’m incredibly grateful to her that she let me into her world, and then she let you in, to be a special friend to me. She’s perfect, Gregg. You’ll see.”

“Alison, I haven’t made love to anybody since we broke up. I guess I was waiting for you to come back. And now here you are and I still can’t have you.”

“But you can be with me in so many other ways, Gregg,” she said. “I tried dating after we broke up and even slept with three different guys, but none of them were anything like you, and it just didn’t work. Then I met Mistress Melissa and nothing’s been the same since.”

“Do you still date then?” I asked.

“No, silly. Of course not. I belong to Mistress Melissa, and I haven’t had sex with anyone outside this household since she made me hers.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

She looked at me with even more intensity. “Gregg, Mistress Melissa encourages all the females to become lovers with one another, and I’m part of that. I’m particularly close to a girl you’ll meet at dinner tonight named Meghan. We share a room now, the nights I stay here. She’s brilliant. An artist. She has her studio here. But I’ve made love to all the females here, including Miss Becky, and I’ve even had the privilege of sharing a bed with Mistress Melissa a few times. I never thought I might be a lesbian, or bisexual, but I’ve never had more pleasure in my life. I’m sorry, Gregg. I can’t go back and I don’t even want to go back.

“But I’m on the outside looking in,” I said.

“No you’re not, honey. You’re going to be a part of us now. You see, Mistress Melissa teaches us that females reach their peak of intuition and devoted service when we orgasm frequently and particularly when we do so with another female. She says that males by contrast reach their peak of intuition and service when they are denied almost all orgasms. You have different needs than we do and that’s why there’s a different system for you.”

“This is just so hard,” I said.

“I know it is, sweetheart,” she replied. “But I know you’re being brave for Mistress Melissa and I know you’ll be even braver for me. You can do this.”

I nodded, still disconsolate. I’ll do my very best, Alison,” I said.

“Of course you will, and I know you’ll be successful,” she replied. She jumped up off the bed, found her bikini bottoms and camisole, put them on and slipped out the door. “See you at dinner, Gregg,” she said lightly as the door closed behind her.

I lay back on the bed, my heart a jumble of emotions as I contemplated everything Alison had told me. It hurt me that she had so much freedom with the women but was not allowed to be fully intimate with me. It hurt that she belonged to someone else, and was happy she did. My penis hurt as it throbbed against the chastity equipment trying to get hard.

About three hours later Miss Becky entered the room. She was dressed in a black low-cut leather bustier that showed her ample cleavage and a matching leather skirt with expensive knee boots and black stockings. She also was wearing an elaborate collar. I took a moment too long before I got off the bed, knelt down and kissed her feet. As soon as I knelt up she slapped me across the face. “You’re going to have to learn to be prompt when homage is due,” she told me. “In fact you are going to have to learn a lot of things quickly unless you want to be punished all the time.

“Anyway, I’m here to educate you a little more on how you need to behave here and what the rules are. “Yes, Ma’am,” I said. She then took out two alligator clamps and fastened one to each nipple. The pain was intense. Miss Becky giggled. “Pain is part of how you learn obedience,” she said.

You’ve noticed you are not allowed to have a watch and that there is no clock in your room.” She continued. I nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“In fact there are no clocks anywhere in this house where any slave besides me has regular access. Do you see that metal grating over there?” I looked in the direction of my bed and nodded. “That’s a one-way intercom. When it’s time for you to get up, an alarm will ring through there, and you will report to me in the main house as quickly as you can. If you take longer than 30 minutes, you will be punished.

“If it is a work day I will arrange for you to be transported to your job. If it is not I will give you your housework assignments for the day. If you are not going to work, you will of course be naked when you report to me. On workdays you will be transported back here after work, and will report to me as soon as you are nude to receive any evening work assignments.

“Dinner tonight is a sort of party to welcome you to the household and to wish you success in your probation. After tonight, though, you can expect to be on kitchen or table service duty at every meal you are here until your probation is done.” At this she grinned evilly. “You can count on having plenty of other chores as well.

“If you do have any free time there is a small library off the main dining area. In it you will find books and articles about female domination and female superiority. It is your responsibility to be familiar with these materials and to be guided by them.

“Do you have any questions?” she asked. I couldn’t think of a one, so she continued with instructions on dinner etiquette in the household as I knelt there before her,

I must have looked startled. She said, “Please understand that even though you are more or less permanently denied release, and even though respect is essential, we promote an atmosphere here of erotic pleasure and sensual friendship. To a degree we are all in love with one another. Mistress gives us permission.

One slave will be in the kitchen and that one and one other will be serving as well. You are not to have any direct conversation with them while they are serving. You will meet them another time.” She reached down and took the clips off my nipples. They hurt even more as the blood rushed back into them.

She pulled me to my feet by my collar. “Shall we go to dinner,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, and followed her out of the room. We went through the walkway between the buildings, came into the main house and turned into a large dining area where Miss Becky left me. The two serving slaves, a male who in addition to his chastity belt was wearing a white collar and a black bow tie and a female dressed in a French maid’s outfit with a very short skirt were bustling about the dining area. The male was medium sized and blonde with close cut hair. Like me he was completely shaved. The female had large brown eyes and brown hair hanging down to her shoulders.

I then saw Mistress Melissa in a dazzling red off-the-shoulder evening gown with red high heels. A female slave with blonde curly hair was on her knees speaking to the Mistress. The female had on a short black skirt with thigh-high black stockings. She had on a beautiful gold-colored collar and was topless.

As soon as I saw Mistress Melissa, I rushed over to her, knelt down and kissed her feet. “It’s nice to see you, Gregg,” she said. “Kneel up, please.” I did so. She put her hand under my chin and turned me to face the young woman, who was kneeling up facing me.

“Gregg, I’d like you to meet Meghan,” the Mistress said. “Meghan, this is Gregg.”

Meghan took my hand as if to shake, then thought better of it. She grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me fiercely. “Gregg,” she said. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Alison has told me so much about you I feel like you’re a friend of mine already. It’s so great you’re going to be part of us.”

I was a jumble of emotions. There was my attraction to Mistress Melissa at whose feet we both knelt. There were Meghan’s lovely breasts with the tiny erect pink nipples. There was her obviously delighted face as she smiled at me. And there I was looking straight at Alison’s lover, who now could have my sweetheart in so many ways I could not. I felt jealous and turned on at the same time.

“I’m . . . happy to meet you, Meghan,” I said. “I-it’s an honor,” I stammered out.

“Oh you two just crack me up,” said Mistress Melissa laughing. “Meghan, honey, please take Gregg around and introduce him to the rest of the household.”

“Yes Mistress.” She said, kissing Melissa’s feet. She took me by the hand saying, “C’mon, Gregg, let’s go.” I bent down, kissed the Mistress’ feet as well and got up to follow her.

Standing nearby, having an animated conversation with Miss Becky was a tallish dark haired woman with her hair in a bob and large breasts. She was wearing a short black low-cut sleeveless jacket and a tight black miniskirt. I could see an elaborate tattoo at the base of her spine and another one or two on her neck.

“Jennifer, this is Gregg, our newbie” Meghan smiled. “Jennifer extended her hand, and immediately I bent down to kiss it. “Well he certainly has nice manners,” she said to Miss Becky. Miss Becky extended her hand and immediately I bent down to kiss it as well.

The two women went back to their conversation and Meghan took me to a corner of the room where Alison was talking to a male, nude and locked in chastity like me. He had pierced nipples and thick black hair. Also like me he was shaven all over.

“That’s Kevin. He and Jennifer are brother and sister,” Meghan whispered. “They came here together.” As Meghan and I walked up, Alison put her arms around Kevin’s neck and kissed him with an open mouth.

Alison was dressed demurely in a grey knee-length skirt and an elegant white blouse. My heart was torn at what I had just seen. Meghan immediately walked up with me in tow. “Meghan, sweetie, It’s great to see you!” she exclaimed, taking Meghan into her arms. The two kissed, and rocked together for a moment, caressing each others’ hair.

They separated. Alison gave Meghan’s bare breast a quick squeeze, looked at me, smiled and said, “It’s nice to see you mingle well in company, Gregg.” With that she took my face in her hands and kissed me, though not deeply.

Meghan said, “I’m forgetting my manners! Gregg, this is Kevin.” I turned to him and as instructed by Miss Becky, we kissed quickly on the mouth. “This is an interesting new pet for the Mistress,” said Kevin. “I don’t think he’s my type, though.”

Alison giggled. “You’ll like him well enough once you get to know him. I certainly did,” she said.

“Well I guess that’s why he’s here,” Kevin replied and walked off. Now Alison and Meghan were arm in arm smiling at me. Each of them took one of my hands. “I know this isn’t completely easy for you, Gregg,” said Alison. But you’ll learn to love it once you find out how free we all are here to love and touch one another.”

At this the two women pulled me closer. “Why don’t we sneak off after dinner and go somewhere, take off our shirts and cuddle with this poor boy,” said Alison. “If I know my Gregg, it’s sure to make him feel better.”

I must have looked doubtful, because Meghan smiled, looked hard at me and said, “Come on, Gregg, It’ll be great. You haven’t lost Alison. You’ve gained all of us, and the Mistress, too. You’ll see. Please say yes.” I nodded feeling a little bit weak. The female hormones in the room were strong and I felt a bit shaky on my feet. I nodded and a weak sort of smile crept to my face.

A moment later, Miss Becky rang a dinner bell, and we all began moving towards the dining table, which was now piled high with food. I took my place at one side of the table next to Kevin, who was to my left, in the seat nearer the Mistress. Alison, Meghan and Jennifer were seated on the other side of the table facing us, with Alison nearest the Mistress, Meghan in the middle, and Jennifer on her opposite side.

Mistress Melissa sat in an ornate chair at the head of the table, and Miss Becky sat in a chair like ours at the foot. The two serving slaves stood on opposite sides of the table behind the diners, the female behind Kevin and me and the male behind Alison, Meghan and Jennifer.

The Mistress tapped her glass and asked for quiet. “I think everyone knows we have among us a new novice, and I think everyone at table has met him,” she said. “He’s a lovely boy, and I think he is going to fit in well here, and I know you’ll show him how much love is in this house, and what a rich experience it is to be here, and to belong to me.

“So please make Gregg feel welcome.” Meghan, Alison and Kevin, even Miss Becky, showed warm smiles as did the Mistress. Jennifer, however, looked like a cloud had passed over her. She was not smiling.

“Gregg, would you like to say something before we eat?” asked the Mistress. I stood up. “I just want to say, even though I’m frightened, how much your warm welcome means to me. I can see how much you love each other, and I only hope I can love all of you half as well.” After that, I sat back down.

“Very nicely put Gregg sweetheart. Now shall we eat?” Immediately we all dug in. the food was delicious and the conversation lively. I found out that Kevin was an accomplished musician, and that Meghan’s art works had been exhibited in three major cities. Jennifer had been a banker and now assisted the Mistress with investment strategy.

Miss Becky told me she had been the property manager at Mistress Melissa’s condo in town, and that was where the two had met. Now she managed the Mistress’ property where we were living as a full-time job, in addition to overseeing the household’s slaves. I had the impression she was Mistress Melissa’s primary lover.

“That doesn’t make any difference,” she told me. “In the end we all are Mistress Melissa’s property, and I’m subject to the same requirements of obedience and discipline as the other females. And it’s worth it. I’m so much happier and so much a better person since I submitted to her and agreed to wear her collar. I’d never go back.”

Mistress Melissa told us about her recent vacation in East Asia. Her insights were fascinating. She told us about a boyfriend in town she’d just had to break up with because he “just didn’t understand anything. He was hot in bed though.” As the table laughed over this man’s foibles while the Mistress described him it became clear this was Stephen, who when he was an undergrad at the university had been Cynthia’s lover and had broken up my first submissive relationship with a woman.

I breathed a very discreet sigh of relief when I figured this out. One less thing to stand in my way, I thought. This surprised me. I was finding myself really wanting to belong to this unique household and to Mistress Melissa. I even was beginning to feel a genuine liking for Miss Becky in spite of (or maybe because of) her disciplinarian ways.

Only Jennifer could not so much as crack a smile, and barely participated in the conversation. As the serving slave began bringing dessert, Mistress Melissa looked in Jennifer’s direction and asked, “Jennifer honey, is anything the matter?”

“Mistress, I hate how you are always bringing new slaves into the house and putting them closer to you when they can’t give you what I do,” she said, with I expect more vehemence than she had intended.

“Why whatever do you mean, Jennifer,” said the Mistress, an edge creeping into her voice.

“You bring these little brats in here, and they don’t know how to serve you like I do, and then you favor them over me, and give them all the same privileges as me when they haven’t been here nearly as long. It’s not right!” she yelled.

“Jennifer, that will be quite enough,” said the Mistress very firmly, but without raising her voice. “I think you are trying to make poor Gregg here feel unwelcome, and worse, you’ve insulted this precious household, and you’ve insulted me.

“I want you to go over to the punishment cross, take off all your clothes, grab the pegs above your head, and stand facing the dining table with your legs spread. Do it now.”

“But Mistress, there’s males present. That’s against the rules. I’m just telling you what I think.”

“And tonight I’ve heard quite enough of what you think,” replied the Mistress. “This is my house and you are my property and you will do as you are told, unless you don’t want to be my property any more.”

“But Mistress . . . Yes Mistress,” Jennifer replied softly, her shoulders slumped. She walked over to a St. Andrews Cross that I now saw was set up about 20 feet from the table directly in front of me and behind the three women’s seats.

Immediately she shucked off her clothes and, naked, gripped the pegs above her head and stood there for all of us to see. Her body was beautiful and proud with her legs spread, her shaven sex clearly visible, her breasts thrust out and her tattoos on display.

Kevin looked astonished, proud and angry all at once, but he kept his peace. Alison and Meghan and I just stared. Quickly the Mistress said, “Ignore her for now. Let’s enjoy our dessert. She can stand there and think about it for now, and she can be punished when we are done.

At that she called out, “Jeff, Shauna, come here. Eat dessert with the rest of us. You can clean up later. And this way you’ll get to meet Gregg.” Immediately the two serving slaves stopped what they were doing and approached the table. Each kissed the Mistress’ feet and turned to approach me. I rose as the male stepped forward towards me. “Gregg, this is Jeff, Jeff, Gregg” said the Mistress.

He and I kissed on the mouth as I had been instructed. “It’s really nice to meet you,” he said. “Alison’s said so many nice things about you, and so far she’s described you to a tee.” He grinned. “It’s a real pleasure. I hope I can live up to my billing,” I replied with a grin of my own. Now Shauna came up. She had a cheerful smile on her face and the maid’s outfit looked great on her.

“Gregg, this is Shauna. Shauna, Gregg,” said the Mistress. I took Shauna’s hand and began raising it to my lips, but she stopped me, raised her face to mine and gave me a great big kiss. “Welcome to our home, Gregg. This is going to be great,” she said in a wonderful soft voice, hugging me. I hugged back and told her, “It’s great meeting you, too.”

Jeff and Shauna went to get chairs. Jeff placed his between the Mistress and Kevin, and Shauna placed hers between Meghan’s and Jennifer’s. We continued eating and talking. Jeff turned out to have been a postdoc at the University and Shauna was a radio disc jockey with an afternoon drive time show. Jeff now lived out at the compound and was the full-time groundskeeper.

After we had finished eating and had a moment to relax, the mistress said, “I think it’s time we punished Jennifer for her unkind behavior. Jennifer, do you understand how wrong you were to say what you did at table a few minutes ago?”

“Yes Mistress, I do,” she said. “This is your house and I am your property. The rules are yours to make and unmake as you choose, and my only choice is to obey them. I was wrong to entertain even a thought of questioning them. I feel I’ve dishonored this house, the other slaves and you. Please punish me.”

“Very well,” said the Mistress. “Turn and face the cross with your legs spread and put your hands back on the pegs.” Jennifer did so. “Becky, please do the honors,” the Mistress said. Miss Becky then stood up, walked over to the Mistress, knelt and kissed her feet reverently.

When Mistress Melissa raised her, Miss Becky walked over to a corner of the room and came back carrying a long rattan cane. “You will receive ten for your disobedience tonight,” said the Mistress. “You will count each one and will thank me for each as Miss Becky deals it out. You will make no other sound on pain of the punishment being doubled. Is that clear?”

“Yes Mistress,” replied Jennifer softly. “Very well then Becky. Begin,” said the Mistress.

Miss Becky cocked her hand and gave Jennifer a smart stroke. An angry red welt appeared on her behind. “One. Thank you Mistress,” she said. The process was repeated. “Two. Thank you Mistress. Three. Thank you Mistress,” and after what seemed like an eternity as Jennifer’s ass got redder and even began to bleed a little, finally, “Ten. Thank you Mistress.”

At this Mistress Melissa walked over to the cross, took Jennifer into her arms and cradled her softly. Jennifer looked so naked and vulnerable. The Mistress released the clinch and said to Jennifer, “Go to your room right now. Do not put on clothes and do not come out again until you are told. Becky, follow her and see that she’s locked in.” At that Jennifer knelt, kissed the Mistress’ feet and walked out of the room followed closely by Miss Becky.

Mistress Melissa turned to face the rest of us and said, “I think that’s quite enough for one night. Why don’t the rest of you go to your rooms, or,” and at this she smiled a conspiratorial smile “anywhere else you think might be nice. Shauna, why don’t you remain behind for a few minutes?”

At this all of us lined up to kiss the Mistress’ feet and got up to go. Shauna stayed kneeling there, the Mistress’ hand caressing her hair. Meghan and Alison came up and each took me by a hand. They pulled me towards a room I hadn’t seen yet.

It looked like a small room but it had a giant four poster bed in the middle. The two women pulled me toward the wall facing it. They immediately began kissing and groping each other as their clothes went flying. Their passion for each other was crystal clear. I felt a confusion of jealousy and admiration as they went at it.

They suckled each others’ breasts and touched each other anywhere they could reach. Then Alison pushed Meghan onto the bed and the smaller woman spread her legs. Alison buried her face in Meghan’s sex. Meghan writhed in complete enjoyment, and Alison did not stop until Meghan had come to climax at least twice.

Then Alison jumped up on the bed and sat on Meghan’s face until she had had her fill. The two then sat face to face their pudenda jammed together. They looked intensely in each others’ eyes as they came at least twice more.

After that they lay entwined for a few minutes, until Alison crooked her finger and said, “Come here Gregg. Join us.” I did and the two women got on either side of me and covered my body with kisses. In spite of the frustration of my confined sex, I reciprocated with enthusiasm and had begun going down on Meghan when I heard the Mistress’ voice in the room. “Girls,” she said in an amused tone, “I think you’ve had quite enough fun with this new pet for tonight, and I think it’s high time you brought him to me.”

I noticed the voice was coming from a small loudspeaker set in the wall. A one-way intercom, just like in our rooms,” said Meghan, as she and Alison got quickly off the bed and each of them grabbed one of my hands.

“Quickly now,” said Alison. “We definitely do not want to keep Mistress waiting.” They did not stop to put on clothes but just took me, each by one hand out of the room and back towards the Mistress’ office that I had seen my first day at the household.

Alison knocked at the door. It opened and there was Mistress Melissa wearing a short, deep red dressing gown, with a wickedly amused smile on her face. Immediately all three of us knelt to kiss her feet.

When we had done so, the Mistress said, “You two girls can go now. I’m sure you can find some way to amuse yourselves.” At this she giggled. Alison and Meghan got up right away and left us there.

“Gregg, crawl into the middle of the room on your hands and knees, and then kneel with your face to the floor.” I did as I was told. I heard the Mistress whispering to someone.

Gregg, kneel up and face me,” Mistress Melissa said from one side of me. I turned in her direction as I followed instructions. As I did so, I saw Shauna, lying on the bed with a very contented look on her face. She smiled and said, “Hi, Gregg.”

“Shauna and I have had a very nice talk and some wonderful sex,” said the Mistress. “But I have an urge to toy with someone before I go to sleep, and you are the lucky angel.

“Shauna likes you a lot so I’m going to let her watch part of it to see if you are as good as she thinks.” Shauna smiled and said, “Please don’t disappoint me, Gregg.” I told her I would do my best.

Mistress Melissa told me to stand up. She then produced a key, unlocked my chastity belt, and had me put it on a nearby stand. My erection jumped out strongly, and this made the Mistress (and Shauna) smile. “When you are with me,” Mistress Melissa said, “You are on your honor.

“But you will not come, unless specifically instructed to do so. I hope I can count on you, Gregg.”

I said, “Yes Mistress, you can,” even though I was in desperation wanting to touch myself.

“You’d better keep those naughty hands behind your back,” the Mistress said grinning. “They’ll betray you if you are not careful, and I would hate to have to dismiss a cute little toy like you.” I clasped my hands behind my back.

Mistress Melissa had me go over to a punishment cross much like the one in the dining area. She had me grab the pegs above my head. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but it’s my right to punish you any time it amuses me to do so, and so that’s what I’m going to do. “Is that OK with you, Gregg,” she said with just a light touch of sarcasm.

“Yes Mistress, it is. Anything that pleases you is OK. Please punish me.” She produced a riding crop and proceeded to lay on 20 strokes. It hurt terribly, My bottom was on fire. I knew from what I had seen happen to Jennifer earlier to count the strokes and thank the Mistress after each one, and that’s what I did. Finally after, “Twenty. Thank you Mistress,” she told me to lower my hands. She grabbed me from behind and caressed my chest and belly.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me,” she said. I think your treat for tonight will be to attend me at my bath. Shauna, how do you think he did?”

“He was wonderful, Mistress,” Shauna replied.

“That’s nice,” said the Mistress. Why don’t you get dressed, come over here and give Gregg a hug and a kiss before you leave.”

“I’d love to, Mistress,” she replied. I heard her jump off the bed and fumble for a couple of minutes with her clothes while Mistress Melissa continued caressing my chest and belly.

Then the Mistress turned me around and there was Shauna in a white top and a small pair of blue jean shorts. She came up and embraced me warmly. “You’re really sweet, Gregg. Thanks for coming to live with us and to help us serve our Mistress.”

We kissed rather deeply for a minute or so. Then Shauna broke the clinch, went to her knees, kissed the Mistress’ feet. “Thank you so very, very much, Mistress,” she said.

“You’re welcome honey. You know you are. Now scoot!” said Mistress Melissa. Shauna immediately got up and left the room.

Now I was alone with the Mistress. The Mistress of my Alison. The Mistress of these wonderful women who had been so kind to me. The Mistress of this beautiful erotic atmosphere and this wonderful house. My Mistress, I realized. I wanted to serve her. I wanted to be here.

The Mistress turned me to face her. “I do belong to you, don’t I?” was all I said.

“Yes you do, lovely pet,” she said in reply. She turned me around to face her. “Go into the bathroom and draw my bath,” she said. “Mind you I like it extra hot. You’ll find the bubble bath right in front of you.” Immediately I kissed her feet and went to do what she told me.

When I was done, I went back out to her and kissed her feet again. She had something in her hand. She took me by the other hand and led me into the bathroom. She walked right up to the tub. I did not believe I was going to see this wonderful Mistress naked.

But then she said, “See that hook to your left. Reach up and touch it. That’s where my robe goes.” I was confused. Then the Mistress turned around and held up the black satin cloth she had been holding. She put it over my eyes and blindfolded me. My disappointment must have showed.

Mistress Melissa cuffed me gently on the cheek. “You didn’t think I was going to let you see me this early in the game, did you, silly slave?” I just smiled ruefully. “You are far too new for a privilege like that,” she said.

I felt her turn back around. “Take my robe,” she said. I did so and found the hook to hang it to. Then she took my hand and I could hear her stepping into the bath and settling in. “This feels so wonderful,” she said. “It’s so nice just to relax.”

Then she started talking to me. She told me about how she had been an emancipated minor when she was 16, how she had inherited huge amounts of money and property, including the one where we now were on condition that she go to college and then to law school. She’d been wild, she said, and not interested in school, but she went, decided to work hard and had a bachelor’s degree and a law degree with highest honors by the time she was 23. She took a job at her current firm, where Alison still worked, and made partner in less than three years.

But she was bored. During college, she had found the local D/s community and found herself to be a natural dominant. She said it was a great way to blow off steam, and struck up a special friendship with Jennifer and Kevin. She said they were both into heavy pain and extreme practices, and that was fine for awhile.

Then she got acquainted with Miss Becky, who was the property manager at her condo complex. The two of them began a love affair. “I think I’m really pansexual,” said the Mistress, “but I have had all my closest relationships with women.”

The relationship eventually evolved into a Dominant/submissive mode, but Becky was not happy. Then the Mistress hit upon having Becky, Kevin and Jennifer move out to this property in the country, and asking Becky to become the overseer of the other two.

“It worked wonderfully,” said Mistress Melissa. “Becky needed a dominant outlet and those two were perfect. In addition I hired Becky as my property manager here, and she’s done great keeping it up. And she enjoys doing the heavy stuff with Jennifer and Kevin.

“The heavy stuff isn’t so much my thing any more, and those two needed far too much of my time. But I love them anyway. There is no way I could have my career and have both those two without Becky’s help. And I really do love her. She’s been so compliant with me since I brought her out here and gave her those two to play with.”

She told me how she met Shauna and Jeff, who were dating at the time, at a club one night, and talked them into a three-way, “With me as the center of attention, of course,” said Mistress Melissa, the smile I couldn’t see clear in her voice.

“What I found was that as their commitment to me deepened, their passion for one another grew, and they kept getting happier. After a few weeks, I began dominating them, both together and separately, and several months later, I asked them to move out here.

“I knew with them the hard core stuff just wouldn’t work, and so I started the more sensual approach I still use. It’s worked wonderfully.

“But those two surprised me. They still care about each other, but it wasn’t long before Jeff fell for Kevin and Shauna fell for Jennifer. That’s when I decided to grant all my women the freedom to be intimate with one another. I encouraged Becky to join in with the two other women, and even though she doesn’t take advantage that often, it’s made her a happier person.”

She told me how Meghan had shown up one day at her condo in town doing market research, how Meghan had seduced her, how she’d quit her job the next day and moved right into the household. “She was just doing that dumb job to support herself. She’s a brilliant artist, and as soon as I knew I told her to set up her studio right in my house,” said the Mistress.

“I was lucky to make my connection with Alison a couple of months later; I think Alison already told you how that happened.” Again I could hear the smile I couldn’t see. “Meghan was becoming the odd girl out, what with the two couples and Becky not wanting to be especially close to anyone but me. Alison and she have turned out to be perfect together.

“And the best part of all is the two of them have drawn Shauna back out of a shell she got into when she was involved with Jennifer, and she’s happy again. I just adore her. She’s such a hot girl.”

“Mistress, may I ask a question,” I said. “Certainly,” she replied.

“If Kevin and Jeff are locked up in chastity all the time, how do they make love?”

“Well most of the time they have to be content to hug, kiss, cuddle, and rub their bodies against one another.” Again the smile in her voice. “I bet you don’t know yet why I started locking you boys up in chastity to begin with.”

“No Mistress, I don’t,” I replied.

“Well about three months after Becky, Kevin and Jennifer moved out here,” she said, “Becky was out, and I came here after work one evening, and I found the two of them making love. Remember, they’re brother and sister, and it just completely disgusted me.

“After that I realized I couldn’t trust a male slave to behave himself, so I had Kevin design his own chastity belt, and he’s worn it ever since. I put Jeff in chastity as soon as he arrived, just like I did with you.

“I did punish them, but I’m afraid they liked it a little too much for it to have any strong effect. But having Kevin in chastity cured both their rebelliousness, not quite all the time, but at least most of the time.

“But to get back to your question, if both have been on good behavior I let them out of chastity for a night once a month so they can enjoy each others’ bodies completely. Other times they stay locked up just like you are. They both say the sex is a lot better because they have to wait for it, and Jeff in particular is amazingly happy.

“But let’s hear about you,” the Mistress said. “I think I already know a little bit about your relationship with Lynette, but I know there’s more, so tell me.” So I told her. I filled in all the details about what had happened with Lynette, and then I told her about Cynthia, our long friendship, how she had seduced me to be her slave, and how the relationship had ended.

“I think it’s a good thing I quit seeing Stephen,” said the Mistress. “He’s great in bed, but he’s not too pleasant a guy, is he?” She put her hand in my chin. “However, you were completely wrong to physically attack your Mistress’ chosen lover,” she continued. “You have to honor your Mistress’ choices, and I hope you remember that here.”

I was a little bit scared now. She then said, “She did cross a line, though. She had no business trying to take you to another level without talking to you first to see if you could handle it, and easing you into it if it was something she really needed. It was probably inexperience, don’t you think?”

“Yes Mistress, I think it was,’ I said.

“Well too bad, for both of you. But at least now you have me,” she said. After that she told me about her background, how she was an only child. “I got used to getting what I wanted,” she said. How her father had died when she was 12 without ever having let her get to know him. How she had had an independent streak, so that when her mother died when she was 16, she was ready for the world.

I told her about how I had been the oldest of four, of how my mother had sort of run roughshod over my father, of how I had come to the university town to go to college, and about my job.

“Yes,” said the Mistress. “I think I’m going to let you keep the job for now, even though you’re going to live here full time. We’ll see how that works.” My heart jumped on my throat a little bit as I realized just how quickly I could become utterly dependent on Mistress Melissa.

“I think it’s time you gave me my bath,” she said, so that’s what I did. I soaped and rinsed her all over. I spent extra time on her luscious breasts and on her sex. She didn’t seem to mind. She emitted a couple of soft moans, but did not say anything more.

Afterward, she had me help her out of the tub, handed me a towel and had me dry her off. Again she did not seem to mind when I was extra careful with her breasts and sex. Then she had me hold her robe out for her, and she stepped into it.

Then I heard her turn around and she took my blindfold off. She looked down at my erection. “I can see you thought that was all pretty hot,” she said. I knelt down immediately and kissed her feet.

She had me rise and then comb her hair. Afterward she brought me back out of the bathroom and over to the bed. She put the blindfold on me again. I heard her climb up on the bed. She told me to get on the bed, straddle her and give her a back massage. Her naked back felt wonderful. I massaged her thoroughly.

“That was great,” she said when I was done. Then she got out from under me, pushed my head down and had me perform oral sex on her. She writhed intensely until she came once, twice, maybe three times. “That wasn’t half bad either,” she said when I was done.

She had me get off the bed and take off my blindfold. “I was going to let you come, Gregg, but after that bath, the backrub and those delicious orgasms, it’s just not going to be practical tonight. I’m too sleepy.”

“But Mistress . . .,” I gulped. My erection was raging.

“Now Gregg,” she said putting her hand under my chin again. “Don’t ruin a perfectly good evening by rebelling.” She looked intensely into my eyes.

“I won’t, Mistress,” I said. It hurt to say it.

“Good,” she said. “Now lock yourself in that chastity belt, and go on off to bed. And get the light on your way out. That’s a good boy.

“Yes Mistress,” I said. I knelt and kissed the floor beside her bed. When I got up, she grabbed me and gave me a kiss on the lips. I went, picked up her robe, put it in the closet, and painful as it was, both physically and emotionally put the chastity belt back on and locked it into place.

“Good night, sweet slave,” she said as I left the room and turned out the light.

I did not sleep so well that night in my room. I tossed and turned as I thought about the Mistress and her body about how she allowed me to touch her, of the tease of not being allowed to look as I touched, of the affection she had shown, of how Alison and Meghan had just stopped what they were doing with me and brought me to the Mistress as soon as commanded to do so.

I thought of my Alison as the property of this wonderful Mistress, and of how the Mistress did anything she wanted with her, and about how she and the other women did almost anything they wanted with each other. I thought of my own burning raging sex, and about how, in a strange way I was beginning to be happy, too.

After dozing off for the last time for what seemed like only a moment, I heard Miss Becky’s voice over the intercom. “It’s time for you to wake up, Gregg. Please report to me as soon as you are showered and dressed for work,” she said. Rock music started playing loud. I realized it was Monday and I still had my job to report to.

So I got out of bed showered, shaved, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and hurried down the walkway to the main house. In the main house, just to the right of the main entrance there was a small workroom, and I could see there was a desk in it. As I approached I saw Miss Becky sitting at the desk. I walked in and immediately knelt down and kissed her feet.

“Kneel up, Gregg” she said. Today she was dressed in a gray pantsuit and a simple blouse. Only her collar stood out. She gave a friendly sort of half smile. “You must have done something right last night, because Mistress certainly was smiling when she and Alison left for work this morning.” I remembered Alison still worked at Mistress Melissa’s law firm.

Miss Becky reached over and took off my collar. “You won’t need this until you get back here,” she said. “When you do get back, I want you to undress immediately and report to me here. Do you understand?

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” I replied.

“Good then. Go. Your ride’s waiting outside the front door.” I must have looked confused. “You don’t think we’re going to trust you with car keys just yet, do you? Just go out the door.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. I kissed her feet again and went out the door. Out in the front drive Shauna was waiting behind the wheel of a spanking new silver Sebring. I got in the passenger side and began to buckle up my seat belt. “Aren’t you forgetting something silly boy?” said Shauna.

I turned, she took me in her arms and we kissed deeply. “I could see how brave and wonderful you were for Mistress last night,” she told me. “The way you were so brave for her when she whipped you was wonderful to see.

“And I saw how excited you were. Mistress loves it when her slaves get excited for her. Sometimes I think it’s what she lives for.”

She was wearing an elegant pink pantsuit with a ruffled blouse, a pearl necklace and lots of rings.

“Anyway I have to go in early to meet with some advertising clients, and so Miss Becky asked me to take you in with me. It’s nice to have you to myself for a little while,” she smiled.

We chatted the entire way to my office. She talked about how she and Jeff had just been dating casually when they met Mistress Melissa, and how they both had been feeling out of sorts. “The Mistress just turned it around for us,” she said. “When we focused on her we just forgot about all of our own shit, and we were able to have a halfway decent relationship with each other.

“Then we moved out to the house, and just like that, “bang!’ Jeff falls in love with Kevin and I’m head over heels for that crazy sister of his, Jennifer. I never thought I had a bi side in me, and I guess Jeff was just a closeted gay.

“Jeff’s a really nice guy. You’ll like him,” she continued. “I’m not always sure Kevin is good for him, but he’s still head over heels.”

“What about you and Jennifer?” I asked.

“Well that was hot for a while, but I just got grossed out when Mistress told me she caught her doing it with her own brother, so I just pulled back. I sleep with her sometimes, but I don’t let it get too close. Now most of the time when I’m out here and I don’t feel like staying in my room alone, I just crawl in with Alison and Meghan, or just Meghan if Alison’s in town that night.

“I haven’t even had a man since I moved into the house,” she said. While Jeff and I were still together, she never would let him out of chastity so we could be together, and then after we split up, I’ve just been with the women here; including Miss Becky and once in a great while the Mistress,” she added in a conspiratorial tone.

Then we were at the front door of my building. Shauna said to me, “When you get done with work, go to the coffee shop down the street and wait for me there. I’ll pick you up there at 6:30 sharp. OK?”

I nodded. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and I got out of the car and went up to my office. At work the day went quickly and I was a lot more productive than I thought I would be. I stayed at work until 5:30. Then I shut down the computer, put my files away and went down the street to the coffee shop.

Besides the embarrassment of wearing the chastity belt it had been a pretty normal day. I got to the coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino and a danish and sat down to read the paper. After a few minutes, I felt someone sit in the chair across from me.

I looked up and it was Alison. She reached over and kissed me hard. She took my hand. “Are you OK, Gregg? Is this working for you?” she asked in an agitated voice.

“Yes,” I told her. “It seems to be. Miss Becky said Mistress looked very pleased this morning and said she thought it might have something to do with me.”

“She did look pleased. Oh I’m so glad. I want this to work for both of us, honey.”

“I do, too, sweetheart. I do,” I said. “Maybe our feelings for each other will just be stronger when they flow through Mistress.”

“That’s beautiful. I love it when you talk like that,” she said. “Oh Gregg, pleas

e be brave, and no matter how confusing it gets, promise me you will stick with us.”

“I will, Alison, I will!”

“Oh that’s so good!” she said with passion. She kissed me hard on the lips. Then she jumped up out of her seat and rushed out of the coffee shop. Someone turned on the radio. “I just want to give a shout-out to my good friends, Gregg, Ali, and Meg. You guys rock!” I heard Shauna’s smooth beautiful voice say. Then a new pop song started playing.

About half an hour later, Shauna poked her head in the door of the coffee shop, and motioned for me to come with her. I followed her to her car and we got in. She gave me a quick intense kiss, and put the car in gear.

As we drove out to the compound, I asked Shauna, “What’s with Alison? She came into the coffee shop to see me and just wanted to ask if everything was going OK. I told her it was and basically she just jumped up and left me there.”

“Don’t say anything about that to anyone, do you hear me Gregg,” Shauna said in an agitated voice. “Alison wasn’t supposed to be there, and I don’t want anything to happen to get her kicked out.”

“But what’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s better for now you don’t know. Just trust me on this, Gregg,” she said.

“OK,” I said. But it is confusing.”

“I know it is, sweetie,” said Shauna. “Please just be brave. Anyway, here we are she said as she pulled up in front of the house. She reached over, gave me a full deep kiss, and said, “See you at dinner, cutie-pie.”

“See you then, darling,” I said, and got out of the car.

As instructed by Miss Becky I went straight to my room, stripped, put everything away and went straight to her office. There I presented myself on my knees and kissed her feet. Miss Becky said, “I know it’s not your fault, but you are late and as a result important work did not get done.”

I was trembling, but Miss Becky chose not to notice. “I had to assign Meghan to kitchen duty, even though it wasn’t her turn.” She said. “So to teach you a lesson, I’m going to have you scrub the entire dining room floor tonight; on your hands and knees. You will be punished afterwards, and then you can get something to eat in the kitchen.

“The same rules will apply as when you will be a serving slave. You will talk to no one and no one will talk to you while you are working. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” I said. She then took me to the kitchen and showed me the rags, the cleaning solution, a pair of knee pads and told me to get started. She told me my punishment would be worse if I was slow or if there were any defects in my work.

I noticed Kevin was in the kitchen wearing the collar, the bow tie and an apron to keep him from getting burned, and nothing else except his chastity equipment. He just gave me a cold look. As I got to the door of the kitchen, Meghan came in, dressed in the French maid’s outfit. She gave me a quick pat on my cheek and her eyes softened for just a second as she looked at me. Then she bustled on by, obeying the no-talk rule.

So I spent the entire dinner period on my hands and knees, nude except for my chastity belt, cleaning the floor of the dining area. I did every part except for the area right around the dining table where everyone was sitting.

The Mistress was not there. Miss Becky was sitting in a seat directly to the right of the Mistress’ chair, which was vacant. I noticed as each person came into the room, they kissed Miss Becky’s feet.

Alison’s chair was empty, as was Meghan’s, since she was serving. Shauna and Jennifer were seated side by side and I saw they were holding hands. On the other side of the table Jeff was the only male sitting there.

Miss Becky and Shauna were wearing the pantsuits they had had on in the morning. Jennifer was wearing a really nice knee-length black skirt with a blue satin top that set off her dark hair perfectly. Her hair was shining and her makeup was perfect. She was leaning close to Shauna and they talked together throughout dinner.

Author’s Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2013

And so more pieces reveal themselves. They can only spell trouble in the end. ;)


The urgent feeling I’d had to get out of Auslan’s room and back to the guest wing was not justified when I arrived. At Wilsira’s quarters I had listened, heard nothing, and let myself in quietly as possible. Neither she nor Kerse were present. I was suspicious, wondering what else she was up to—and given that I had been up to my own plot, it was a given that she was doing the same.

Shyntre was in the room, however, and he still slept. Perhaps I’d underestimated how much of a toll this trip was taking on him as well, for him to still sleep even now. I’d known him to be in reverie when I’d left the Priestess and Draegloth at the room—and they must have left soon after, not to have woken him.

I weighed going out as well to see if I could find the Priestess and her son—I needed to for multiple reasons, but…. Perhaps…perhaps not before taking this opportunity to study Shyntre in reverie.

I drifted slowly toward the bed, lowering my weight gently so as not to jostle him. Only when I got close enough did I sense with the help of my bracers that he’d placed a “touch ward” on himself. If anyone with intent to make contact with him came close enough, he’d wake up suddenly no matter how deep he’d been in dreams. It was a good thing I’d only intended to watch him or his eyes would be open right now.

I smirked but could not deny the necessity of the ward, from his point of view. The only one he was willing to admit that he feared was Kerse, but he had no liking of either me or the Priestess as well. He truly did not want to be touched.

Now I had the best of all possible guesses why.

With his face relaxed and his eyes closed, the typical hostility and tension gone for the moment, I was careful not to assume that I’d seen his face before in another. His eyes—when they’d been open— were most similar in color to Rausery’s, the darker crimson versus the brighter, coppery red, but absolutely nothing else about him looked like her. He had the features of a Noble at Court, the finer bone structure with hints of past beauty breeding that I could recognize.

I did not see his mother in his face, however. None of my living Sisters revealed themselves there. He may simply favor his sire much more, and the chances that I might’ve ever seen Shyntre’s sire were similar to the chances I had ever danced upon the spider webs in the Garden at Court and not realized it. That is to say, unlikely.

Still, I wondered if…or, no, perhaps I simply wanted his face to seem familiar. I had been searching to see that face for months before, following my initiation. The mind could play its tricks and I couldn’t really trust it now because my desire to know which Red Sister had last spent time with the Priestesses was too strong. I had to let it go for now.

I sighed softly, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. Thinking about my visit with Auslan delayed my leaving to find Wilsira a little more, as I considered the very last subject we’d discussed—the one of his choosing.

Fertility magic. An “extremely adept” Consort could also have done the same healing magic that Lelinahdara had on me during Lolth’s Threshold? But using it on a healthy womb could have the reverse effect, could make a Drow sterile…and he’d been wondering whether the Sisterhood had “sterilized” their recruits that way, hence why there hadn’t been more children since Shyntre.

It carried its own efficient logic, despite the fact that it had twisted at my sensibilities. Auslan had not put the possibility past the Sisterhood, which only supported our own reputation.

And what had I told him? No, it was individual to me. He could have thought that either that they had sterilized *only* me… or that they had chosen to heal my womb. One or the other. The truth was the Sisterhood hadn’t chosen, the Priestess Lelinahdara had. But that wasn’t important at the moment.

I considered what Auslan himself knew, what he’d witnessed…and nodded to myself. He would know for a fact that I’d been healed from a barren womb. Gaelan had demanded to know whether he’d loosed his seed inside me, even once, before she got there. He knew what happened when Red Sister became pregnant, so he would understand why she demanded an answer—at least in retrospect later, when I’d returned wearing the uniform.

Why had he pushed that subject with me so hard, then? He had recognized the magic in me, and he had answered Gaelan’s question. He should have known why. Subject closed. Why think it was being used on a larger scale in reverse? I didn’t really know. I’d have to talk to him again.

It was very interesting to look back now, knowing that Auslan had fought so hard because of that magic he sensed. He’d said his own would only “make it worse” for both of us…

…and I hadn’t even realized that he was magical. I hadn’t sensed it, and that detail had not been something well known amongst the Nobles. Beautiful, yes, and guaranteed to be fertile, yes. But…fertility magic? I suppose only if that was what they had always meant by “Blessed Grandson of Lolth.” Was it very different from the divine magic, or a relative of it? Again, something else to make sense only once it was known, but the Priesthood and the Consorts had been very subtle about it with the public. Or again, maybe I was just too focused on myself to notice.

I had another thought on the darker side then, one I would never have considered before that the pretty, coveted prizes could even be involved. But say that an “adept” Consort could, if given the order, remove the fertility from a given House. The Consort would not be blamed for the lack of children because he was “blessed” by Lolth, everyone knew it. The Noble female would be the one who lacked Lolth’s blessing. Such a waste. Such a shame. Such a curse.

And it would be true. I’d heard, only once in a long while, a Consort would stay a decade or more with a family and there would be no children from it. It was usually the first sign of a House’s final downfall. Lolth’s will, of course, to grant no children.

By Lolth’s tits…

Again, underestimating all the males I’d ever known. Those elder, female Drow with power and pulling more strings already knew which males needed to be in their control. They already knew how to best use those males to their advantage.

Those Drow certainly weren’t those among ruling the Houses, much as they wished it so.

The “lesser sex,” indeed! Every female who bought into that possessed a major vulnerability… which in a way it was exciting to me now. I could still watch from behind the scenes, smiling as powerful females made the same errors over and over.

Had I remained fertile through my young life, had Juarinia not scarred me the way she had, I may have been the same. I would never have learned to appreciate the pleasure and deviant variety far beyond any desire for reproduction. That had been one of the qualities that had caught the Sisterhood’s attention.

I compared that to my own birth mother. The Matron of House Thalluen, as far as I knew and I had looked into it, had not publicized the sire of her yet unborn child. It had been private, whomever she had chosen. I had to wonder if that was showing more wisdom on her part…had she become skeptical of accepting consorts recommended, traded, or chosen for her, or asking the Priestesses to be considered for a Bred Consort?

My late sisters and I hadn’t shared the same sire, and none of our blood mother’s consorts had stayed around for long. I knew my sire had come from a slightly higher House, Eleventh at the time, and had been a grandson of a Bred Consort—likely where I’d received the blue eyes, if not from somewhere deeper in my former Matron’s line. At the time, she had been trying to form an alliance which ultimately fell through.

But she had me. After that, she had withdrawn from the fiercest competitions, working more defense and protection of what she already had. I never knew why and until now had never been curious. I’d always blamed for her being too cautious and weak, not enough offense.

I wondered now about what she knew and her motives, however…exactly when I wasn’t supposed to care anymore.

The wizard shifted and drew in a deeper breath, his eyelids fluttering at last and I turned my head. Grinning, I waited until his eyes had opened completely before I leaned down and planted my mouth on his.

“Mmfgh!” he exclaimed as his body jolted hard and he tore his lips away, rolling off the bed. He had expected me to lunge for him, and when I didn’t, he had too much momentum going to catch himself. He landed on the floor with a thump.

Oh, I hadn’t had a good, hard laugh in quite a while! I enjoyed it so that my sides were starting to hurt.

“Sirana…” he growled, looking around the room and seeing only the two of us. “What in Lolth’s name are you doing here?”

“Seeing how long I could watch you and not trip that ‘touch ward,’ Shyntre,” I chortled. “Ample time to blow a poisonous dust over your face. I see what you mean about wards not being your specialty. You might want to work on the sensitivity of that spell.”

He muttered something unintelligible which still communicated his bad mood.

“If I may say, you look well rested, sleeping beauty,” I said.

The wizard shot me a scowl. “And what may I do for you this grand eve, oh vigilant one clearly lacking her Priestess?”

I ignored the bait and tapped my cheek thoughtfully. “Hm. Strip down nude for me?”

“Ha. Funny. No.”

“Smear your endowment with glaze and let me suck it off?”

He wrinkled his nose slightly. “No!”

“I promise you’ll get a taste after we’re done. Please?”

He gave me the oddest look for a second before he got it. “Wha—NO!”

I sighed melodramatically, getting to my feet. “Ah well. Another time, then.”

The mage rubbed his face hard and mutter again. “Lolth damn all Red Sisters…”

“I heard that.”

“Good, I’m gla—wait! Oof!”

I loved a straight-up tackle sometimes. I grinned down from atop him as we lay on the floor, before I leaned to bite him on the neck. He struggled mightily but had never really learned any martial tricks to get out of a physical hold. I sucked on his skin hard, intending to leave a marking bruise there.

“Stop!” he cried. “Sirana…Kerse will see…!”

*They’re back?* I lifted my mouth off and glanced at the still-closed door.

That had worked really well as a distraction. Bravo.

The wizard had time to flatten his palms against me and I felt a strong shock of energy burst out. Another of those damned short evocations.

“Owww!” I groaned, my right shoulder going numb as my heart seemed to tremble and skip in my chest, and I reached with my left hand to snatch hold of a nerve point in his side, pressing on it mercilessly.

“AUGH!” he blurted, his body jolting again as when I’d kissed him. “S-stop!”

“A-apologize first.”

“You m-marked me first!”

I chuckled, shifting to another nerve point, pressing hard and growling, “You really think you’re going to win this one, wizard? You won’t get another chance to focus on an incantation.”

He groaned as I caused as much pain as possible without breaking anything in his body. He said through gritted teeth, “O-okay, get off…just don’t—I apologize for th-the shock!”

I got off him then, only now recalling this was exactly how Wilsira had walked in on us the last time… Rausery would be whipping me now for having such poor self-control. I rubbed at my shoulder, finally starting to regain some of the feeling in it.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great thing. The wizard I’d once hated so much…was growing to be nigh irresistible. He even smelled good now. Not as good as Auslan, but still…

Shyntre rolled and got unsteadily to his feet. A bit of sweat showed on his forehead as he caught his breath, likely from the stress of the pain. He looked a bit unsteady as he looked at me. “That spell normally paralyzes for a brief time.”

I cocked a brow and smirked. “Well, it did hurt, if that’s any consolation, mage. Just not enough. You must have fucked it up somehow.”

He shook his head, and I caught something glimmering at his chest.

“You’re not…” He paused as I kept staring. “What? What are you looking at?”

I was looking at his pendant which had tumbled out of his robes in our scuffle, now hanging and visible. It was glowing, a soft iridescent blue. Shyntre looked down and saw it as well, and he gasped softly. It was a surprise to him, too, apparently.

The wizard clutched the gem tightly in his hand and backed up a step in case I was about to lunge for it again.

“Is that normal?” I asked instead.

He narrowed crimson eyes at me. “No…it was inert when given to me.”

“You’ve been fretting over a blue stone that normally has no function except to look pretty?”

He shrugged and snorted. “You all do the same over the Consorts.”

I chuckled. That was especially funny because only a short time ago, I would have agreed with him about Auslan’s only function being to look pretty.

“What did you do to it?” he asked, accusing.

I shrugged, considering whether that information was worth trading. “Nothing intentional, but I have a guess. How about that earlier guess you wanted to trade me?”

“Deal,” he said immediately without haggling. “My *guess* is that Wilsira wanted to see the third daughter of House Peniel. I overheard the Maton say the girl has had ‘another vision’ from Lolth, and this apparently interests the Priestess even though it could just be bunk. There is a regular selection of such claims.”

I nodded. “When did you overhear that?”

“While you were fucking the Draegloth, most likely.”

I grinned. “Very well. My *guess* is that your gem was changed when a psionic fist struck it during a battle. It saved my heart from some of the ravages of the power, I’d wager, although it left a nasty bruise.”

Shyntre stared at me for long moments. “Psionic fist? …Illithids or…?”

“Duergar, actually.”

He seemed to relax a tiny bit at that, but he still hooked his thumb on the leather thong to pull up the sapphire and peer at it closely. It had reverted back to its usual appearance while we’d been talking. “So why would it glow now only to stop?”

“I have no idea, wizard.”

Again I could see his mind chewing at this change in events. He was fascinated and afraid at the same time. “The gem had been pressed between us when my spell went off…I recall feeling something different, but not….” He shook his head thoughtfully.

“Not pain?” I filled in.

He shook his head.

“It blunted the spell, perhaps?” I suggested.

His mouth twisted in irritation but he shrugged. “I don’t know. Psionic energy is different from arcane energy. I don’t see why one would affect the other just being present.”

“So you have an unknown valuable, now. You should thank me.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” he said bitterly. “A Red Sister will be visiting me at some point, after you’ve made your reports, and I will lose the gem again. They won’t let me keep it now that it is changed and *you* know I have it.”

“Fair points,” I conceded. Embarrassingly, he was ahead of me. Not only was it impossible to leave the gem out of my reports because D’Shea had known I’d taken it with me, despite her strong suggestion to leave it with her, but if I came back without it then she’d know Shyntre had gotten it back anyway.

The mage pursed his lips until nearly all the blood left them, and I was mildly impressed that the next thing out of his mouth wasn’t an attempt to bargain me to change my future report.

“Here, take it back now.”

He removed it from around his neck and tossed to back to me. I caught it more out of reflex as, until he’d actually done it, I thought he would hesitate or change his mind. He didn’t.

“It’s better this way,” he murmured, even though there was a clear regret there.

I looked at the pendant in my palm. A sapphire cradled by a moon. “Better, why?”

Shyntre gave me an ugly look. “You see the reactions of others when one of your kind shows up to seize something from them; a possession, a confession, a life…and you ask why?”

I certainly remembered Kaltra’s reaction most clearly. I shrugged. “Of course. My apology, mage. In actuality, this was not my intention.”

He blinked in surprise at my words. Slowly I put the gem back around my neck and tucked it beneath my armor.

I didn’t really want it back myself…it was useless to me in that I still didn’t know what it meant to him, and the chances he would ever tell me now were…well, only improved by the very interrogation methods he was trying to avoid in giving it back to me. Knowing what I knew now from Auslan about him…I didn’t see the benefit in betraying his gesture now at the expense of what more I might learn from him later.

It was now a gem I had no use for but could potentially be coveted by others for reasons beyond its beauty. Sort of like those rare Consorts born every so often who possessed visions from Lolth: the gem could end up more trouble for me than it was worth.

I wanted to give it back to Shyntre…but I would have to lie to D’Shea to make it viable to do so.

I didn’t like the choice. I’d keep it…for now, but I knew it had an expiration date.

“Shall we go find the Priestess?” I suggested.

From Shyntre’s expression, this trip could not be over soon enough for him, but he nodded nonetheless. “Yes.”


It did not take long before the wizard and I split up in our search; we each had our methods to call the other if needed, and having space between us was helping us both to focus.

I’d swept most of the House and was outside in the gardens when I had begun to wonder if the Priestess and her son were even still on the estate. Then my instincts told me I was about to enter a tense space, and my senses followed that gut response immediately. I paused, cautious in my approach to this part of the garden.

I heard unintelligible but harsh whispers before I spied two forms facing off in a well-concealed bit of foliage. I took my time sliding forward, my silence my priority.

My eyes widened when I saw it was Auslan and Shyntre. The Consort stood straight with arms crossed and appeared the calmer of the two—no surprise, really—while the wizard had his hands fisted at his side, his stance hunched slightly as if he might physically attack the Consort.

The mage had his back to me in a three-quarter turn so I couldn’t read his lips, and Auslan…again, not surprisingly…knew how to whisper while making it very difficult to read his. I could only read their body language and Auslan’s expression—if he had one. Right now, he looked proud and curious, unintimidated in the face of whatever the wizard was hissing with teeth bared. The Consort replied serenely.

“Again n-…-r business…!” Shyntre hissed a bit louder in his anger.

It seemed his given response to everyone. None of their business.

Auslan still kept his lips stretched tighter with minimal movement as he replied, although now he looked more annoyed while trying his next tactic. Whatever it was, Shyntre flexed his hands as if he wanted to lose a spell on the other male but knew he couldn’t.

“How…you know…” Some demand, and he was very irritated.

Auslan shrugged and looked smug in his reply. *I’m trained to notice….* I thought I read on his lips.

My gut instinct wove a fairly mundane exchange into a thought of whether Auslan was trying to find out more about me, or maybe just more about a Red Sister’s presence (an understandable curiosity), or maybe even the wizard’s connection with me. I myself had just had a similar exchange with the Consort and, after looking around me again, it was not an impossibility that Auslan had seen Shyntre out here from one of the windows and came down to intercept him.

Should I wait and see, or interfere? Was Shyntre likely to give anything away in a reaction in front of Auslan due to seeing me? Almost certainly. I just didn’t know if it would matter. He didn’t like me but I was interested in him. So what? That wasn’t secret at all. The Consort already knew that.

More importantly, how good was Auslan had pretending he had never met me? Very good, yes, but I’d be catching him by surprise. Would I be causing undue risk to him by stepping out of the bushes? If Shyntre gleaned even a *thought* that Auslan and I knew each other….no, I couldn’t risk that.

I had to go for the long-term benefit, here. I couldn’t allow someone else to know that Auslan knew me, even if it meant the Consort learned more from Shyntre now than I’d like him to.

There were more frustratingly mute exchanges, but all I could gather was that Auslan was doing an excellent job slowly escalating the wizard’s temper. He was poking at him similarly as he’d done me.

Then Shyntre shoved Auslan hard, hitting him in the chest and making him stumble backward. The Consort caught his balance but looked surprised at the strength of the wizard’s reaction. I saw his hands come up as if he expected further violence and would have a response ready.

The sudden flare of arousal on my part caught me off guard, though I instantly knew I would *love* to watch my wizard and Consort wrestle and fight each other. Neither were trained fighters with little chance of lethal tactics, so it would not only be amusing watching them rolling around on the ground but also…

Hot. The very thought made me extremely hot.

My eyes remained fixed on the two males and I squeezed my crotch once just to soothe the sudden ache. Hello, new lust-dream…

“I’m guessing… hunting you like…done before.”

I could finally either read or hear bits that Auslan was saying. Having been shoved and the now high tension between them seemed to make him a bit lax in his subtlety.

“What did…to catch her attention?”

I could have sworn I heard Shyntre grind his teeth at the question, even with the quiet rustles and low pitch of other living things surrounding me in the garden. He whispered as well, but his more vehement gesticulations raised his words to an audible level. “Don’t be stupid, plaything. I exist! That’s what I did!”

Auslan half-smiled but didn’t take umbrage at the insult. “Why not ask Wilsirathon…?”

“I’ve already tried that…her protection is worth nothing…” came the bitter reply. “She uses me the same… still hands me over when they ask.”

“…your headmaster at the Tower?”

The mage shook his head. “He works…that Elder Sister mage, you know that. He’ll give her anything…this new Red Sister is one of hers.”

The Consort pondered. “Have…considered simply submitting? Maybe she’ll lose interest…only that you fight…she is enjoying herself, right?”

Shyntre started to shake his head. “No…you’ve never…with a Red Sister…” He growled shortly. “Don’t tell me how to handle this. You’ve never been taken on anything but silk and wool!”

Auslan smiled, but without knowing what I knew, I wouldn’t have seen the irony in it. On the contrary.. “….assuming the Matrons…some rather…odd tastes at times.”

“Matrons don’t practice their bedroom craft with intent to terrify the Nobles!”

Auslan seemed to concede the point by shrugging. “She’s still young, Shyntre. Let her have you then lose interest…before she gains more rank.”

“No,” the wizard replied shortly.

“…that was the core…last time, wasn’t it? …higher the rank, the less resistance they can tolerate…in front of….”

“…to be known as one who can be taken any time…want? Especially to the youngest….”

Auslan sighed. “…tried to tell you…the longer you fight… you will have to supplicate…she’ll stop looking at you. ….body will never be your own, the Red Sister…bore you and the Priestesses are the ones… possible for you. Why do you make it worse on yourself?”

“Because they don’t deserve their power. If males ran things, you can bet we’d be more wise about using it!”

Auslan chuckled. “… so sure? …nurturing type than I knew, you’d support and protect…better than they do us?”

Shyntre shook his head and folded his arms, not bothering to continue a topic that could only go into a philosophical realm. The Consort gave the wizard a few quiet moments before leaning forward just a bit more, and he said something that , sadly, I could not hear or read at all. I could only go off the wizard’s response, which was to look down at his feet, his folded arms tightening against himself a bit more.

“I don’t…to hear it…” the mage murmured, shaking his head.

“…you have to…I saw you standing…make a choice between them.”

Shyntre trembled slightly. “…could always tell them….”

“You’d…explain why…waited so long….” Auslan’s gaze was unwavering and his body exuded confidence. “Be satisfied…to see me torn…if you… Would you…same as them?”

The mage lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the more beautiful Drow. His mouth tightened, and he shook his head. Auslan nodded back, seeming satisfied with the reply.

Damn it. If only the stupid bugs and creatures around me would stop their black noise! I wasn’t even sure what I’d just heard but knew well by now that these two knew each other much better than just the Consort seeing the mage “occasionally” while growing up. I didn’t know how often they communicated, but they were going over an older conversation they’d had before, when they’d come to some kind of agreement. Allies?

Maybe, or maybe just bonded by situation and happenstance, by necessity or a mutual secret. They were of close enough age to each other, and their social positions weren’t dissimilar. Shyntre didn’t fit in very well either in the Sanctuary or in the Tower with the other wizards, and Auslan didn’t really fit in anywhere. Both were coveted by powerful females for different reasons.

Annoyed as I could choose to be that Auslan had opted to downplay his familiarity with Shyntre, I knew that if I were in his place, I couldn’t imagine volunteering that information for nothing. Auslan was also trying to counsel the mage to be more open to my advances. I wasn’t sure whether I liked that or not. Wouldn’t it cut the hunt short and…?

Quite possibly make me less interested in pursuing him. That may have been true, if I hadn’t overheard parts of this conversation. Now, knowing the reason in advance if Shyntre suddenly did become more pliable, he and I could have a very interesting conversation of our own. Shyntre wasn’t that good of an actor, not like Auslan. He wouldn’t be able to fake it. I smiled. I wasn’t worried.

This actually made me feel even more intrigued. Both Kerse and Shyntre being at my trials and having a connection with Wilsira made sense; that had not been luck. D’Shea, if not Rausery as well, had started this when they’d sent Qivni to collect me, because they’d chosen my challenges. Even so, I also trusted my gut that D’Shea and Wilsira did not like each other, as much as they were required to share resources at times, and I meant to find out more about that.

My finding Auslan by himself on a small farm of solitude, and his having such a surprising connection to this same group of players…*that* had been sheer luck. That had been Lolth Herself nudging at the pieces and snickering to herself.

D’Shea knew all of this, though had kept so much so close to her chest…it was almost like she was modeling herself after the Spider Queen. Know and see, but watch the webs spin wider and wrap the players tighter. Sooner or later, we’d have to cut it and start over or not being able to move.

The wizard looked around the garden now, trying to spy any possible watchers. I remained still with my cloak covering me, and his senses missed me.

“Go back…can’t stay out there….looking for the Priestess,” he said.

“Try the nursery,” Auslan smirked and turned around to leave. “Be wary.”


I opted to beat Shyntre to the nursery; I already knew where it was and he didn’t. Second floor, facing the front gate of the estate, it was a circle of interconnected rooms built to contain and protect everything a young Drow might need for the first years of life: reverie, food, cleanliness, education, entertainment, points of curiosity and beauty.

Ideally, the young of Nobility could be sequestered until their talents and potential became more obvious, and their learned behavior determined how soon they may be let out to wander farther afield with a governor or perhaps even their sire, or to meet guests and be in the presence of their Matron.

The nursery wing did have plenty of windows facing the front of the estate, though, and those inside could often be seen watching what went on outside. Only the extremely ignorant took care of any of their more discreet business in the front of any estate, where young eyes would always be.

The Itlaun nursery did contain one Drow child at the moment, a male much younger than his two pregnant sisters, and perhaps the Matron’s final attempt at birthing a third daughter without more potent, magical assistance. I’d learned his name was Grelio, but because of his seeming to be an ordinary, fairly obedient Noble son, I hadn’t seen much reason to watch him very closely.

I was therefore surprised to hear a subtle shuffle that led me to spot him now, folded into a tiny ball beneath on of the decorative tables in the hallway. His eyes grew very round when I kneeled down and peered at him. He was reacting at least to my weapons and the uniform, even if he did not necessarily know their significance.

Or maybe he did. The stories started early sometimes.

*Outside your nursery, boy?* I signed. *Why?*

*Demon… came in,* he answered hesitantly, one hand moving in unpracticed but understandable sign. *Woke…sneak out. No saw me.*

Impressive survival instinct, avoiding the Draegloth and staying so quiet. Grelio might actually have a chance for adulthood.

I nodded and signed back. *Only a demon? Anyone else?*

*Priestess,* he answered and hesitated.



Excellent. I smiled at him. *Good boy. Stay here until they leave. If a wizard comes by, hide from him as well.*

He nodded, needing no further persuasion on that.

There were at least five different bedroom rooms, all on the small side but small ones didn’t tend to need as much space. Grelio’s room—the one with the unmade bed and a warmer scent—was wide open, and I walked through it leading to a small washroom, another empty room (though being prepared for newcomers), a miniature kitchen, and a third bedroom. Then I finally felt the itch at the edge of my senses; it was the fourth bedroom that was warded.

Frankly, if I’d known Wilsira would be so long occupied, I might have stayed and spoken with Auslan more…although then I wouldn’t have discovered the alteration on the pendant now back around my neck, nor would I have been able to watch Shyntre shove Auslan as they talked to each other. Always a trade, it seemed.

As I reached out carefully for the door handle, I clearly felt the discouragement of the ward—and it was powerful. For a moment I wanted very much to walk away and not touch that door. I heard nothing at all, this fourth bedroom was no doubt empty, I was wasting my time…

Ah, but the pain that began to seep through my glove as I rested my fingers on the handle told me otherwise. Go away? I think not.

For now, my bracers helped protect me from most ill effects of wards, helped me see through the glamour that willed my departure, or the suggestion of pain in breaking the boundary. The magic of wards involved fooling the senses or tricking the mind; all Drow wards depended on overcoming the willpower of the intruder. That was where each Red Sister aimed to excel, with heightened senses and the willpower and endurance to surprise even the high ranking Priestesses.

With further teaching and experience, I knew I would gradually enhance my resistance to wards in general to the point where I could get into a room warded like this stark naked if need be. Alas, for right now, I needed the bracers. I’d already seen how Rausery was with offering powerful tools only to take them away and see how a Sister did when suddenly left without. Sooner or later I’d be tested on that, but I didn’t fear that time. How else was I to achieve levels of mastery like my Leads and Elders?

This ward suggested more pain than any other I’d run into so far when I turned the handle and I began to tremble as I set my jaw and struggled to breathe slower.

No. Not real. The pain wasn’t physical and was only as damaging to my mind as I let it be. My eyes scanned the tiny whorls and slashes on my bracers as I searched for the right combination of runes to bend the magic around me without dissipating it, and thus warning Wilsirathon I was about to enter.

Six individual symbols began to glow subtly between my right and left arm. I touched them in deliberate sequence: claw, net, stone, void, water, arch…

I turned the handle silently and pushed it open a crack. Nothing sounded, either in my head telling me I’d broken the magic or inside as if someone was startled. I saw no one in the nursery room by way of the crack so had no choice but to open it wider and peek around the edge to take in as much information as I could in the few seconds I had.

Kerse crouched in the far corner, his elbows resting on his thighs and his fingers interlaced. He was concentrating on his dam and Curgia and for the moment didn’t sense me. He would if I passed completely through the ward, though, never mind simply being able to watch me enter.

I would have to pass all the way through, of course; I couldn’t maintain this moment of limbo, kneeling in the center of a ward. The next second, I switched my gaze to the two Drow seemingly resting on a plush nursing couch, neatly surrounded by four candles. They were in the oddest position.

Curgia sat on Wilsira’s lap with her back flush against the Priestess’s chest, her legs open wide and feet barely touching the floor, nearly all of it covered by the full skirt of her gown. Wilsira sat with her back straight on the couch, her arms wrapped around the Noble and her bejeweled hands pressed flat against her rounded belly. Her own legs were hinted to be on the inside of Curgia’s; I could make out the jut of her knees through Curgia’s skirt, and her slippered toes were poking out of her robes, flat on the carpet.

Both of them had their eyes closed, and the pregnant Drow shivered and trembled, the rate and shudder of her breath mimicking either ecstasy or agony, I wasn’t sure. Wilsira was still, her expression one of deep concentration.

I saw some symbolism in their position. Eight limbs, four eyes, swollen abdomen…maybe the spider motif wasn’t intentional, but it was appropriate.

I was walking in on a ritual of some kind, I could see that much. I had the chance to back out with none the wiser, but I had to choose immediately: in or out?

Stay out and let Wilsira think I could not break her wards? Go in and prove beyond doubt I could perform my function as a Red Sister? Potentially force Wilsira to attack, or to lie, or something else unanticipated? Or back out and wait without rocking the boat, let her remain in control?

I went in. Wilsira no doubt already had a lie in place, as she always did. Better to force her to try it while not feeling safe and mentally prepared.

Kerse looked at me as I quietly closed the door and his eyes widened a little. I smiled and touched my index finger to my lips. I stood guard and watched, as I was supposed to; the ward was not painful on this side of the door.

The Draegloth look uncertain what do to as he looked between me and his dam. He did not want to disturb her, I could see, but still thought he should. I let him ponder this quandary on his own. I wouldn’t very well try to direct him when I didn’t know which would be better for him, or for me. Better he showed me more of his own hand, if possible.

Ultimately, Kerse chose a deliberate compromise: he crawled quietly across the room on feet and knuckles and moved in between me and his mother. His body blocked nearly all my view of the two female Drow on the nursing couch, and he was equidistant between us—neither threatening me nor interrupting the Priestess’s work. He was not within physical reach of either of us.

I felt irritated that I couldn’t see anything and tried a few careful steps to one side to see around him, but as I expected, Kerse shifted with me and kept his eyes pinned on me. Presumably he would continue to shift until either I got close enough to touch or one of us interrupted Wilsirathon. I sighed inwardly and resolved to wait this out to its natural conclusion.

Even not being able to see, I could hear Curgia quite well when she became distressed a short time later. She began protesting in a drunken murmur, gasping for more air; bodies shifted against fine cloth and upholstery, and the heat in the room picked up considerably.

“Please…please…no!” she cried, though it sounded more like she was talking in reverie, confused, her mind not entirely in the waking world.

Kerse didn’t look away from me when the noise began; he hadn’t all this time. He was an excellent guard. I did nothing to threaten him and tried to take note of everything that happened instead.

Soon I sensed the too-familiar taste of divine magic, now like an overly pungent and spicy spirit filling my nose, building pressure behind my eyes and causing me to wait in apprehension for that first clutch of arousal as magical residue diffused through me…

Over the next several moments, however, I grew accustomed to that potency, and the anticipated clutch of heat in my gut didn’t come. For that I was grateful. The Draegloth had tilted his head inquiringly by the time I realized he had been watching my face and the discomfort I’d likely shown as the magic choked the air. I could do little but smile back.

Curgia still moaned but no longer formed actual words, and Wilsira had begun chanting under her breath. It wasn’t in the Drow language; it sounded at once like the hissing of snakes and the blackest of curses rising as harsh echoes out of a deep earth chasm.

Abyssal. It had to be…and thinking now, it was not altogether unlike what I’d heard Qivni speak in order to send Kerse away from me at the worship ball. The undercurrent was also in Kerse’s own Drow speech, subtle but ever-present.

The chant crackled along my nerves and sent a shiver down my spine, and I heard the Draegloth chuckle, very briefly. He wasn’t smiling when I looked directly at him, though; he was breathing faster, more deeply. He shifted and champed his teeth briefly, physically responding to the rising surge of magic in the room—yes, I did see a change in tension behind his green loincloth, but his mane also began to stand up more and his muscles looked pumped and heated up as if he’d been lifting heavy objects for over a mark of the candle.


It may have been a little late, but I quaffed one of my own prevention vials right then and there. It wasn’t an invitation for him—I would take great pains to avoid coupling in this nursery—but I was in a close, warded space witnessing a ritual I didn’t understand and didn’t mean to leave now. I simply had to be prepared for the possibility that the Draegloth may try to capture me under the influence of magic, might try to use force… and might succeed.

Kerse was huffing softly, flexing his hands and periodically dragging claws across the carpet, his shoulders slowly weaving. I could even sense his magic growing…or, no, wait…. After some concentration, I realized it was a loop, fed to him and back to his mother then back to him again. What Auslan had said about a Priestess losing her son to execution and what happened to her power…this supported it. I witnessed now to how the demonic half-breed amplified the Priestess’s magic.

I could see very well how it would hurt her to lose him, beyond the emotional attachment she already had. Her magic would be crippled; a part of her ripped out and gone forever. Wilsira may very well go insane from the shock… And I’d be lucky to survive another few years if she decided the fault was all mine… She wouldn’t have as much to lose at that point, would she? Making her all the more dangerous if she still remained a Priestess.

If Kerse ever died or was destroyed…Wilsirathon would have to die as well, and soon after, if I stood any chance of survival myself. My Elders might have to be willing to come against the Priesthood to in order to keep me.

How much confrontation would I be worth? Did they ever give up a Red Sister to a Priestess for sacrifice?

I didn’t know the answer right then. They’d given me to Lelinahdara, but that was to force me to face my last remaining demon so they could take possession of me, of my body, my mind, my loyalty… I represented an investment to them, but only a recent one.

Maybe it would all depend on how well I handled what information I got from this trip. Start a campaign to seek Kerse’s execution only to cripple Wilsirathon and weaken her? She would definitely know who was responsible then, it wouldn’t be just her own obsession that ruined her son for her.

Try instead to preserve his life a little longer until…until what? Until she found a way to requisition my service again? Actually keep secrets on the Priestess’s behalf and hope something else happened? Wait for her to make her own mistakes that bring her down, and build my own protection in the meantime?

I needed to talk to D’Shea…by Lolth’s tits, I probably needed *her,* her position and her status. I might need her protection, the way Shyntre had wanted protection but never found in anybody…

I stood in that nursery room, buffeted by magic but not understanding its purpose, too close to danger without any good retreat, watching for the moment Kerse changed his mind about guarding Wilsira. It might not happen, but it could and I had to be ready.

As the Draegloth grew more agitated and more aroused by the magic, however, I doubted that it was a good idea to just let him snap. I wasn’t afraid to direct him, was I? To approach him first and choose the interaction rather than only reacting, having it forced upon me? I’d done it before, in the blissful ignorance of my trials…

Except that he could turn on me—he had before with his mother watching—and the potion I’d taken only a short time ago wouldn’t have its full effect yet. Drawing this out had its benefit…but so did taking control before he took action himself, before things became even more feverish.

I had no idea what Wilsirathon was even doing to that poor Noble.

If I were to interrupt the ritual somehow by coaxing Kerse’s release when I chose, rather than his mother…? What then? Or would I just get trapped in the magic and be unable to make my own choices until it was over?

….so yes, I supposed I was a little afraid to approach the Draegloth. Too many unknowns for me, and I could fail pretty spectacularly right now from sheer lack of knowledge.

The chanting continued, as did the whispers at the edges of shadows. I suddenly felt a tight ball of vibration against my chest and reached to touch the spot, remembering the pendant. I didn’t tug it out—I didn’t want even Kerse seeing it and possibly recognizing it, now or later—but I took a quick peek down the front of my shirt and could tell it was glowing again.

Glowing again. Why? Now what?

*How does one know what crossed over…?*

Kerse bared his teeth and hissed, blazing yellow eyes still on me.

*Only when we face it on the other side.*

Part of my only reverie on this trip inexplicably returned only to add to my confusion, and it was then that I heard a new voice in the room, ready to make it worse. It was disembodied, low in volume but not in tenor, with a purity of thought and clarity that was hard to imagine coming from a true throat, formed with a spongy tongue and stretching lips. It was like when Lana and I were mind-linked; no words but pure thought and emotion… although there was very little emotion here. It was thought only; empirical, hollow…

*…Unusual. An interlink we did not infer…*

It said only that, or…that was all I heard. Then it disappeared, whatever tenuous connection there had been severed like a spider’s silken thread. The vibration of the sapphire beneath my clothing ceased at the same time.

What in the Abyss….?

Kerse was shaking his head as if trying to clear water from his ears. Then he looked at me and took a step forward, finally breaking his guard. He lifted a large, clawed hand to reach for me. He never looked back at Wilsira and Curgia, still in their trance.

Right. Something had changed. So now I had to react…yes or no?

Intuition. I reached out to take his hand like it wasn’t twice as large and more beastial than mine, pulling myself forward and wrapping my arms tightly around his middle without hesitation. The half-breed made a surprised, inquisitive sound but he took no forceful action.

His large hands started to touch and caress my back through my cloak, though he paused when I reached to touch the ridge visible beneath his loincloth. His breath hitched to a stop as I fished his member out, then he purred as I stroked him with my soft leather glove. After a slight delay, I could feel the heat of him reach my hand.

“Easy, Kerse, that’s it,” I cooed, alternating between longer, slower caresses and shorter, brisker tugging. “That’s a good boy.”

It was almost cute the way he trembled and nodded his head with his eyes closed, occasionally sucking in breath and spit to avoid drooling on me. Considerate.

I was closer to the Priestess and had the chance to turn us slightly as Kerse was focused on the pleasure I gave him. The magic was thick around all of us, making even the task of breathing seem labored.

Curgia was writhing now, sweat sheening on her forehead and face and neck, trickling down between her breasts. Her teeth were gritted and her hands now gripped Wilsilra’s wrists hard, her nails digging in and soon to draw blood. I finally tossed out the ecstasy idea; it may have started out that way, but whatever was happening now couldn’t be good for her condition. She was in unending pain.

I didn’t know whether I could stop it or not, or whether I should. I was supposed to learn of Wilsira’s plans, not interfere with them…

…oh, except that I already had, hadn’t I? Plenty of times, starting with talking to Curgia in the garden in the first place, telling her what I thought I knew of the Priestess’s motives.

Except we—D’Shea and I—had been wrong this time.

Could I justify a reason why Curgia should live? Or should she simply meet her fate having made her deals with a particularly ruthless Priestess?

“What’s happening, Kerse?” I murmured.

He rumbled without opening his eyes; I still caressed him but it was more teasing now, drawing it out until he answered me. I asked one more time when he protested my slow pace, and he formed a vocal response.


“What about names?”

He hissed through teeth and his hips thrust at me, a demand for harder strokes. I gave it to him, then slowed down again.


He growled shortly, “Pllannar.”

“Planar names?”

He nodded, and I gave a little twist to my handjob to vary the sensation this time. By all accounts, he liked it, and I kept him content while I could think.

Planar names. Such as Kerse’s real name…the one that bound him to her, here and now. The one that bound all Draegloth to their mothers, and the reason why he couldn’t leave despite being half demon and more magical by nature than even his mother.

Funny that it hadn’t occurred to me before now that Curgia’s offspring might have one of those planar names…

“She wants a new name?” I guessed, trying to keep it simple.

He nodded once, opening his eyes halfway and lifting his upper lip slightly in a subtle snarl. He didn’t like the possibility of her gaining a new name.

Neither would D’Shea, I knew.

Okay, yes. Now I could justify my interference.

I went down to one knee and, still stroking him, began sucking as well, lavishing my lips and tongue in tandem with my gloved hand over the ridged, musky erection. Kerse growled in delight and grabbed my braids while thrusting his hips forward. I was prepared for the action, but only just.

His cock was one able to be pointed toward the floor without damaging him, and I did this now so I could rise from beneath with my chin up and my throat open. I could take more of him than I ever had before, letting the pointed tip just begin to squeeze its way down my windpipe, my lips impressively close to the knot that had finally formed at the base.

Kerse watched me do this; he was practically vibrating as I coaxed him close and closer to the edge. When I gently applied pressure to his knot with my spit-moistened glove, it was enough for him. He gnashed his teeth, huffed deeply, and began spurting down my throat.

I could have held my breath a little longer, swallowed a bit more of his seed, except that I heard the Priestess cry out as the pregnant Noble screamed shrilly. I knew immediately the magic had been disrupted.

Wait…disrupted by deep throating? Or the Draegloth’s release…?

Kerse had jumped back from me at the twin female shrieks; not far, but enough to withdraw out of my mouth entirely and start painting my face with his semen as he continued squirting his creamy fluid.

“Fuck!” I cursed, trying to aim his rod away and wipe at one stinging eye.

He whimpered and reached to close his hand over mine to keep stroking. More semen lanced and splattered over my forearm, my thigh, my shoulder—my red armor, of course.

The Draegloth didn’t have the luxury of a long and drawn-out orgasm as he had when locked inside my body. This time, with the magic quickly dissipating and the two on the nursing couch finally becoming aware, he squeezed out his ejaculate with only the handful of shots before staggering back from me, crouching lower to the ground and trembling. He kept his thighs open and his hands away from a no doubt sensitive penis, still stiff and lolling in the air with his loincloth askew.

I licked at my lips and tasted the salty fluid, looked over my hands and arms and chest and I knew there was little chance I could prevent Wilsirathon from deducing exactly what had happened. I probably had Kerse’s spunk in my hair as well. She’d catch me wiping to clean myself…but I still opted to try.

I ended up grabbing the cloth stained with my blood taken from Auslan’s room to wipe the seed from my face. The next moment I heard Curgia collapse onto the floor and Wilsira growl in frustration.

Here we go.

When I looked at her, I could tell the Priestess was still weak and disoriented. Such an abrupt end to that trance had left her blinking toward the ceiling and struggling to catch her breath.

My hand hovered over the hilt of a dagger. Lolth, it was so tempting…the first time I’d seen her weak, vulnerable…

Kerse shifted back into my vision and bared his sharp teeth at me, warning me not to even try.

Right. He still remembered which side of his meal had the glaze. Never mind him leaving *his* glaze on my face. My eye still stung a bit.

I sighed and moved my hand farther away from the dagger, tucking away the stained cloth, and looked at Curgia instead. She was lying on her side and clutching her belly, her whole body tense with what seemed to be physical pain…or was it residual stress from the ritual?

I moved over to her and knelt, checking her pulse—which was racing—and her breathing. She could only draw in air only around wet sobs of distress. She never opened her eyes, but along with the sweat on her face…I thought I saw tears dripping out.

“…help,” she whimpered, not even knowing who was over her.

Her legs shifted, and that was when I saw the clear fluid mixed with blood now soaking her skirts.

Wilsira drew in a haggard breath and, as I felt her eyes land on me, she growled again. “Sira-”

“She’s miscarrying,” I interrupted the Priestess with a hard edge to my voice.

Certainly I didn’t want my name to be given away so stupidly, whether Curgia would realize it or not, but it was more the fact that the Noble was now in one of those rare places within our society: no one was to take advantage of her vulnerable state while she dealt with the passing of young through her body and the immediate weakness following it. Whether or not that young lived was beside the point; for the next few cycles at least, the mother was untouchable.

That was not to say it would be the same for me. I hadn’t realized it would be so easy to wreck Wilslira’s ritual. Well…only so easy as if there was any other Drow in the Underdark who could have coaxed a Priestess’s Draegloth to cum in the middle of a divine spell, and maybe cause some hellish power feedback…

But I was only guessing.


I began to gather Curgia up to lift her off the ground; she was the best route toward distraction right now. It was far too late for the miscarriage to be of minimal risk, but too early for the unborn to be a viable birth; the Noble could easily die tonight. The baby definitely would, unless…

“Can you heal her, Priestess?”

When I finally looked at her, I had the hefty, curled body of the Noble as a type of shield between us. I think that actually worked in my favor this time, because Wilsira looked sapped of most of her energy and was watching me warily as she shook her head.

“No…I would need to… rest first.” She hadn’t wanted to admit that; she probably wouldn’t have if I weren’t carrying the Noble and had my hands full.

“You want the baby saved?”

Wilsilrathon seemed to consider, her attention turning inward toward whatever had been going on before. Then she shook her head slowly, sinking back in the couch. “No. We can’t, anyway. I lost the…”

She stopped talking, rightfully knowing not to say more. She was indeed mind-scoured and disoriented to have slipped even that much. I noticed that Kerse wasn’t looking at any of us; he was acting as if he was deaf. His loincloth had been righted.

“Release the ward on the door, Priestess,” I said. “I need to take her out.”

She shook her head and her voice was raspy. “It’s already gone.”

I started to move. With luck Wilsirathon hadn’t seen the semen on me. The door handle was more a lever that only needed to be elbowed downward to nudge the door open, much to my relief, and I came face-to-face with Shyntre on the other side.

His wide, crimson eyes caught a lot of detail; I’d have to find out what exactly later. He moved back out of my way and let me come through.


“Can you heal?” I asked brusquely.

The intelligent wizard didn’t need further description as he glanced at the still-moaning Noble clutching my cloak in a death grip at my shoulder.

“Not this kind,” he said. “I have gems, they’re indiscriminate and heal everything. Not predictable for something like this, one damaged body inside another. You need an actual healing mage with precision.”

I nodded and moved past him; he did not follow me.

It was time to wake up the Matron Italunia, though I did pause to use a non-stained part of Curgia’s shirt to make sure Kerse’s spending was completely wiped off my face before I did. I’d gotten most of it before, but just in case.

The most interesting thing to hear next, after Itlaunia had gotten over her initial shock and led me into her own quarters to set her daughter on her own bed, was what she said to the servant:

“Go wake the Consort, bring him here. Quickly.”

Her first choice of a summons was the Consort, not the Priestess?

Auslan arrived fairly soon, glancing at me with a bit of alarm that almost looked natural before he went to the bed, putting his hand on Curgia’s hot, damp forehead. Suspiciously, Shyntre knocked on the door the next moment and said the Priestess was summoning me. I had been required to leave the Matron’s room, though I had most certainly not wished to.

So interesting. Was I to assume the “pretty plaything” had some healing ability…possibly only as it pertained to fertility and pregnancies, a midwife or sorts, or perhaps he was an outright mage of the healing arts? Was that common among Consorts or specialized somehow?

*You have so many hidden talents, my Auslan.*


Wilsirathon blamed the miscarriage on me when talking to the Matron later on. Curgia was alive but had nearly bled to death trying to birth the stillborn fetus. The Matron said it was only the gift of the Consort that she was still alive and may yet heal enough to try again to breed.

“The Red Sister overheard my discussion with your daughter,” Wilsirathon murmured, only quiet enough to convince the Matron that I couldn’t hear, standing guard at the far end of the room as I was. “I finally got her to tell me who was the sire of her child. That was why the Red Sister attacked her and caused the miscarriage.”

Itlaunia had straightened up more, her thin lips pursing together. “But…the timing was right for the Consort…though I admit she wouldn’t have hidden it from me were that the case. And that twisted creature that came out of her…! Thank Lolth it didn’t live. What happened?”

Wilsira looked appropriately sympathetic. “Curgia told me she had imbibed too many spirits at the worship ball. She had been so jealous to see Tulia mount the Consort on the altar. She doesn’t remember much of it, and for a while truly believed it to have been a horrible dream. However it would seem that she did couple with a Draegloth while at Court. The proof was right there in her belly.”


The Priestess sat straight and nodded elegantly. “I will do what I can to find out which half-breed may have taken advantage like that, or whether it was a rival of mine, an intentional move against your House. The Draegloth all know the punishment is dire if they are caught, whether by direction or opportunity, so he will say nothing. I will have to find the Priestess and that may take time.”

Itlaunia had nodded. “I am grateful for your support and attention to this matter. We’ve worked hard to earn your matronage, Wilsirathon, and if this is intentional by another Priestess, then please use it as you see fit to take down your rival.”

After a mutual nod and a pause, the Matron continued, “The Red Sister…she…” She tried very hard not to glance my way. “Why did she…?”

“Why did she what?”

“Why did she crush my daughter’s abdomen and kill the creature growing there, only to carry her to my door for healing?”

Wilsirathon smiled. “It was the most painful method, and the clearest message. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Itlaunia hesitated like she wasn’t sure, but she nodded. “But…we didn’t do anything intentionally wrong…”

“Curgia kept her shameful secret and wronged you and your House in the process. The Red Sister was warning you, but it seems you are being given another chance by the Sisterhood.”

“Will we see more of them?”

“I cannot say. Only remain faithful, pay your tithes, and I will help you from Sanctuary.”

*Covering your tracks pretty damned well, Priestess,* I thought.

I sighed inwardly as I stood guard. Yes, it could be argued I’d killed the quarterbreed and started the Noble’s hemorrhage; I’d interrupted the ritual by distracting Kerse, causing the backlash of power that left all involved drained and the potential payoff unfulfilled.

But that was only the very last act. Wilsirathon had trapped the Noble into a breeding in the first place; she had coerced and intimidated and blackmailed the poor fool for over a year. She had placed the pregnant Drow on her own lap and had been doing something…something that was causing some kind of damage. The Priestess had had bloody fingernail marks in her wrists and forearms as she’d sat there, weak and recovering on the couch. Curgia had been trying to fight her.

If I hadn’t interrupted…I didn’t know exactly what Wilsira’s ultimate goal had been this eve, but she hadn’t gotten it and now she was making up new stories to cover it up.

I was letting her because making truths known to the Nobles wasn’t part of my function. The Priestess and I still hadn’t talked alone, and she was giving me no signs what she thought had happened. She put on a confident mask for all to see and guiding the messy aftermath, controlling the damage as best she could.

“We will still be leaving early in the waking cycle,” Wilslirathon told Italunia. “I’ve been away from the Sanctuary long enough and have further reason not to delay.”

“Of course, Priestess.”

This was a relief to hear; I could see an end in sight for this. Temporary though it may prove to be before my next assignment, I wanted to return to the cloister and my Sisters. I needed sleep, sex, and and food with far less risk assumed; I needed answers, and a plan from my newest experiences. I could get none of that where I was, and time wore on me much more harshly as a result.

Granted, this would prevent any new opportunity in which to find out Kerse’s real desire, his real motivation. Whether I had wasted that opportunity already or simply did not have the knowledge and resources to gain it this time around…I had to know when to cut loose from the battle of wills before I made a fatal mistake.

Sadly, as the Priestess had said repeatedly, and as Auslan even had said to Shyntre…I was still young, and still had a lot to learn.

Nor was it time to let down my guard; now especially did the Priestess have reason to push me in ways she had not yet. She was running out of time to have me at her side, and Kerse’s own response to my leaving might see no change, or he could throw a tantrum.

Just a little longer, and we each would return to the center of our own webs.


Fortunately for me, I had never seen Wilsirathon as tired as she was after she left the Matron’s audience. The four of us were all in the same room; Shyntre was wide awake, Kerse curled up on the bed with apparent disinterest in any discussion, seeming to want rest, if not sleep. The Priestess folded herself elegantly into one of the more plush fiberstalk chairs with a cup of something spicy and warm sent from the kitchen. She watched me.

“You bypassed the ward.”

I tilted my head slightly but decided to let her ask an actual question before speaking.


There we go.

“I did not know whether you were safe, Priestess,” I responded. “For a time, I could not find you on the grounds. When I did, I could not reach you, which is against your own orders. What would you have me do?”

Her expression didn’t alter much beyond a small frown, and she didn’t seem in the mood for mental sparring and social wordplay. She had already done plenty of that with the Matron Italun while running on exhaustion. Dare I think she might actually want to be blunt for one conversation?

Wilisra looked at Kerse then back to me. “After you carried Curgia out, he told me you watched after you had entered but never touched us.”

“True,” I responded.

If by “us,” the Priestess meant herself and Curgia.

“What did you see?”

A good thing for me I was still up for some verbal sidestepping. I did glance at both Kerse and Shyntre pointedly, but Wilsira acknowledged me by waving her hand as if she were bored or impatient. She didn’t care what they might hear.

Alright, so be it.

“Yourself and Curgia sitting on the couch in some trance. At one point, she became distressed and started moaning. Then she screamed and threw herself off your lap onto the floor. You became aware, and she began bleeding between her legs.”

“Succinct,” the Priestess commented, giving me a sardonic look. “Now…what did you *feel*?”

“Divine magic,” I shrugged, “filling the room. Only when Curgia screamed had it been disrupted.”

“What do you think disrupted it?”

Kerse was still and he wasn’t making a sound. Shyntre likewise was trying to make himself smaller in his chair; I think he would have left if he could have. He didn’t want to hear this. The only reason I could gather than he was here was simply that he’d been standing outside the door when I’d come through with the Noble, and thus was a witness anyway.

I smiled wryly. Time to drop the burst. “There was another presence in the room for half a moment. I think that was what disrupted it.”

Wilsira sat up straighter looking more alert now, and Kerse gave me a fleeting, bewildered look. Shyntre looked intrigued in spite of himself.


At least I could be mostly certain that Kerse had not told her about the oral sex.

“In my training, I have grown to be resilient against mental pushes,” I admitted, and I could read the Priestess clearly, confirming what I’d already suspected: she had tried her own mental pushes and was only minimally satisfied with her success.

“Are you,” she said flatly, not a question. “A bit early in your training, isn’t it?”

I smiled and didn’t answer her. “There was another voice in that room. It was like a mental push, although it was just observing.”

If I had to guess from Kerse’s lack of reaction, I could say he hadn’t heard the voice. That was a good thing. The Draegloth could think that I was just spinning a tale to cover up what had actually happened, but in truth I had given her something completely true, as far as my senses could perceive. It was impossible to prove and would draw further attention from Kerse. Much better to feed paranoia and lead with a few red spiders. Besides, I might learn something.

“Telepathy?” Wilsira asked.

I shrugged. “There is more than one way to throw your voice, isn’t there? Could have been a magical message.”

She shook her head. “You would recognize those even at this point, Sirana. Now give me your real opinion.”

I shifted my weight trying to look relaxed as possible. “My opinion is that it was psionic. But only my opinion.”

“What did it say?” she asked, taking a casual sip of her cup though her free hand squeezed the arm of her chair more tightly.

“It didn’t exactly say anything. It thought. I believe I understood that it considered something happening in that room to be a first, or at least something unusual.”

I kept my gaze on her as an unspoken question. The Priestess glanced at Shyntre; only now she wished him gone. Glad I was for that. I could presume that the ritual with Curgia wasn’t a routine occurrence at all. She had the choice now to continue questioning me, maybe send him away first.

“You have an idea what was watching?” I asked to distract her from the wizard. Not many times would she be this tired and I would take advantage the same way she’d taken advantage of me.

Yes. There it was, the way her eyes shifted and that change in her breathing. She at least had an idea who it might’ve been. Neither of the males would have seen it as she faced mostly away from them.

She shook her head. “No, I do not.”

“No? That’s rather disturbing, isn’t it, Priestess?” I asked.

She agreed with a nod. “I may have to ask your Elders to send you to the Sanctuary at a later time. They will not like the breach of security and you may know more than you think. I will be rested and will have researched the proper spell by then. Really, I’m impressed you could sense it, Sirana.”

Son of a motherfucking drider! I’d just given her that next move, further reason to ask for me!

I caught Shyntre slowly shaking his head in the background and frowned his way a moment.

*Careful, you, or I’ll take out my frustration on your backside…*

I breathed out slowly and nodded. “I may have something for you before then. The Sisterhood is not without its own resources in that regard.”

Wilslira’s mouth tightened in what was supposed to be a smile. “Well…if that’s the case, I would only trust you yourself to bring me that information personally.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “You know I take my orders from the Sisters, Priestess, not you.”

She smiled, then, a thoughtful and patient kind of smile which I did not find reassuring in the slightest. “Of course.”

Dung, and double dung. The solitary achievement I’d managed against an exhausted Wilsirathon—assuming it was even a good thing—was that she still had no thoughts that Kerse was hiding things from her regarding me, and I still had the bloodstone. But perhaps this had been at the expense of my own future safety. Only an Elder who might actually tell me a damned thing or two could help my situation.

The Priestess slept deeply, and Kerse would do nothing but stand guard while sneaking glances of dislike toward the wizard. Shyntre found a lot of excused to be in the wash room. It was a long wait for the waking hour.

I couldn’t wait to get away from this threesome.


Auslan wasn’t present when we left on the final leg of our journey early the next cycle. It was truly a pity; I would have liked to see his face one more time. He was the only genuine delight I’d experienced on this thorny nest of a journey.

I was glad, however, to be riding a lizard alongside the carriage again. Shyntre could deal with sharing close space with Kerse for once; I’d had more than my share. I stayed out of easy speaking distance of the carriage, glad for the lack of voices as most of what I heard was the clop-scrape of the Uroans’ feet and the roll of the wheels.

As when I’d been riding back from House Itlaun, frustrated and aroused after my kiss with the Consort, we passed by the Tower before continuing toward the Palace and the cloister. Shyntre was released from his service first; he remembered to bow to the Priestess and me each in turn, mumbling his formal valedictions before he left gladly, hefting the single pack he’d brought with him from the back of the carriage and walking quickly toward his usual home. He didn’t look back.

I was close enough to the carriage for Wilsira to comment. She was vague in her word choice as the driver was still within earshot but I got the message.

“Here I thought I would be doing you a favor bringing him, in case you still didn’t know,” she said, and sighed. “I knew on first meeting you had figured that out a while ago.”

I gave her a look but then smiled. “If you still felt the need for a favor, you could tell me why he bothered to hide in the first place.”

The Priestess returned my smile. “Oh…I don’t know for certain, but I’d wager he asked your Elder for the right. She commanded him, of course, and he knows what often happens next if the one becomes as you became. He wanted to avoid the consequences of carrying out his orders.” She chuckled. “It did not seem to make a difference, did it? You still found him…but you haven’t claimed him yet. You are enjoying the hunt?”

I shrugged. “I suppose I am.”

“Poor boy,” the Priestess said, the amused curve of her mouth visible even in the shadow of her carriage. “He can’t help but resist you. If he had taken my advice all those years ago, it may have been that the Sisterhood would not have shown any interest in him and he would have remained a servant to the Sanctuary. As it is now…he is more yours than mine. He’s extraordinary with his mouth, and I didn’t teach him all that.”

“Hm,” I said in as flat a tone as I could manage. I knew getting so interested so quickly was a mistake but it was hard not to want more. “What advice was that?”

“Oh,” she smiled wider as she leaned back in her seat. “I think I’ll let him tell you.”


I saw the carriage and its passengers safely to the Sanctuary, and despite all that had happened, Wilirathon did not try for any last-moment bonding or secret-sharing or whatnot. She was formal in her thanks to me and to the Sisterhood, in bidding me safe passage back to my Elders, and very different in her body language now that other Priestesses and their eyes could see her.

Kerse likewise behaved very well; one could almost believe he had gotten his fill of me and, like all the other Draegloth, had finally forgotten the distraction and was again wholly devoted to his mother.

Wouldn’t it be somehow better for me if that was the case? Indeed, wasn’t I just taking Auslan’s word that Kerse’s behavior was truly that far outside the norm? Perhaps he was wrong…

Except then I would have to discount D’Shea’s misgivings, my own instincts, and everything Kerse had done that seemed without his dam’s knowledge. No. The Draegloth was still a dragon-sized pile of trouble ready to bring as much attention from the Priesthood down on me as Shyntre seemed to have drawn from the Sisterhood. And I didn’t thank either him or my wandering thoughts for the comparison.

The last bit of information I gleaned before I left was knowing that neither the Priestess nor the Draegloth wanted to demonstrate the bodily familiarity that new sexual partners sometimes expressed. I supposed I could thank them for that.

My thoughts and mind kept going but felt somehow more numb as I made my way back to the Sisterhood’s cloister on foot. The lizard mount wasn’t from our stables and on foot was how I’d first arrived that time a long five cycles ago. Thank Lolth it hadn’t been extended beyond the five, but…

I realized the numbness was having more to do with my lack of sleep for all that time. One rest period, cradled by a warm demonbred, and that was it. I wondered whether D’Shea would demand full reports first, or if I might rest and eat first? Would I ask for one over the other?

I’d gone beneath a rocky surface to reach one of the hidden entrances, only just passing the ward and opening the door when someone grabbed my shoulder and I actually made a startled sound, throwing myself back and drawing a dagger.

“Sirana!” Gaelan scowled at me. “Don’t you threaten me!”

Oh, Lolth fuck me sideways… I hadn’t seen my roommate since I’d ridden her ass with her own Feldeu and then stole it afterward… I’d known she’d faced some trouble with our Elder, but D’Shea had kept us apart as she gave me that fast training for the Sanctuary and then sent me to Wilsirathon.

I sheathed the dagger and shrugged with a decidedly fatigued slant to my shoulders. “Not my intent, Gaelan. You startled me. What would you expect?”

She wasn’t happy to see me—I wouldn’t have expected her to be—but she said nothing and took my arm and tried to lead me farther down the hall. I resisted.

“D’Shea’s not here yet but I’ve been put on watch to wait for you,” she snapped. “We’re going to her quarters. Don’t fight and don’t talk, understand?”

Given that we still had that agreement for her to be the dominant one in sight of the other Sisters, I acquiesced and soon found myself shoved into D’Shea’s quarters for the first time in her absence. Impressively, Gaelan had been able to get in.

So something had changed in my absence.

“Start stripping and give me each piece as you take it off,” she ordered.

I quirked one eyebrow but did not move, and she folded her arms.

“Like when you came back from the Hunt for Jael. Everything you have on you is evidence. I’ve been given instruction to have you prepared and your possessions laid out for when she gets here.”

“Oh, you have?” I asked skeptically.

Gaelan nodded once, curtly. “Thanks to you. And no, I no longer have my own Feldeu, nor even one being borrowed, so I won’t be able to bang your twat the way I want to, even if that wouldn’t be destroying any evidence on your body. I can’t touch you, alright? Now strip!”

I muttered a curse under my breath and started removing everything a piece at a time, handing it to her to inspect as I did so. She wasn’t in a talkative mood after her outburst, so I just watched her face during this process. Mostly she was angry with me, but my gut told me it was not permanent—I had not just made a deadly enemy. A couple of times, that anger slid into another expression I didn’t see very often. It was…offended? No. Insulted…no.


Of course. I’d betrayed her attachment to me…and I even felt some regret for doing so. It had worked in my favor, and though I hadn’t planned on it—pure impulse to take her Feldeu—I would probably do it again. However, it remained that she’d paid a price for my success.

This was what I had thought we both understood about the natural order, that I would step on her back one day to climb over her—and she’d known it would happen. She’d known her place.

So why look injured?

Gaelan was distracted and did not seem to glean as much out of my pieces as D’Shea might have, but she blinked at finding the bloodstone in one of my pouches, and her mouth opened a little when she saw Shyntre’s pendant around my neck when I revealed naked breasts.

“What…where did you get that?”

I took it off slowly and handed it out to her, the final adornment before I was completely nude. “The wizard from my trials. He gave it to me.”

Her face screwed up in confusion. “No…he wouldn’t have.”

“He did.”

“You took it.”

I smiled. “Not this time. You know what it is?”

She gave me that vacant look I’d grown to recognize as her throat closed on itself a moment. She couldn’t answer me due to the compulsion. She didn’t even try.

But now I knew Shyntre and D’Shea definitely knew each other. One of many questions was: How well?

Gaelan put the necklace down with my other items and helped unplait and smooth out my braids so that my hair was loose down my back. Then she took a deep breath as she picked up a small purple jar from D’Shea’s shelves. Unscrewing the lid, she dipped her gloved finger into some kind of glittering powder and touched it to her tongue. Letting it dissolve a few seconds in her mouth as she put the jar back, she began looking me over carefully. I watched her warily until she stepped directly behind me and I couldn’t see her anymore.

“Look straight ahead,” she ordered.

I heard her remove her gloves then felt cool, dry hands on the back of my neck. Slowly they moved lightly over my skin, my back, my shoulders and arms, almost tickling until she touched my breasts and the nipples grew hard. She ignored that and kept going down my ribs, my stomach, my flanks and hips. She inspected my legs and buttocks and feet before she lifted a hand back up to my mouth and nudged her finger inside.

“Umngh,” I mumbled and she shushed me as she pressed her index finger onto my tongue.

Gaelan chanted something quietly a few times, and went she removed her finger it shimmered very slightly in iridescent blue. I had no idea what it meant, but she repeated it after moving her hand between my legs with all familiarity, inserting her middle finger into my sex. I sucked in my breath, and her finger again shone a brighter blue when she removed it. Like the first, the color faded within a few seconds.

“What are you—” Though as she moved around behind me again, I already figured.

“Last time, Sirana,” she murmured, and I could almost say she sounded aroused.

I arched my back a little and relaxed to make the probing of my netherhole tolerable; for whatever reason, all these probes had been dry—she hadn’t so much as licked her finger before pressing it in and used a different one each time.

I glimpsed the same blue color again for a few moments before it faded as Gaelan went over to a table to pour water from a pitcher into a washbowl to cleanse her hands.

“What were you doing, Gaelan?” I asked.

“I told you, preparing you for D’Shea,” she said without looking at me.

After a pause, I asked, “Are you a mage?”

Her shoulders tensed then lowered again.

“More a familiar,” she said quietly. “You remember how I stayed behind when you went to battle the Illithids?”

“Yes,” I said. “Lelinahdara said she needed a conduit with experience.”

Her back still to me, Gaelan lifted her wet hand in the air as if volunteering for some mission. “That’s me.”

“Meaning what? What’s a conduit?”

She sighed softly, reaching for a towel to dry her hands. She turned around to look at me. “It means I’m a useful tool, like you are, except you get to go outside more.”

Gaelan was being obtuse with intention, but rather than getting annoyed with her I considered what I’d seen before. Lelinahdara with her hands on Gaelan’s shoulders, D’Shea was nearby. I knew they had been responsible for the magical communication between all the Red Sisters during the most recent battle with the Illithids but I’d only ever heard D’Shea’s mental voice. In the afterglow of the battle, a horny Jaunda had wanted to put me beneath her immediately, but D’Shea had claimed me instead, handing our Lead the “conduit” Gaelan instead…

…who had been drunk on magic, lethargic, aroused and pliable.

I couldn’t have known it before, but if I had to guess, it was not unlike the effects of the incense Wilsirathon had used on me, and not unlike the arousal I’d witnessed in Kerse as he served as the magical feedback loop during that Abyssal ritual. His sexual release had wrecked it.

I blinked at my roommate, who’d now come closer to me, her face set firmly.

“You can channel magic, strengthen or stabilize it,” I guessed. From the surprised look on her face, it was a very good guess. “But yet…you’re not a mage, Gaelan?”

“A minor one,” she said tightly. “A stronger mage can use a weaker one as a conduit. You’re lucky you only have Nobles’ inborn abilities but no stronger magic, Sirana. With D’Shea as your Elder…you’re more lucky than you know.”

Gaelan moved over to busy herself neatening my possessions on the long wooden table on the left, and I let it be quiet between us as I considered these things. Gaelan and Kerse had something in common: being used for the magical boost they give to a more powerful will, kept close at hand to their respective mistresses. Both were fairly unhappy about it…because they wanted…what? They look at me and want what I have? Which was what?

*…you get to go outside more.*

Meanwhile, those same powerful wills wanted me for their own reasons. Gaelan still did not know about the Duergar which had left a smear of himself on my mind, or about the…odd things that were happening to me because of it. D’Shea did, though, and….dung. Wilsirathon was starting to get an idea of it as well. She knew I was growing resistant to spells that affected the mind or will, and she knew I’d heard a telepathic voice.

Then there was Shyntre…also known to D’Shea, also very, very magical.

*…he is more yours than mine.*

What good would it do me to let Gaelan continue to think that I was in any better place than she was? Watching the different males on this last trip helped put some of these things into perspective.

I cleared my throat, waited, then cleared it again and waited until Gaelan finally turned around to look at me. “My apologies for taking your Feldeu just as our Elder was giving you more lead. I did not know before…and I did not mean to ruin those plans for you.”

Her white brows shot up high on her forehead, and she again looked angry but mixed with that mournful hurt I wasn’t sure I’d seen on anyone but her.

“You owe me something for it,” she said through clenched teeth, her eyes somehow brightening. “You set me back years, Sirana, and put yourself forward. That wasn’t our agreement!”

“Nor was it our agreement to move forward at the same pace,” I said, “but I…I could only tell you that the Feldeu training was different for me than it was for you. My action was directly related to that.”

She shook her head. “So what? You hadn’t earned it but you still managed to…I don’t even know how you did it!”

“Did what?”

“D’Shea told me you not only used it to pleasure yourself and on another Sister besides me, but also tortured another race with it! All in the same fucking cycle! Is that true?”

“Well…yes. Is that unusual? Jaunda does it.”

“She’s a Lead,” Gaelan spat. “She’s had practice. What practice have you had wielding a foreign appendage?”

I frowned. “With D’Shea, quite a lot.”

My Sister shook her head again, but I understood it to be frustration rather than rejection. I saw her white teeth clenched and bared though she partly covered her face with her hand. Her entire body was tense.

“No, you haven’t. Capturing you on the Hunt and knowing your body was the best pleasure I ever had with that thing,” she said. “I have never peaked just from stroking, even if it feels good. It takes time, I’ve been told. And you managed to use it on another race…?”

Her expression betrayed some disgust which she reigned in soon after. “That takes practice as well, or an attitude like Jaunda’s. New Sisters may get lucky and dominate an older one with a Feldeu like you did, but most also have to learn to overcome their natural reservation against other races!”

In that case, I think I cheated…I knew what it was supposed to feel like with a dwarf, thanks to Kain. It was possible I would not be so easily tempted with any given third race. I kept my mouth closed on that, however, and considered that D’Shea had told Gaelan quite a bit about my Hunt for Jael, hadn’t she? That was curious.

“You claim I owe you something,” I said. “Have something in mind?”

“Your agreement never to take anything of mine ever again. Until the moment you die.”

*Or you die,* I couldn’t help but think. Either death would fulfill such terms.

When I didn’t reply immediately, she added, “And the next time we couple, you submit to me. Prove to me you aren’t just wagging your tongue with that apology.”

Next time. I half-smiled. “So it’s a foregone conclusion that we’ll couple again?”

“Yes,” she said boldly. “Even if I have to take you.”

My mouth expanded to a full grin and I chuckled; I loved the feeling of challenge that brought. Little angry Gaelan… “Could be fun.”

I thought I detected a twitch of a smile from her, but she quashed it. “Well?”

I considered. “On not taking anything of yours, I must clarify that I will if I’m formally ordered.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Meaning you can hint to a higher rank to order you to and get around our agreement,” she said flatly.

I shrugged. “I could. But I agree not to take any object of yours, Galean, nor to employ that workaround to achieve the same.”

Bright copper eyes stared into mine as she gauged my sincerity; I stared back levelly.

“And?” she prompted.

I smiled. “I’ll not make it easy…but you’re invited to try to dominate me. I’ll accept what you want to do to me for one eve if you catch my cunt with your fingers before I catch yours.”

Evidently Gaelan considered that to be enough; she even looked a bit excited at the coming fight. She nodded. “Agreed.”

The Red Sister closest to me in age and rank, my captor, my roommate…I was sure she wanted to kiss me then, or touch me, the way she looked at me. She did neither. I knew why; we were waiting for D’Shea, and we couldn’t spoil anything she might deduce from my body only just returned from Wilsirathon’s service.

It was a fairly long wait, and the tension between us increased slowly as we remained quiet and thinking our own thoughts. Gaelan’s comment about my going outside more often played with my mind more; as I recalled, I went out more with her at the beginning of my training, after I’d been tested by every Red Sister, but it had become far less and even stopped within a few months. I was being sent out on my own, and I’d assumed she was out on her own missions as well.

Perhaps that was not the case. Where was she, then, the many times I’d returned to our room to find it empty?

We both straightened up when the door slid open and Elder D’Shea came through. She was dressed in her full reds and her face was set and serious. She nodded first to Gaelan then to me as she removed her cloak to hang it up, tugging off her gloves and undoing belt to add them to the wall. She continued undressing as she walked past us father back into her room. It would seem she was changing to her comfortable mage’s robes.

“Gaelan, report,” she said simply, and her subordinate spoke as she continued to change.

My roommate’s eyes glanced briefly at me, I wasn’t sure why, but when she spoke I had an idea.

“Some bruising healed from the inside, some topical healing done on her flank, no major injuries, though.”

Ah , yes. They’d be talking about me like an object, without talking to me for the next while. It might’ve been more irritating except that I’d just spent the journey experiencing the same in all around me who tried to pretend I wasn’t there. I also found it interesting; Gaelan had been giving me an exam and I hadn’t realized it. So what did the blue glow mean when she—?

“Semen has been deposited in all three of her orifices within the last two cycles. The most recent was in her sex.”

Of course. Neat trick.

D’Shea looked at me directly and I smiled, if a little tensely, and then she looked back to Gaelan.

“She has used both of her issued prevention draughts, but possesses two others not issued to her. She carried a bloodstone not previously issued, and a blue pendant around her neck. None of her equipment is missing.” She listed it off.

I thought about the list and realized there was one thing missing…the cloth Auslan had used to tend Kerse’s claw marks. Had I dropped it?

“Hold,” D’Shea said to Gaelan, lifting her hands for her silence, and she was staring at me, had been the whole time Gaelan was talking. “What is it, Sirana? Speak.”

“I had a white, blooded cloth as well, Elder. My blood, used to tend the wound on my side. It’s not in one of my pouches?”

D’Shea looked at Gaelan, who shook her head. “No…I never found an item like that.”

My first thought was that perhaps Gaelan was still angry and had taken something of mine in return…but D’Shea walked up to her subordinate and touched her, asking exactly that. Gaelan’s response was honest; she didn’t have it.

“I figure explaining that cloth will require some context?” D’Shea asked me.

“Most definitely, Elder.”

“Which do you think mostly likely: you may have dropped it, or someone took it?”

I thought about it. I’d taken it from Auslan, put it in my pouch…I’d only pulled it out again to wipe Kerse’s fluids off my face before putting it back and picking up Curgia in that nursery room. No one had gotten close enough to take it, unless…

Well, there was the one last time Kerse had mounted me—upon waking before we were to return to the Sanctuary, the very last of our arrangement. I’d been fully naked on my back; Shyntre had watched my gear as before, Wilsira had decided to include herself and straddle my face. But…no, I’d checked my equipment after the wizard had watched it, just as always. The cloth had been there then.

“Perhaps I dropped it on the journey back, Elder,” I said. “I don’t see the opportunity for someone to take it. It would have only been a few marks ago; I had it earlier.”

“I’ll send a team out to retrace your path,” she said. “It’s unlikely…if it had blood on it, it may have been found quickly by many things, but we will try. Anything else they should know of this item?”

“Mm. Some semen stains. I used it later as well.”

D’Shea left that for the report with context as well. She plucked out a basic map from her scrolls, had me show her the path the carriage had taken, and summoned one of the teams to give them their assignment. It was done with high efficiency and the three of us were soon alone again as before.

“Alright,” D’Shea sat down to be comfortable and left Gaelan and I standing. “If you please, Sirana. Start from the beginning.”

It was one of my most difficult and convoluted recitals…if I’d thought Jael’s Hunt was bad, this was worse. It started out well enough; I’d taken D’Shea’s knowledge and advice and my time meeting the Priestess for the first time at Sanctuary went well enough. My Elder did not seem too surprised when I mentioned Shyntre had been asked to come along. She listened avidly to the details of the journey, of the tortured and poison Drow whose body I’d burned, and of arriving at House D’Verin.

She was clearly disappointed in me that the wizard had gotten the best of me and that allowed Wilisrathon to make her arguments for better protection and surprise me with Kerse. As it continued, I found that I couldn’t answer many of D’Shea’s questions, either because I hadn’t been able to trust my senses or because I hadn’t been witness to it. My Elder reprimanded me quietly on several points of the agreement—those points that I had already reflected upon and wanted to blame on some magical influence from the Priestess herself.

“That may be the case, but you see how dangerous she is now, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, Elder, I do.”

“Is Kerse the only male you coupled with? Gaelan’s magic says you took semen in your mouth and backside as well.”

I felt my face heat up. “He is, Elder. Those times were such that I did not have time to allow a prevention draught to take effect. It was necessary.”

D’Shea nodded. “I believe you. Gaelan, did your exam include a pregnancy test?”

“Um…no, Elder.”

“It is always the next step in procedure when you find semen in the birth canal,” the Elder said tightly.

Gaelan and I had begun discussing other things at the time.

“I’m sorry, Elder.”

“Do it now. As I’ve shown you.”

Gaelan approached me and got down on one knee in front of me, gently placing her right hand over my womb while holding my hip with her left. She closed her eyes and started chanting.

“Keep going, Sirana,” D’Shea ordered.

“Mm? Well—”

“Ignore Gaelan and continue your report,” she said emphatically.

“Yes, Elder.”

D’Shea listened intently to my interaction and arrangement with Shyntre, her face not betraying much besides the interest in the intrigue itself. In the middle of it, Gaelan removed her hand from my belly button and stood up, shaking her head in the negative as she moved back.

“Not right now, at least,” D’Shea commented. “We’ll test again later on. Continue.”

So I hadn’t caught while on the trip; and the only chance now was if my last potion had failed somehow. I liked my chances, and continued describing events.

There was one point where I deviated in my report; I’d already given so much lurid and intimate detail, admitted so many mistakes by then, that when I portrayed my visit with Auslan as very similar to my previous visits with him, downplaying just how inquisitive he’d been about my presence with the Priestess and never mentioning the information we’d traded…D’Shea didn’t notice. It would seem I did not give away any tells.

As a result, D’Shea knew I was extremely curious about Shyntre, but didn’t know that I knew he was birthed by someone in the Sisterhood. She also didn’t know about Auslan’s connection to the wizard. I left out the part of them talking in the garden entirely. Soon enough I reached nearly to the point where we would leave House Itlaun to return here, and my Elder called back to an earlier point.

“The Consort was able to save Curgia’s life?” D’Shea asked with some skepticism.

“Yes, Elder. Do I take it that this is unusual?”

“Not unheard of for a Consort also to be a healer, but…” She considered. “Auslan was never reported before as having the ability. This is good to know. Did you witness the process?”

“No, Elder. I was summoned by the Priestess and required to leave the room.”

“So it’s only what you overheard the Matron telling the Priestess.”

“No, Elder, you’ll recall I heard Matron Itlaun ask a servant to wake him and bring him to her. I saw him touch her forehead and he behaved like he intended to take some kind of action. This was whole marks before that conversation.”

“Of course. And you never saw the stillborn?”

“No, though I did see Matron Itlaun’s face when she referred to it. It was not pureblood, you know it wasn’t.”

“I know. But you didn’t see it dead.”

I breathed out. “No, Elder. Wilsirathon chose to interrogate me then before she fell asleep.”

“And you handled that fairly well, but for the Priestess using it as an excuse to send for you later…” She sighed. “Were you making up the reason for the disruption to prevent Wilsira from suspecting her son’s lack of control?”

I paused. “Not…to the best of my knowledge, Elder.”

D’Shea looked a bit surprised. “You are not sure.”

“I thought I felt a voice like I’ve felt before with Lana, and the wizard’s blue pendant was glowing briefly. They did happen simultaneously, and the gem was struck by a psionic attack previously.”

“That may still not mean what you think it means, Sirana.”

“I understand, Elder. But the timing was notable.”

“But with a ritual happening at the same time…” D’Shea shook her head. “It’s impossible to know for sure what happened. How certain are you that Kerse climaxing is actually what disrupted it?”

“Very certain. The voice disappeared shortly before Kerse broke his guard and reached for me, and I talked with him while pleasuring him, you recall. He said she wanted planar names. Curgia screamed and I felt the magic fall apart as Kerse’s seed spurted all over my face.”

Gaelan covered her mouth with her hand at the mental image.

“Which brings us to the cloth used to clean you up that’s now missing,” D’Shea said, tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. “What had you intended to do with it?”

I shrugged slightly. “Throw it away, eventually. I just didn’t want to leave it behind in Itlaun’s garbage.”

My Elder nodded slowly. “Generally a good idea.”

I got the feeling there was something she wasn’t saying. Again.

“The bloodstone,” she said now. “Gaelan, bring it to me.”

Gaelan did, and we both watched as D’Shea turned it over in her hand, studying it, whispering an odd word here and there, the fingernail on her thumb scraping at the specks of my blood that yet remained on it. She did not take her eyes off it even when she spoke on a different topic altogether.

“Shyntre gave the pendant back to you when he saw it had been changed,” she said quietly.

When she said nothing more, I responded with an equally quiet, “Yes, Elder.”

“What do you think of him now, Sirana?” she asked. “Given how it was the first time between you.”

I had to be very careful here. “He’s still as he was—intelligent but overburdened with anger. He resists providing answers, it makes me only more intrigued. He despises us and I would like to know why.”

“Are you asking?”

Why not?

“Yes, Elder. Why does Shyntre hate the Sisterhood so?”

My Elder smiled, her eyes still on the bloodstone. “Have you seen Jael yet, Sirana?”

That was taking an abrupt sharp turn in the discussion, wasn’t it?

“No, Elder. Is she still with the Sisterhood?”

“She is. She’d had a harder time than you, I dare say, since a few of the Sisters aren’t convinced she should have been saved. Rausery and Qivni both, however, are two of those who changed her mind, and it has made all the difference. I believe they are very pleased with her, even if she is still naked most of the time and she rages against us still.”

As much interest as this held for me, why were we suddenly discussing our newest recruit when we had been discussing the wizard from my trial…?

D’Shea’s eyes finally flicked toward me, and she was still smiling. There was a connection in the conversation that I was missing. I listened to my intuition again; how much I had learned that might suggest to me…


“The Sisterhood tested Shyntre in some way?” I asked.

I’d never actually told her that Shyntre had revealed to me he knew of the Feldeu; she’d been too annoyed with me at the time, having been surprised to hear I was at the Tower from the headmaster Phaellous himself. I had also kept back that I knew of a blood connection, just for now, until I had an opportunity to follow up with Auslan again. Then I would find a way to bring it up to her.

May 2018
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