Legends of Belariath

Eraelabryn

It takes a Spider

Within chambers, personal area of the House, those curtains rich velvets to stone. One could say if closing eyes, it was as if being within a tent of a nomadic tribe. Pillows and scents wafting upwards, strong, but nothing subtle was allowed to taint the air, not here, not in the Gloom. Eraela taking place at her table, ass rested to the pillows, sitting to eat, casual affair, as ever her slaves were commanded. Flesh bare, naked, the dance of them together, fucking for her pleasure, upon the dais created for her entertainment. Passing amusement, as she waved off the servant who brought her wine, letting the tester sip from it, and eyeing him, rather hoping he would die. For to be have an assassination attempt would mean her power was growing, would mean another female, in another set of chambers viewed her threat enough to try to kill her. But hope was a fleeting thing, at least tonight, as the taste tester wandered back to his place, kneeling beside her. Her back to the wall, as she listened to the symphony of fucking, three pairs of slaves, female to female, male to female, male to male, twisted and turned, the scent of their fucking wafting through the air, as she set about to dine.

The sounds broken by that stride, the way that Di`Ssan moved, announcing his presence, an issue of respect, for the normally silent warrior. Letting his boot steps ring out, as he strode within the Chambers, a rather curt bow of his head in her direction. “You have sent for me...” that voice showing his displeasure with being summoned, knowing well she did it only to pluck at the tense strains of their relationship. Young upstart of a Priestess, he was bound to her for only those 5 years, a summer season to be her ‘Advisor’ to turn her from a young Moriel Female, into what would be the Blessing of Kirva. Keltor’s own he was, sworn and bound, his weight tested in battle, commanding armies in the Gloom for her House, as she fought within the House to rise to placement.

The wave of her hand, not even honoring him with speech, as spoiled thing would rest back, lolling head against the wall, silver strands bathing down those shoulders, free silken tendrils, blessing the ashen satin of skin. Letting him stand as she partook of her meal, knowing well that rage that bubbled within him, taunting and teasing at it, as she directed her attention back to those writhing forms, fucking without abandon. If she were not pleased with their performance, was it not their life’s she would order taken?

Until she was finished, and then rising, that touch of her palm to Di`Ssan’s face, lavender pools floating into the golden ones of his eye. Narrowing eyes slightly at the way he showed his arrogance, how much stronger he was then her. A male, indeed, Moriel born, but proven his worth was, over and over again. Was that not why she had chosen him? Why he was sought by her, to take that placement? No better tutor then one who would need broken, and would be killed at the end of their time. Take his strength for her own, she would, at least, that was the plan. Dismissing the slaves, not allowing their release, but telling them to go and sit within the tub of ice prepared, so she could witness their howls, sex’s all engorged in lust, plunged into ice water, lust turned to pain. Beautiful song to end a dinner with, as she gestured for Di`Ssan to follow, stepping out onto the balcony. Strange sight, indeed, those porches within the Gloom.

Stone towers, within the caverns, the sky only that stone surface, night forever within the Gloom. Stars only the veins of metal, seen through stalagmites. Only here, could one speak freely, looking down to the streets, harsh stone as well, those wandering about, doing their duty to their Houses, gathering information, food, things that made the very core of House work.

The crisp coolness, refreshing to those who would never feel a breeze, never know the sky of blue, never seen the seasons, for here, within the embrace of forever night, there was none of that, merely the constant chill, the dankness, and danger within every shadow, murder in every whisper, betrayal in every touch.

It was here, upon the jutting stone cusp, that she leaned into his form, little waif like thing binding her arms upwards over his chest. Touch, of course, sinful and wicked, as she would brace herself into the very biting armor he wore. Adorned with it, detailed things, could a Moriel ever wear something that did not denote their place? Never. Fingers splaying and working upwards over his shoulders the pretense of touch, of carnal need, as she whispered to the shell of his ear. Ever unmoved he was, that slight lean to his head, allowing her words to flow from lips to his, dropping his own head, so that to an onlooker, it appeared the pleasure of the flesh they sought.

“Did you kill him?”

“Do you even need to ask? Have I not returned, my duty was done” No emotion in those tones of his, just the quiet spewing undercurrent of his loathing of her nearness.

The hint of it, the push of her hips against his own, as she twined fingers through the silver of his hair, constant movement, always touch. Greedy thing, her weakness, and one he warned her of, many times over. Not to give into the gluttony of the flesh, for flesh would garner her weak in a strike. His duties to give those words of advice, to consul, lead her astray and test her. A duty given by Gods, as was every motion of his life. Forever cursed to be a lower caste, no matter how he proved himself time and time again. Pulled once more from the battlefield to tend to the whims of a Female. Cursing his birth as he pulled back from her. “Do not seek to reward me, like a whore, Eraelabryn. Send me back to the battle field; I have served you well this night.”

Not even allowing her the pleasure of his scorn, simply stating it, not feeding that need to know she grated upon him.

“I have played your game well this eve, spider britches. Now fulfill what you promised, or I will be forced to turn against our agreement.” Casual indifference, whispered to her ear, threatening her as she pushed back against him.

“Would that I could, Di`Ssan, but it seems perhaps I wish you here. And my word is law...is it not?” Murmured softly as she stroked her thumb pads over the line of his jaw, sweet little nip to his bottom lip, ever the masking of their conversation with touch. Greedy little flickers of her tongue, as she smiled up to him, cruel little game to play. “You have not that power over me, little one, never forget that...” his answer given as he lowered head, feeding into the kiss, even as her hands dropped, toying with the clasps to armor, wanting to feel the skin beneath those layers. “Do not tempt me, Di`Ssan, you mean so little, do you not think I would cut you? Your job is what I state it is.” Cold and cruel, given in words, in voice, as she pulled back from him, releasing the very bow of his lip from her teeth. Smirking almost, as she ran hands down the line of her robes, smoothing them, before she would offer up that spitting comment. “You will be a good boy, a good Patron, and do what you are told, won’t you?” Turning, the act of it, as if he were not worth the worry. Final insult to another Moriel, no matter their sex. “I wish you near me, so it will be.” Knowing well enough how it stirred that hatred for her, how it spawned his discontent. But also knowing their placement, as she strode away, leaving him to soak it in, how with but the simplest change of plans, his life, his service would be only what she allowed it to be. Did she see the smile upon his face? Of course not, to wrapped within her own spoiled existence she was, believing in that one truth. She was the Female, and he was a pawn.

Within her bedchambers, that fitful sleep. Unable to rest, to truly fall into the land of dark dreams, the little ashen one tossing and turning. Those who guarded her sleep, biting at their lips, knowing full well the wrath of her when she would awaken. The sadistic games she would play at their cost, to sooth herself back to slumber. A bit of relief when her Chosen came within the chamber, dismissing them. He was allowed that, as her Guard, her Patron, by her own mouth, he was but an extension of her wickedness. First Male of house, anointed her Whore, until she would have him no longer. Di`Ssan’s form covered only in ebon pants, as he walked the others out, silent as he locked the door, turning to cast those golden orbs to the flesh revealed there upon crimson sheets. A tsk of his tongue, as he strode forwards, no real sound made, far to long battle trained for those maneuvers in the Glooms deep recesses.

Not a stirring of her lids, as he would slip within the bed beside her, that casual touch of his over the line of her hip, as she turned to him, rather docile in her slumber, almost to curl against him, seek the flesh his form could offer.

Quiet murmur escaping her lips, as his voice filled the half dreaming shell of her ear “Wake up bitch and see what your hand has wrought.” Quickness as eyes flew open, gazing into the golden glowering pools of his own. As quick as she could move, his hand was at her throat, that soft touch to his voice, as he taunted her. “Poor little thing, sleeping away in sloth, while her orders were being fulfilled. I wonder, Eraela, will you scream, and let them come running in, because...” his lips brushing against her temple. “Your pride would be greatly wounded, wouldn’t it? For the news in the bath house tomorrow to be how Eraelabryn was deceived, not even worthy of a Sister of House’s deception, but by her own Male...her own toy.” Her eyes widening as she looked upwards to him, the quirk of his lips that threat a horrible thing.

Masking her own unease, settling into the pretense her heart wasn’t pounding, her wrath wasn’t riled, as she tried to ease back against the pillows, the side of her leg touching his, sliding against the material of pants. Strange...though...flesh not responding to her touch...just the legs, that sleeps sensation wearing on her. Panic showing in the depths of her eyes, as he would touch the side of her cheek. “What, have you never heard of the poison one applies to skin? You should be more careful where you bite, my little viper...By the way, I regret to inform you, Jabbress that your second slave, who warmed your bed, has passed into Kirva’s hands.” Such a lilt to his voice, “It would seem his flesh was poisoned...”

Realization sinking in, as her form slowed, that reaction speed to it, as if dazed, lazy, and still sleeping. Tremble though, that she felt in her core, stomach tensing, as he would toy with her, hand running down, cupping the very flesh of her breast, harsh squeeze to mark the ashen satin of it, then that almost playful jiggle of it, weighing it like some fruit within the calloused digits. Rolling it against the palm, as he lay beside her.

“Are you scared, little one?” Whispered to her, as she tried to speak, voice harder to find, her eyes widening as he would play, tormenting skin, toying with the plane of her stomach, that sudden lift of her chin, lips parted as he would lean over, kissing the lower tier. “Shush, don’t waste your strength; it is a slow acting poison, one used for rothes within the Gloom, when your fat Matrons wish to hunt. We poison them, so you aren’t embarrassed when you lack the skill to take one down. Always save face, hmm? Be still, if you move, fight, it will move faster through your system, however, I believe now is the time for us to revise our treaty. Blink once, if you understand me, Eraela..” Wrath, those lavender eyes seething with it, as he would rest his head to the pillow beside her, casual as a lover, as his fingers moved down, pushing apart her thighs. “Such a beautiful little pussy, amazing thing really, for Kirva to have given it to you. “Arranging her like a doll, it was not as if she could fight it. Heavy things her limbs, bound with that poison, not responding to the screaming she did inside her head. Sudden that blinks of her eyes, as she stared up to him. How dare he fucking touch her, how had he managed this, and how did he think she would not take action. “Calm yourself, spider britches. If you strike back at me after, well, that would be a pity wouldn’t it? Bested by a male, let alone one who knew your weaknesses well enough to know who you would fuck, and why. “ Leaning into her ear, his tongue tracing over the line of it, before he would move her, press his arm underneath her form and lift her to him, so that her flesh was aligned with his, upon his side. “Is it true this poison makes the nerves feel alive? Does it feel like fire when I touch you...?” As if concerned as his fingers parted those little folds of her slit, displaying her like a whore for him. The teasing torment of his digits slowly stroking over velvet petals, as he nipped at the tip of her ear. “Still wet with his cum you are...or is that heat for me...” As if trying to decide as he slides one finger within that heat, slowly so slowly pulling it out. “I believe it is for me, so hush, while I speak. “

“Good girl” the murmured tones of his, as he would keep fingers splaying her sex. Held open, as he would look down, casual as an invitation to dance. Thumb rolling clit, as he leaned up, propped himself upon one arm, those golden eyes devouring the very sight of her, helpless and displayed for him. Fingers fucking into that tight little channel, as he spoke, knowing well she could –feel- his voice leaving his chest.

“Now then. The way of treaty, you will not order me as cattle in private, Eraelabryn.” That little dips of fingers deeper, churning into the puffy tight wetness of sex. “In public, you will treat me as all Moriel Bitches treat their Males. I will be respectful of the illusion, but if at anytime, I feel you push to far, I will but touch your throat once. This will be a reminder for you.” Giving the ‘rules’ as he pushed deeper, forcing her to close those eyes, fight the fucking need to kill him. How dare he...As if he could read her mind his voice answered, leaning head down, the white locks of his hair spreading over her breasts, the bite, harsh, violent to her left breast, crescent shaped bruise starting, as he looked upwards to her, that smirk upon his lips telling all. “You see, I have your mark, I know you, little spider, better then you know yourself. And I will ruin you; cast my oars into the water of your enemy. Do you know how that will make you look? That you cannot even control the Male you took to you, claimed? Your weakness pushed upon, spread like your cunt is, right now. Would you enjoy that? No. So then, a pact.” Her body responding, even as that fire overtook, wanting to grind against fingers, wanting to plunge them deeper, as her little slit trembled about, limbs unable to help, sooth that need that scoured through her. “You are now then, faced with the choice every Male faces, Eraelabryn. You can consent to this, for quiet simply, you have been bested. You can consent, and deal...or you can die. Like a whore, thighs stained with lust, poisoned in your bed, or...consent and live to plot against me.” Like a lover’s kiss, his lips parted, slowly tongue suckling over the line of bruised nipple, as his fingers, villain’s explored the very crevices of her slit. “Do or Die, that is the only choice you are allowed.” Slowly his fingers pulling out, denying that sought for explosion, trailing upwards, such idle play as he marked her stomach, the valley between her breasts, her throat with her own lust, glimmering paint for the flesh of ash that lay before him. Until those fingers reached her lips, that slow way, painting them, contorting the very tiers of plush satin, before sliding them in and out, as if to mime the action of suckling at his cock with them. Hissing breath, all she could give him, as her tongue pushed at the digits, taking her taste, her essence into those lips. His own head leaning upwards, tongue flickered out to taste her lips, as he murmured to her. “Suckle if you wish to live, little spider, I will not aid a rothe to Power. And if you cannot accept, are you not but a rothe, a slave, masked as a Daughter. Unworthy.”

Vicious words to say, her sudden motion lips forced, fighting with that poison as she sealed them around his digits, suckled indeed. Playing cheeks in, the slightest motion causing such pain. Eyes closing as she agreed, signed their accord with that whorish play, as if to gag herself upon those fingers. His lips felt brushing over her temple as he removed himself from her bed, rose upwards, that soft streaking of her spit and honey over her jaw, leaving it there, leaving her poised, thighs spread, little pussy glimmering that juice, as he would smile down to her. “Good girl. By Kirva, perhaps you aren’t a waste of female form.” Lifting his shoulders, as casual as he had come, knowing well the midst of rage she held within her.

“It is done...in the morning you should be able to move...but remember Eraela, you have vowed to Kirva on such. Would you spit in her face as well?” Lowering himself, the first bow. “With your pleasure, I shall take my leave, but of course, only if it pleases you, My Mistress.” Perking his hand to his ear, as she shot those eyes over. “What...I can’t hear you...oh, that’s right you cannot speak. Well then, I will assume you fine with me taking my leave to the Battlefield. Yes, yes, I know, you will miss me.” Stepping out, the very mimicking of correct behavior. “Of course, I will return to you soon, how could a Male live without the shrewish orders of a Female...by the way...” that slip of him out the door...”There was no posion, you will not die, at least. Merely drugged, little one. And one more thing; your House Sisters juice is much..Much...sweeter.” Leaving her as such as he strode out, his things prepared for him to leave at once.

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