Feldare Tales: High Society Ch. 06

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"Milord fancies another witch in his stable?" asked the slim woman, sidling up to him and running her sharply nailed fingertips over his shoulders.

Grendahl said, "Terena, I fear I could never meet your match, in either ability or appetite."

"This is true," she whispered into his ear, kissing his neck between words. "I serve you, mind, body, and soul," she said.

The Templar's hand moved down the witch's back and then palmed her small, round rump, pulling her toward him until her slight form was tight against his body.

"You try your arts on me?" he asked, glaring at her lovely hazel eyes.

"No, milord," she gasped. "I only seek to please you, in any way you ask." Her body writhed against his and he could feel her hands moving down his tunic, front and back.

He shoved her away. "I've taken enough pleasure of you, witch," he said, "and you've fed of enough energy from me, find your own source of power."

The briefest of hateful glares flashed in her eyes, but was soon masked, skillfully, by this consummate deceiver. "As my lord commands," she said, bowing low. "I will have the golden-haired witch before you in less than five days."

"Better," said Grendahl as she left the tent, the anger in her posture telling him she would do as he ordered, simply to spite him later, and so he would owe her a large favor.

- - - - - - - - - -

"His own friends?" asked Crissa, having heard Kenett tell the entire tale of that night. "Why would they do that?"

Peris shrugged and sat on the bed beside the sorceress, who was now sitting up and cupping her chin in both hands. She still had no clothing, but Peris would rectify that this night.

"Frankly, that makes less sense than Wenn doing it," said Crissa.

"They are young wolfling nobles. Who knows what slight may have set one to killing another?" said Peris.

"No," said Crissa. "What he described was a ritual, and it was more than one of them."

"But Kenett said only one launched the burning spell," said Peris.

Crissa sighed. "Ritual magic," she said. "It is something some of the churches do to heal their sick. The entire congregation gathers with one person leading. That leader becomes the focal point of a LOT of magical energy."

"A horrible ritual," said Peris.

"Agreed, but a ritual nonetheless," responded Crissa.

Kenett was sleeping soundly again, gently nudged into unconsciousness by Crissa after he had spoken the full tale of the night of Lentan's death to Peris in the guise of an elven maiden. "Will he recognize me when he awakens?" she asked.

Crissa shook her head and said, "Not likely, he fully believed you to be an elven woman; he will never associate you with her."

"You're saying I'm not pretty enough to be an elf?" asked Peris, pretending upset.

Crissa gave her a humored grin. "Not even an elf is as pretty as he thought that elven maiden was."

"That explains the agog expression he kept wearing," said Peris, looking at Kenett with soft eyes. "I really thought he loved me."

"He did," said Crissa with a wistful sound in her voice. "Would be that it was a permanent effect."

Peris lifted the coverlet slightly, revealing his bare thigh. "I should find him clothes, as well," she said.

"I don't know," said Crissa, giving him an appraising look. "He's rather a good-looking lad when not clad."

"Crissa!" exclaimed Peris.

"As if you've not looked yourself, girl," said Crissa, grinning at the younger girl.

"Only when I was tending his wounds," said Peris, giving self-defense one last try.

Crissa raised an eyebrow at her, and her smile broadened to huge proportions. "I don't believe he was injured there, in particular," she said.

Peris was blushing fiercely now, and covered her face with her hands. "I did, I looked at his manhood," she said, giggling. Both of the young women had a hard-earned giggle then, and felt their ages for a moment or two.

"I'm off to find you clothes," said Peris, putting on one of the cloaks and donning a head-covering rag that would hide her hair. "And some for our young stud there."

Crissa giggled again and rose to relock the door after Peris left. The shorter girl stood quietly in the doorway. "I'm very afraid, Crissa," she finally said.

"So am I," replied the sorceress. She reached out a hand and touched the cheek of the pretty young noblewoman. "Be very careful."

Peris silently nodded and stepped out into the fall fog that was already filling the streets, even though it was just after full dark.

Crissa should be doing this, she's more competent at all things than I, she told herself as she moved down the long street. Every motion in the fog made her start, her head turning alertly toward every noise. A cat caught her attention for a brief moment as it came bounding out of an alley's mouth, seeming huge for a fraction of a heartbeat.

She had prowled Norboro many nights, even more foggy ones than this, and had never feared for her safety.

Of course, that was before there were people about who might wish to kill her, and before she had become something of an outlaw.

Peris decided that she had to get word to her family, let them know what passes. She feared penning that letter, though, and feared even more the response from her father. Crissa had given her a name, Charel, a tailor, who would, from Crissa's word, give her clothes aplenty. She idly wondered as she turned onto his street, what Crissa may have done to make him that grateful. Quickly, she dismissed that from her mind, knowing she would not be comfortable with the answer.

Are you so much holier? A sudden thought sprang into her mind.You were ready to do the same to pay the healer, and you were actually looking forward to it, weren't you?

"No," she said out loud, in a quiet voice. "I was simply resigned to make the best of something."

Peris had reached the door to the tailor's shop. It was a tiny place, barely a shop at all, more of a stall attached to the front of a small home. She rapped on the door, her knock tentative in its softness and caution.

A few moments later the bolt was thrown back and the door opened a crack. Lamplight poured out in a narrow fan. "Yes?" a voice asked from behind the still mostly closed door.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Peris. Crissa seeks a favor of you."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hold him well, lads," said Cherle as he watched the other members of his circle grasp the arms and legs of Carsten. That worthy seemed quite unwilling to be held down, and it took six of them to do so. "You will serve the needs of the One, Carsten," said Cherle.

He was wearing long, dark robes with red-trimmed sleeves. The other boys wore only black robes with no markings. Carsten was nude, his body glistening with the sweat of fear. "No," he grunted. "You're lying, he would never order this!"

"He has and I have chosen you," said Cherle somberly. Two other boys stood back from the six pinning down the writhing young nobleman, and four girls with them, young noblewomen, also of the circle.

Each had remarkably similar stories of how they had become members of the Circle of the Eye. It had been all in good fun at first. Emilee was the first, the eldest girl. She was reasonably pretty, and well liked. But when the man had approached her, a handsome man, who radiated power and vitality, and asked for her company, she happily obliged. Soon, she was recruiting the others into acts of more and more base debauchery.

They were soon conducting more dire rituals, and animals bled their lifeblood to feed the spells they wrought. They reveled in the petty power it granted them and they learned more potent rituals and conducted them. They prospered in small ways of little significance, ultimately, but seemingly important to young noblemen fascinated in minutia of status and power; bits of wealth, ill health upon their rivals, turning the eye of a favored person, and a hundred other little things that felt powerful and urgent.

Now the Templar who had recruited them and shown them how to achieve this power asked for some payment for that gift. Who were they to refuse a simple and minor request such as that?

Cherle began to chant and was soon joined by the outer circle. Shiran, the youngest girl, and the newest initiate, recruited by Cherle himself, shed her robe and walked up to the struggling young man.

"No!" Carsten shouted. "Stay back!"

She smiled down at him and lowered herself beside his head, stroking his hair with a gentle touch. "You know we must serve the One, as it is deemed needed," she whispered, her smile never leaving her expression. "Do not resist, for it will only make the service more painful."

He yanked his head from her touch, glaring at her. "They mean to kill me!"

"Those who die in the service of the True One never truly die, and you know that," she said, her eyes flashing with impatience. "If your faith is lacking, then you're an unworthy servant, anyway, and death is the only answer you deserve."

The six boys holding him pushed down harder, pinning him securely, only his head could now move, and his body at the waist a bit. She moved around them, crawling, almost like a predatory cat. Shiran moved up between his outstretched legs, lowering her head as she moved up and keeping her large blue eyes locked upon Carsten's.

She took his flaccid cock into her mouth and started to suck upon it, moaning as she did so. He writhed, but was unable to dislodge her and unable to stop his prick stiffening under the gentle suction and soft caress of her lips.

Cherle's chant gained volume and her head moved faster over his stiff rod. His arms were twisting in their sockets as he tried vainly to stop the climax that was forcing its way upward through his loins. There was a horrid sound of snapping as the bones inside his pinned legs snapped. The change was beginning.

"One save me! NO!" Carsten screamed as he came. The girl kept sucking until the last of his seed was spilled and she looked up gleefully as the change began. The other boys loosed their grips on the twisting and withering limbs. All of them began chanting, except Shiran, who smiled at the writhing shape as his body metamorphosed and his soul was ripped from it and ascended to the Portal of Forever.

The change was as quick as it was extreme. A few moments later, barely a dozen heartbeats from when his seed had spilled into the young woman's mouth, he was no longer human. In his place was a - thing - that resembled more a cat than any other creature. It had four short but powerful-looking limbs, each ending with long, bone-taloned feet. It was bare of fur, except a patch atop its head, where Carsten's blond hair had been. It's long neck rippled with strong muscles, echoed down its flanks. It turned a hateful glare upon Cherle and opened its maw to reveal rows of sharkish triangular teeth.

It took a step toward him, hissing and spitting blood in its fury.

"Stop," ordered Shiran.

The creature lurched to a stop and turned its wide-set blue eyes toward the girl. "Obey me, you serve me and the One through me."

It turned all the way around and walked toward her. Its scent was upon her, its nose twitched incessantly, sniffing the air. Between its strong hind legs, a long phallus extended, growing very long indeed, nearly dragging upon the ground.

"You wish to have me?" she asked, rising to her knees and opening her legs. Its head moved between them and sniffed at her entrance. The phallus bobbed obscenely between its hind legs. "Find the one named Crissa, the Whore of the False One. Kill the slut who is her companion and bring us the witch and you will have me."

The creature hissed again, baring its shark's teeth, then glared at the pretty young woman's face. "Obey," she repeated.

It hissed a last time and bounded toward the door of their basement chamber. One of the young men opened the door for it and it shot out into the night, a pink, fleshy blur vanishing into darkness.

12
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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 18 years ago
I need the next one!

Great Story. Keep up the writing.

AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
EXCELLENT!

This story is getting quite exciting. Please update soon!!

-tetmarut25

AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
Great reading

What a fantastic read. It combines my 2 favorites: erotica & fantasy.

Little BirdLittle Birdover 18 years ago
Now it gets nasty

It didn't looked that good for them but now it's going very nasty. At first it looked mostly like fun but not it seems to could not be less so. I think I'm not the only one who wonders how they'll get out of this.

Really nice, go on. : )

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