Lost in the Light

"Please." She begged him once more, her mind awash with the pleasure and stimulation he was giving. "Release for me." Mule wasn't one to disobey. He started thrusting quickly deep into her warm pussy, and it wasn't long after that a deep grunt came from his throat. He pulled out as he came, and shot his seed all over her backside. His cock slid up and down, wedged between her perfect ass cheeks as it spasmed with each shot. Feeling his throbbing cock pulsating against her was enough to cause another minor tremor, and Riyarra shuddered with pleasure. Mule had tossed his head back and sat upright and breathless as his the last of warm orgasm finished coating her lower back.

Their breaths came in deep gasps as the intensity of the moment slowly ebbed away and left a warm afterglow. Riyarra placed her hands on the mount's back and held herself up as she slowly lowered herself back into a riding posture. She pressed Mule's manhood underneath her, and held him between her sex and the blanket, savoring the feeling of his hardness beneath her. The Eltharian lady melted into her human lover's arms. Her head rested on his shoulder as she stared off contentedly at the trees that passed by.

"I could stay here like this forever." She sighed and reached up over her head to stroke his cheek.

"It's an illusion." Mule said gently. "After the pain you've endured, the slightest pleasure seems like an eternal paradise." Riyarra withdrew her hand. It was an uncomfortably cold moment before she spoke again.

"I am not the child you take me for." She sighed as she pulled the strap of her dress up over her again. "I know my pain, and I know what is real, what is not, and what must be done to return to my people. Can you not for just this moment, give me a brief peace from it all?" Her eyes drifted to the stones and grass that passed below them. Mule's long deliberation meant he had been caught off guard by her reprimand.

"I fear that if I encourage this fantasy for much longer, you will not want to leave it," he said finally.

"Would that be so terrible?" She breathed silently. "Must I be the princess for you?"

"Not for me, your grace." Mule replied. His tone had become distant and almost unfriendly. "For your people. For the same reason you ventured into the darkness of Zecair." He took that moment to readjust and fasten his trousers and belt.

"Where are you taking me?" She cut in. "I've noticed for the past while that we are not traveling east, but north. Elthair is to the East." Her tone as well had lost the familiarity they shared and become more authoritative. The moment was over, and the mood had turned colder.

"To a monastery, I must speak to the Father." Mule said. "It will do you well to rest first before returning to your people. Our hospitality will ease the recovery of your heart." His enticement wasn't received. "There is also a training ground if you would like to exercise or release some anger, but it is not for the novice." His taunt had more effect; Riyarra's long ears curved slightly backwards like a cat in a defensive posture.

"There is a prisoner there we should interrogate first about this business with your Brother."

**** *

For humans, they certainly knew how to interrogate. She thought as she lay strung out on a metal grate. Below her, hot coals burned at such close proximity it made her very uncomfortable. The heat had made her dark, bare skin sweat continuously since they lit the coals. But it was a dry heat that parched her throat and stung her eyes. What little sweat formed on her evaporated off quickly. Strands of her dry hair dangled in front of her face, it made her cheeks and neck itch terribly. The bright blue dye she had used in her silvery white hair had run dull to a mottled steel blue from this torment.

She laughed. Her vanity should be the least of her worries, but it was all she could think of right now. As she recalled, Fenecian snails were rare on the surface, and she wonder if there was a city or trader outpost nearby that had ever heard of them. She needed their mucus to re-dye her hair. But as she thought about it, she realized it wouldn't be the same; the color would dull in the sunlight anyways.

A large drop of sweat slowly trickled down her cheek and nose. It distracted her from her frustration about finding snails. As it slowly threatened to drop, she didn't dare open her eyes to watch it, the heat would dry them out instantly and they would hurt again when she closed them.

Damn these humans. She cursed, silently. Damn that Eltharian witch too, this is all her doing. How many times do I have to tell them I don't know where her brother went to? The drop of sweat finally fell, and she heard it sizzle on the coals below her.

She heard the door to the cell open, but didn't dare look up. After finally being able to tolerate the almost unbearable heat, she wasn't going to move and mess that up. Whoever was coming to visit was just going to have to forgive her rudeness at not bowing. That was the only thought she spared for them, before going back to her mental hunt for snails. It was a distraction; it was her escape.

And it was ruined when her visitor dumped a bucket filled with water over her and the coals. She welcomed the relief, but the extinguished coals immediately turned the water to steam and that choked her. Forced to hold her breath, it was a long moment before the air felt somewhat cool enough to try breathing.

When it came she drew in a sharp breath and immediately choked on the remaining moisture in the air. But as that too cleared she could breath easy and the terrible heat was gone. She could weakly feel the shackles that bound her to the grate being loosened, but had she the strength to act? When the last one came loose, she tried to roll over, but found herself too weak and dehydrated. Even the simple task made her very dizzy, but she managed to get onto her back but little else.

"Drink this." A man's voice came from the blurry, steamy air above her. Light drifted in from the door – bright, overwhelming surface light. A cup of sorts was being pushed to her lips, and strong arms picked her up and tilted her head to the liquid. She drank, but not too deeply. It soothed her dry throat, and calmed her breathing a bit. When her eyes focused on the man and the cup, she saw it being pulled away.

"You may have more when you answer my questions." He said and sat down on a bench nearby. Damn, these humans knew how to interrogate she thought. She wished she had the strength to just take the water from him. She wanted it so badly she was ready to give him anything.

The air cleared and she could see her tormentor. He was human, short, stocky, and with a shaved head. He wore a white robe underneath a brown over-robe with no sleeves. It gave him the look of someone formal or religious, but given all she knew about humans it could also mean he was her jailor.

"There is still some resistance in your eyes." He said with a smile. The man got up and closed the door, shutting out the light. A lantern flared to life as he struck the wick with a spark from something small and mechanical. With the light at a softer tolerance she could make out the room. The grate she had been stretched on for the last day or so was short and small. All around the coal pit against the wooden walls were short wooden benches. The man had some items resting on one of these benches, along with a large ceramic jug that smelled briskly of clean cold water. Beside it, the metal goblet that she drank from.

As her gaze wander back to her keeper, she found she hadn't noticed that he had already refastened three of the shackles that locked her to the grate, the last being the arm that shielded her gaze from the bright light. She didn't fight, if she had tried she would have been too weak.

"Let's try to take some of the fight out of you." He smiled, and placed a hand on her bare thigh. Any other prisoner would have most likely tensed, growled, or spat at him as that hand drifted up her soaked skin to the even more soaked bush between her legs - but not her. "There, that's good." He cooed, and proceeded to insert two wet fingers into her cunt.

She bit her lips and closed her eyes. Why not enjoy this? She thought. It had been so long since the last one came to 'interrogate' her. They were all young men, and rather virile based the frequency with which they came to play. This one would be no different than the last ones. He'd play, maybe penetrate her – one way or another. Then he'd blow his load, and out of shame give her the food or water or whatever they were trying to deny her before leaving the room in a hurry. As she thought about it, it was rather comical really - they were very good at the interrogation up until that part.

She moaned softly as she felt him play with the lips of her pussy. Those fingers rubbed and stroked, and massaged her folds with a bit of probing into all her sensitive areas. Sometimes he hit a spot that made her shiver, sometimes she felt no different, and then sometimes she wanted to kick him between the legs for not doing it right.

This one was smart, however, he was picking up on her moans to learn what she wanted. Her dehydration was making her all the more sensitive. As soon as he started thrusting those fingers inside her, she started immediately bucking her hips up, wanting to take his hand, and most of his arm, all the way up inside her. Anything to scratch the itch those short stubby little things just weren't reaching. It was a unique torture in and of itself – how she longed for a well hung Zecairin male right now. She imagined that her captor was one of the soldiers from her regiment; the ones she knew were all handsome, muscled, and very, very vigorous.

That brief daydream was the last push her arousal needed. She came hard, and when she did she heard the little man yelp in surprise as his fingers suddenly came away flooded with her juices.

She wanted more. And she looked at him with her best "more!" gaze. But this little man wasn't interested. Oh how she wanted to kill him now. But he did refill the cup from the water jug and brought it to her lips.

"Where is the Eltharian prince?" He asked as he dangled that cup above her face. She wanted it. But she didn't know the answer to his question. It didn't matter whether she lied that she did know, or honestly admitted her ignorance, they were never satisfied with her answer. She chose to simple ignore the question, and feign light-headedness.

He dumped the goblet on her head. Her tongue licked up the trickles of water it could, not minding the waste of the rest of it. When she had gotten all she could, she then relished the cool feeling of the water on her hot head. It didn't matter how much more of this they had for her, she would play along, never despairing, and then they would grow frustrated with her.

"Answer me and you may have as much as you can drink." Her captor said and waved the freshly filled cup above her head.

"What if lie to you?" She breathed hoarsely.

"We will continue to see how much you can take. You will break."

"Eventually. I do not deny that." She admitted. Her voice was like rough sand, dry and crumbling. "But I cannot give you answers I do not have." Honesty this time, she decided. She expected the water to splash her face again, so she parted her lips ever so slightly to be ready to catch it when it came.

Instead, she felt the cool flow of it being poured down her body. Trickles of the cold water dripped down her ribs and sides. It tickled something fierce, and she fought the need to squirm.

"Ahh, you like that." He said and pinched one of her hardening nipples with his fingers. The erect bud had betrayed her to him. "I see that you are a vile creature, filled with the lusts of a devil." He stated, but without a tone of insult. He brought a freshly filled cup to her lips and let her drink slowly.

"I'll tell you all that I do know." She sighed and closed her eyes. Her dry throat made it difficult to talk she had to pause between sentences to wet her lips. "I met an Eltharian scout... she was looking for the prince too... I hadn't heard of him before that... We made a deal, and I tried to find out what happened. If he was captured, it was a secret from me... But all I could find said he was dead... No live Eltharians are ever taken to Zecair... But then we were captured during one of our meetings before I could find out more." The strain on her dry throat had made her voice harsh and deep.

"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He said and lifted her head to another filled cup. He let her drank deeply this time, and when she finished he refilled it and poured it over her body to cool her off. "I have a reward for you." Her mind was a flutter with the cold tingles on her skin from the dripping water. It wasn't until his throbbing meat was pressed against her lips that she realized what he meant. They all wanted the same thing from her, and they all came to take it in different ways. Her lips parted without thinking, it was reflex at this point. She gave them what they wanted, and they played with her before they left.

His cock was hard, but not as large as the last one that made her suck on it. Her lips were chapped but wet from her drinks of water. She moaned against his member as he slid in and out of her mouth, something she learned they liked. The more expressive she was, they more excited they became, the quicker they were done and finished with her. Her tongue swirled around the head of his penis as it slid in and out from her lips. She could feel his flesh pulsing in her mouth; it wouldn't be long now. Stubby fingers found her nipples again and pinched and pulled on them. She groaned against the pain.

"You are a devilish slut, aren't you?" He grunted

as he fucked her mouth. "Vile, perverted things fill your mind, don't they?" His attempt at dirty talk was so annoying she almost gave up her act and bit down. The monk reminded her of a young recruit in her squad that tried too much when she bedded him. She focused on those memories and weathered the insults and annoyances. His groping hands mauled her breasts unpleasantly, yet she kept up the act and moaned like a bitch in heat.

He came without warning. The first spurt hit her tongue and she quickly closed her throat to the rest. His climax left much wanting just as his playing did – short and inexperienced. He finished with a grunt and collapsed backward onto his rump. She took the moment of distraction to turn her head and spit out his seed onto the coals below.

"I told that same story... to one of the last men...that came..." she panted.

"Yes, we needed to see if it was the truth." He said short of breath. The monk belted his robe up quickly and left with the bucket of water without another word.