Ogres and Ogresses Ch. 25

"We will be civilized at this monthaversary celebration, right Etaceh?" Caligula interjected. He grinned at both women, obviously entertained.

"What harm could a little desert do?"

"It's just...I put so much effort into the planning of this menu," Etaceh sobbed dramatically.

Zyra stared at her blankly. She was squinting. Finally Etaceh succeeded in spilling a few tears.

Zyra sighed.

"Oh, no. Please don't cry Etaceh," she stated half-heartedly.

"This is my gathering, and I will cry if I want to!"

"But you shouldn't."

"But I'm so upset!"

"You poor thing."

"I bet you won't even like the dessert!"

Caligula chuckled. "It's chocolate cake. What's not to like?"

Zyra watched him slide a finger across the dessert's surface and collect its brown cream. He put it in his mouth and moaned. His eyes narrowed and he grinned.

"Delicious."

Zyra looked down and slid her finger on the cream.

"Caligula!" Etaceh's voice climbed in octave as she ranted. "Do not teach her poor table manners! She is already a barbarian!"

Zyra put the cream in her mouth. Milk, it was made of milk. She moaned around her finger as the flavor took her over. Chocolate, yes, it had to be made of magic. She swirled her tongue around her finger, forgetting herself in front of her company.

"Oh great." Etaceh's voice cut through her enjoyment.

She pulled her finger out of her mouth and looked at the witches. Caligula's eyes had grown dark. He leaned on and arm, watching her.

"Oh please," he grumbled. "Please continue."

Zyra picked up her spoon. She was supposed to scoop it. Right? She wasn't a barbarian.

Warily she looked up at Etaceh. Etaceh shook her head, regarding her like a hopeless case.

She put it down and picked up her knife. So it needed to be stabbed. How strange.

Again Etaceh shook her head, this time putting a hand to her temple. So it was the fork.

Annoyed by Etaceh's insult she sliced through the cake with her fork. Then she cut that piece in two. Gently spearing the piece she opened her mouth and as gently as possible, placed it in her mouth. She closed her mouth and chewed soundlessly, swallowing softly. Then, she patted her mouth with the dinner cloth.

"Better," Etaceh approved. "You like it?"

"Yes," Zyra said, surprised that she did.

"It's...like nothing I've ever tasted."

And I have the strangest feeling I can no longer live without it.

"Enjoy," Caligula said, picking up his own fork.

"Eat it all."

She nodded. As though not finishing it was ever an option.

Zyra ate the cake as civilly as she could and Etaceh continued on rambling happily. The gray witches came and took away her flower salad in the same manner they have removed the previous dishes. She found herself done by the time they came to her side.

"Would you like seconds Zyra?" Etaceh asked.

"Seconds?"

"More cake."

Zyra's attempt to avoid barbarism was circumvented by the discovery of "seconds."

There was more?

"Yes."

When the next piece arrived, Zyra tore it apart. Etaceh coughed a few times to remind her of her surroundings, but soon gave up in favor of commenting on how enthusiastically she was eating, and how it was about time.

"I know I haven't been human in a very long time but I do remember that everyone, everyone, love chocolate. I mean, how could you not? There was a chocolate factory, many, places devoted to the worship of chocolate. There were movies about chocolate, movies about the "men" who made chocolate. Holy days filled with the giving and receiving of chocolate."

"More."

"Well, there was also a man. I thinking they called the Easter Santa. He rode on a chariot of chocolate."

"More cake."

"Oh. Well you shall have both. Gray witch? Bring her more cake so I can continue my story!"

Caligula chuckled, eyeing her with increasingly lust.

"Careful Zyra, if you eat anymore, you might soon taste like chocolate."

"Don cair..." she mumbled, through her mouth full.

"Then again...maybe you already do."

"Stuhl don cair."

Etaceh paused in her diatribe and looked between them. She frowned, her fingers clenching.

"Actually I think that's enough," Etaceh announced. "You're on your fifth slice. I'm cutting you off."

"MMH!"

"Don't protest! You'll get sick it you continue. Grey witch, tell them to stop bringing cake. Hello? Goodness gracious, must I do everything around her. Hold on!"

Etaceh stood up to hurry after the witch that didn't hear her. "I'll just do this..."Etaceh tapped Zyra's chair. "And be right back. Don't go anywhere."

Caligula and Etaceh traded a look, both of them reacting to what she had done very differently.

Caligula chuckled. So the Witch of the Valley didn't trust him alone with poor little Zyra.

"Would you like some milk Zyra?"

Caligula waved a hand and a glass of completely white liquid appeared before her. Zyra stared at the glass, wiping the crumbs with the back of her hand. She before had never seen milk so pure.

"It helps wash down chocolate. Anyone could tell you this."

He slid the glass forward, but didn't hand it to her. Unable to hide her curiosity she stood up and lifted the glass. Gazing at it, she sipped. It was smooth and cold, full flavored, its froth resting on her top lip. She licked it away innocently, her eyes on her food, unaware that Caligula watched her like food.

"Finish your slice. Drink," he encouraged. "You'd best finish it before Etaceh returns. She might think I'm spoiling you."

Zyra nodded and drank deeply, incised by the heavenly combo presented to her. Milk and chocolate, light and dark, good and evil. It melted on her tongue.

"Do you enjoy the tastes?"

"MH."

"You know Zyra...I'm curious about you."

She looked up, watching Caligula lean forward. It was awkward, as though he dared not move too close.

"You're so strange. Hungry, young, yearning for things you do not yet understand."

Zyra swallowed. "What is there to learn?" Her cake was almost finished.

Caligula laughed. "Perhaps you need to venture out and learn first what you desire to learn. Taste the world. I wonder..."

Zyra downed the glass of milk, her plate empty by now.

"...what you, taste like."

Zyra let out a content sigh and placed the glass down. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Probably the same as you."

"Oh? By now, you probably taste like chocolate."

"By now, your mouth should have—."

She froze mid-insult. It was like being shocked. One instant she was fine, in the next her heart was racing. Zyra grabbed her chest, staring at the table. What...?

She looked up at Caligula who retrieved the glass with his knife and made it vanish.

"Something wrong?"

She jumped when a rush of heat surged through her, swirled around her, settling between her legs. Impossible, surely she was not reacting this way. How was this possible?

"I'm back!" Etaceh chirped. "Now. Who's up for an after dinner mint?"

Zyra bent over, holding her waist. She groaned as Etaceh walked over to her.

"Zyra darling, what's wrong?"

"I...I don't feel so good."

Etaceh glanced up at Caligula who shrugged, and gestured for a grey witch to come forth.

"It's all that cake you ate," Etaceh fussed. "I knew we should have stopped you. Send for Medean. I believe this night is over."

The grey witch nodded and walked off. Zyra sighed, as Etaceh leaned on her chair, rubbing her back in an oddly comforting way. Since when did Etaceh nurture?

"Its fine," Zyra said standing. "I just need to go to sleep. I can go myself."

"Oh Zyra, wait for..."

"Goodnight Etaceh. Caligula."

Zyra all but ran back to her room. Locking the door behind her she threw off her clothes and sat on her bed. The burning that over took her was madness, a madness that reminded her of a particular bite that caused her to allow unspeakable things to happen to her. She thought of Scallen's wet tongue stretching between her folds made her gasp. She was aroused, too aroused for someone who had just been at a dinner.

Zyra wasn't sure what had come over her. Was the cake so delicious, the milk so pure that her reaction was a need to top it with orgasm?

Zyra wasn't sure, but she didn't have time to figure it out. If she didn't do something she would go mad.

She took the rag from her table and submerged it in the cold water jug. She patted her skin with the cool rag, hoping to alleviate some strain. When the water all but evaporated on her flesh she knew she would have to touch herself. She had not touched herself in any sexual manner since she arrived. Part of her was sure she was being watched.

She tumbled underneath the covers and tried to control her breathing. Even the cover was too hot. She tossed it away. Grabbing her night gown, she put it on at the very least, the light white material hanging loosely above her. She laid back and sighed.

Carefully, she pressed a hand between her legs. Her fingers trembled as need battled with practicality, until need won. Her hand met her pussy and she exhales a breath she didn't know she held. Her body arched into her touch as she petted herself feverish, writhing in the covers.

"Zyra?"

Medean knocked three times on her door. "Zyra are you alright?"

"Go away!" she shouted, her hand still rubbing.

"I'm fine! Don't disturb me!"

She put a hand to her breast.

Her door swung open. Seeing Medean, she froze.

"Miss! I insist—"

She had locked the damn door.

She had locked the damn door.

It seemed, a door didn't matter. The door was practically an idea of a door, an illusion, a curtain of beads, because it did nothing to stop Medean from entering her room. It had done even less to keep him from witnessing her hand up her gown and her hand at her breast. And less to keep him frozen, unable to look away.

Hot embarrassment clogged her reason and she looked around for the nearest weapon. The only way to wash away her shame was with Medean's blood.

Medean had been stunned by the sight for a few moments, more stunned as she stared up at him in recognition, but he unfroze when he saw that look in her eye. He knew that look. She was going to lose it.

"Miss I—"

"No! I tell you to go! I tell you not to disturb me! What do you do? You disturb me!"

"Miss it's a perfectly natural—Miss, please put that down. Don't—"

Zyra was stronger than Medean. At that moment, her strength was her weapon. She could not for the life of her find anything useful. When he began to tell her about "natural" she lost it. Gathering her pillows, she stood on her bed.

"Miss, please put that down."

He ducked as it flew past him. Looking back, he realized the first pillow had been a distraction.

"Don't—"

Zyra hurled herself at Medean, knocking the lean witch to the floor. With all of her strength, held him down, she straddled him, and covered his face with her pillow.

When Medean was unconscious, she'd carry him to his room. If he awoke he'd think he had a very odd wet dream. If not, who cared? There, problem solved. He struggled, but she wasn't budging. It wouldn't be long now. It would take a miracle for her to—

"Ah!"

With a shriek, Zyra threw herself off of him and scrambled up. He had touched her. Touched her there! A full caress on her naked, vulnerable, flower. His grimy, hands had defiled her.

"Are you out of your mind?" she screamed.

"Are you?" Medean wheezed, holding his neck as he sucked in precious gulps of air. "Dammit Zyra! I'm only trying to help you!"

"I don't need your help!" She wrapped herself in a sheet, and turned from him. "I don't want any of your help! Just leave me alone!"

"You have to know by now that no one succeeds alone."

"Save it. You can lecture me from the other side of the door." She turned, picking up her pillows when he put a hand on her shoulder. Pulling away, she found him stronger than she initially calculated.

"Let me go! Fuck!"

Medean stared at her, his expression grave. "Out with the Rovians you had family, friends, and lovers. Out here you have me Zyra. I can be whatever you need. You may not want me Zyra. But you need me."

Zyra chuckled. "You sound just like this gold eyed muck-eater I know. In the end you'll turn out to be just as selfish. What is it about males that make you so presumptuous around me? What gives you the right to consider me naïve? Huh?"

The desire and arousal still ran through her, her anger distracting it in bursts. It was too much like a sick twisted repeat of her and Kail's relationship. She had bedded a monster, an ogre, and now she was to be the bedmate of a witch? Just to fulfill her basest most savage desires?

"I am not naïve because I fail to spread my legs every time I wish to. I will not be made a fool of."

Medean bent into a low bow. "I'm sorry if I offended you Miss. It was never my intention, but I could help but notice that your distaste for me was not solely because of my species. You distrust men in general, which, based on your experience, is valid. Please do not take my offer as selfishness. I merely wish to please you and assuage your guilt."

"What do you...know about my experiences?"

Medean rose from his bow and looked at her. "Would you really like to know, Miss?"

Zyra didn't.

She walked out of the room, her mind racing, her heart thumping at her chest. Just the thought of another man other than Kail set her on edge. It hurt because of how she loved him, it hurt because of how he had chosen to reject her and push her away when he should have been fighting for their love. The Rovians would be waiting for her. Why couldn't Kail? Ah, what did it matter anyway?

Medean was a nuisance, but she couldn't afford to have no one readily in her corner. She would rather have someone eager to please, than stand directly in the fire of Caligula's might.

When she returned from her walk she found her room empty. Her pillows had been placed neatly on her bed, her discarded clothes were neatly folded, and there was a glass of light blue liquid on her table. Zyra closed the door behind her and stared at the drink. Snatching it up, she drained the glass and climbed into bed. The enchanted candles went out and she suffered silently until a cool air settled upon her. When the fire inside of her dulled, she fell into a deep sleep.

----****----****----****----****----****----*

She didn't understand, but the grown-ups would not explain.

Nima sat in the flower field, stewing in her thoughts as she made delicate rings out of dying dandelions. They were about to dry out for cold season. The huntress Paj stood a ways away, guarding her from the stray animals that might wander about. She had tried to persuade her to play with her, but she politely refused. Ginger was busy cooking the midday meal. If Gharla and Enui were about they might have played with her, but Rair had taken them into the forest for something.

They were always busy, her mother included, finding things to distract themselves from what was so obvious to her.

Where was her Auntie?

She had tried to wait patiently like a good girl. Zyra would expect that of her, but a week went by. And then another, and another. Nima wanted answers, so asked her mother.

They were in the tent, eating together. Kyzu was braiding her hair. Kyzu's fingers grasped every strand of hair and pulled it into the braid. Nima grimaced at the pain. Zyra knew to leave the edges out. It hurt otherwise. It hurt.

"Mommy, when is Zyra coming home?"

Kyzu stopped, startled by her question. "What?"

"When is Auntie coming home?"

Kyzu swallowed and resumed braiding. "Soon."

"How soon?"

"Just soon."

"But when?"

"Nima, please stop wiggling."

"No! It hurts. Zyra braids my hair, you never braid my hair! Why are you doing it?"

Kyzu dropped the braid and looked, horrified, at her child. "Sweetie...I. I just...I was never as good at braiding as Zyra. It's not that I didn't want to braid your hair. I was busy and—"

"It's not about hair!" Nima shouted. "I want Auntie Zyra! I want to know when she's coming home!"

Kyzu dropped her comb and held her mouth, shivering. "Am I...a terrible mother?"

Nima's eyes widened when she saw tears drop from her mother's eyes.

"Have I neglected you? Has Zyra...treated you like I should have?"

"No!" Nima said, confused and frustrated. Why was she crying? Now she wanted to cry. "I just...I just..."

Nima's eyes began to well up with hot tears and she rubbed her eyes with balled up fists. "I just. It hurts Mommy. It hurts."

Kyzu gathered her daughter into her arms. "I know sweetie. I know. I miss her too."

"Then when—"

"I don't know baby. I honestly don't know."

The mother and daughter held each other, joined by love and loss. They sat in the silence, wishing for the one who was lost to return.

Nima still didn't understand, she would never understand, but at least she knew one thing. She was not alone. Her mother wasn't ignoring her, she was just hurt.

Nima picked up a wishing flower. The round ball of white fuzz swayed in the wind. She closed her eyes, and blew. Her wish scattered in the chilly wind, off to where her Auntie was, wherever she might be.

"My liege, the air grows brisk. We should depart."

Nima nodded. The cold season was upon them. Ginger was making her a new winter dress.

"Yes. We should go." The field of wilting flowers waved a goodbye. They would die now, leave her until spring. Nima whispered a silent goodbye and followed Paj to the campground.

---****----****----****----****----****----****

"Miss...Miss Zyra..."

A voice called her from above the surface of the water. She looked around, her hair flowing out around her, her breath casing bubbled that ascended towards the light.

"Miss...please wake up..."

So this was a dream. That explained her ability to breathe underwater. The water was warm, she felt tranquil. Why should she wake up?

"Miss. I know you can hear me. I insist you wake up."

Zyra sighed. Slowly she swam through the heavy water current and broke to the top of the sea. When she opened her eyes, Medean was standing above her, his polite face on. So he intended to pretend last night had not happened?

"Good 'morning Miss."

Well, she was quite fine with that. In his arm he held a towel and what she assumed were her clothes for the day, but she had never seen her brown huntress tunic so clean. What she had thought was brown was actually a light crème. Or perhaps he had ruined it in some way. Yes, that was it.

"What have you done to my garments?"

"Cleaned them Miss."

"With what? Milk?"

"Magic, Miss."

"So you've ruined them."

"Not at all Miss."

Zyra pushed out her bed and looked around her. While the Marble Tree was always a perpetual night, she was beginning to learn how to tell time within it. If she was correct...

"Isn't it a bit early?" she asked.

Medean nodded. "Yes Miss. You appear to be getting much more acclimated to your environment. Well done."

"Thanks. Is there a reason why I'm awake?"

Medean nodded, handing over her boots. "I have arranged a different morning routine in order to refresh you, as well as a special meal to be taken outside."

Zyra didn't want him to know, but she was looking forward to stretching her legs away from the elder witches. With a nod she took her clothes and the towel.

"Wait here," she commanded. Medean halted mid-stride and bowed.

"Yes, Mistress."

She smirked. "Do I detect a hint of defiance Medean?'

"No, Mistress."

"Good."

Smirking, she walked off to the hot spring.

While she bathed, Medean examined her sheets with disgust. Caligula had reached a new low. He was going to have to keep Zyra in his sight at all times. He frowned, just thinking of how she'd react. Still, it was less dramatic than how she'd react knowing Caligula had magically drugged her.