Caught in Darkness Ch. 08

His lips slowly traversed her thigh, they were pilgrims searching for her sacred temple, and the question now came to her whether to permit their entry. Her mind was too clouded with mixed emotions of anger and lust that the answer didn't come to her before his lips had already arrived. The tip of his tongue grazed the very outer edge of her labia, and the shock of nerve impulses erased all doubts she had. It parted her lips, and licked the inner folds ever so softly at first. Her breath came in long and short gasps and both hands grabbed handfuls of his hair. She clenched her firsts tightly.

He did not relent. That wet muscle between his lips caressed and massaged the outer layers of her pussy, circling around the entrance to her temple but not yet entering. Instead they changed direction and went for the gatekeeper to her inner sanctum. His tongue flicked over her clitoris once, then circled it sensually with just the barest amount of pressure. The Majestic moaned. She arched her back, begging for more, pressing her wet lips against his mouth and holding his head there making sure he could not stop what he had started. Mule was too eager to comply. His lips sucked that enlarging bud into his mouth briefly, the sensation made his mistress squeal lightly from the overloading sensation. But too soon it was over, and that wonderful tongue returned to flicking softly over her erect clit. The Majestic's grip on his head turned to warm caresses as her fingers released his hair only to grab it again and again. Her desires were overpowering her anger against this human; she just wanted it to never stop.

But her human lover still had more for his mistress.

Two thick probing fingers squeezed her labia folds together lightly as his tongue still lavished her clit. It made her moan. One thick, probing finger circled the entrance to her wet mound. It was already soaked with her juices and it met no resistance as it slowly wiggled its way inside. Out and in, it came and went until it was buried almost up to the first knuckle inside her. The Zecarin elf shuddered and clenched onto his hair as she was penetrated by his digit. His tongue kept her subdued with its wonderful manipulations, but that intruder to her vagina set off an alarm in her body. And she bolted upright with a menacing hiss.

The mature under-elf grabbed his hair fiercely and dragged his head off of her. She glared at him, teeth clenched in the blackness as she pulled his head back to expose his neck. But that finger buried inside her found the back of her wet tunnel, and slowly started to rotate in a circle inside her, caressing that inner mound to her womb. It was a sensitive spot that sent waves of electrifying pleasure into her brain. Her menacing glare quickly melted to gasps of joy. In that brief moment began their battle of wills -- the slave against his mistress. For his impudence, he should be punished, but his sensitivity to her needs could not be overlooked. The Majestic's eyes rolled back into her head as the sensations overruled all conscious thoughts with intense pleasure. She moaned and whimpered as the aches of years past were finally being massaged away by a true master. As that thick, dexterous digit massaged her inner walls her hand subconsciously let go his head.

His lady sank slowly back into the featherbed, writhing and moaning in pleasure from his manual manipulation. So he followed her down and touched his lips to her motherly breasts. Large and round, his lips latched onto an erect nipple and teased it with his teeth. His mistress hissed, in a delighted manner this time, and cooed from the pleasurable pain. Reading her tells, he tugged at the erect nub and pinched it slightly harder in his teeth. His strong hand came up to the heaving breast and kneaded the doughy flesh. Her other breast began to feel envious of his attention so her hand instinctively went to it and started to mimic his ministrations. She squeezed her own mound of flesh and pinched the nipple atop it. Her heavy breathing quickly grew more frantic and characterized with moans and pants. He could tell it wasn't much longer now; his finger maintained a slow rhythmic pace against her vagina, but his teeth accented her pleasure with nibbles and bites all over her large breasts.

The Obedient watched all of this. She was mesmerized with the skill this lesser species could service her mistress. Her own body ached to share in the joy she was feeling. Her hand cupped her dripping pussy as her fingers tried to simulate the light rapid movements he had lavished on her lady's clit. When her lady took to her own breasts, the small girl rubbed her own pert tits. The serving girl bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as the pleasure inside her built to a climax. This was her mistress's moment, and she mustn't disturb it with her own moans of pleasure. When it ebbed away, she felt a need to be with her. It was selfish, she knew, but she wanted to serve her mistress as well as this human. But for now, she had to watch.

It was like a seizure hit The Majestic when her growing passion finally peaked. Her body spasmed and tensed, her breathing stopped briefly and her voice squeaked out as the air left her lungs. The walls of her vagina gripped his finger tightly, and flooded his hand with her juices. But he did not stop. Her heavy breathing and moans did not subside, and her escalated pleasure did not plateau off, instead it only fueled the fires inside her more. She grabbed her human's throat with those sharp fingernails and pulled him off her breast. But his finger still fucked her pussy, and it was enough to keep those fires burning, and her moans still vibrant.

It was time. Their battle of wills was now called out. Her eyes fixated on this human, this creature she found crawling around her dungeon, and she questioned his place below her feet. He was strong, skilled, intelligent, exotic, and a mystery -- her perfect, valuable subject. But deep in the back of her mind, she knew he was too dangerous. He could rival her. He could not be trusted. And she had no patience for intrigues. As the nails started to dig into his neck, he could see she was fighting the urge to end him, and the urge to let him penetrate her. Her body had been awoken to the pleasures she had forgotten and that was hard for her to ignore. This mistress he only pretended to serve was now realizing the depth of her situation. She was being used. In the back of his mind he delighted in this reversal of roles; she was now a slave to him because he had value and she wanted it. Her words came back to him that day in the cell. "In the dark, you only protect what has value." And that was what he wanted. Now that she valued him, he had some measure of power over her. And they both knew that was the question being fought over in her mind.

His cock would break the stalemate. It had grown hard and throbbing from listening to her moan. With her pussy dripping wet from an intense orgasm, it was ready for the taking. Mule lifted her legs up into his arms and positioned himself between them. The moment the head of his member touched those wet, puffy lips, he saw her eyes open wide and lock in on him. Yet those nails didn't tear out his trachea. He pushed in slowly, and the large girth spread her lips and entered into her warm wet tunnel. He was average by human standards, but very large by Zecarin comparison. The Majestic let out a whimper, and her hand fell from his throat to her side. It was a sign of weakness. It was all he needed to hear. She had lost.

When she heard that soft whimper, The Obedient lost control and a mild tremor went through her body. She pulled her fingers off her clit, and caught her breath. The lovemaking of her Mistress and Mule was turning her on so much that she needed to relieve the pressure. It wasn't a slave's place to bed her mistress, but then she and The Majestic had shared many passionate moments. They had all been at her lady's pleasure, and not hers. She wanted to feel that cock again, she wanted to taste it, and she wanted to writhe in pleasure just as her Mistress was. Emboldened by her desires, she went to the edge of the bed and crawled onto it next to her lady.

Neither Mule nor her lady stopped her, but both felt her presence. She would serve her mistress, and when her lady was done with this exotic specimen, she would keep him entertained while her lady disciplined him for his brash impudence. Her mistress needed to know she was there, and willing to serve. She leaned out with her mouth and kissed her lady's heaving breast. Her tongue came out and slowly circled the areola. The attention was well received, and The Majestic held the girl's head to her nipple. She took the cue and licked the tip of her tongue around the erect bud. Her lady liked that and curled her fingers in her servant's hair. She held her lady's breast to her mouth, and played with the other one. Her deft fingers tenderly massaged and stroked that engorged nipple.

The firm steady rhythm of the human's cock and her servant's slow, sensual tonguing of her nipple brought The Majestic to another peak in her pleasure. She bit her bottom lip and arched her hips into one of Mule's thrusts one last time as she came. It left her out of breath for the moment, and all she could do was purr and moan pleasurably. Yet fire inside was only partially.

The Majestic wanted much more.

****

The Unkillable touched the neck of the prone body to check for a pulse. His servant was still alive. He looked up to the shackled pale demoness, and the mirth left his face.

"It seems our tigress has finally bared her fangs." He muttered, and nodded to the men at the door to take The Deliquescent's body away. "I wonder if she can still bite, without her teeth." He approached the chained Riyarra, and sized up her wounds. They weren't terrible, none of her bones were broken yet, but the flesh was badly bruised in many places. He started to roll up his frilly sleeves and loose the collar of his beige shirt. The one good eye of the pale bitch was staring right at him, and she didn't move otherwise.

The Unkillable had thought of this creature as just another piece of meat. She was no threat, and when she had no value left he would end her. Pale Ones weren't uncommon, so why The Majestic would keep this one was a mystery. Even if the human claimed her, The Majestic must have known how it would seem to have an Eltharian slave. There was no law prohibiting the taking of the fair elves as slaves, but they were so hated, that to bring one into one's home would invite danger. The other houses wouldn't suffer a live Eltharian in the city. But this Eltharian had contended spirits with a skilled sorcerer and beaten her. That gave The Unkillable means to pause.

He stroked his mustache as he contemplated this mystery. End her now and be done with it, or delve deeper into this mystery and follow it wherever it lead. Both choices could be expensive if this creature had any secrets of value.

"Guard, bring the scratcher." He said over his shoulder and proceeded to pull his shirt over his bald head. One of the sentries bowed and left the dark cell for an anteroom. "Let us make this pale bird sing."

****

The Majestic sighed as the cravings of her body were finally being sated. She straddled her human and slowly rocked her body in a fluid, sensual motion. His large cock filled her completely, and with each undulating movement she made the head of that throbbing piece of meat rub the back of her vagina. That made her coo and sigh with each pass. She planted her hands on his chiseled abdomen; her fingers lazily traced the curves of his stomach muscles and played with the short hair that ran the middle of it as rode him. Their drawn out lovemaking was taxing their stamina. Already their bodies glistened in sweat. The Majestic's hair was now damp and matted. The Obedient's had taken on an heavy curl from the humidity in the room. Mule seemed the more comfortable, he hadn't protested letting her take control as her servant girl was keeping him very preoccupied.

The Obedient had his arms pinned under her thighs, and held his hands to her breasts. She wanted what her mistress got, and had her wet pussy pressed to his lips. She wasn't yet ready to let him have control yet, so she kept his hands on her as she rocked forward slowly against his tongue. Mule was eager to oblige as his tongue tried to stay in contact with her wanting clitoris, but her movements made it difficult. If that was how she wanted it, he was in no position to complain. He could sense she wanted more, she wanted his tongue to ravage her. With each forward rock she was eager to return her pussy to his tongue, but her recoil was slow to come when she took it away. She was matching her Mistress's rhythm. But for The Obedient, it was more torture than pleasure, she had a fury within her that needed to be put out, but The Majestic wanted a slow burn. Lost in her own pleasure, she didn't notice the increasingly louder gasps and moans coming from her mistress. It wasn't until her lady stopped moving all together that the girl paused and listened. The Majestic hovered there for a moment savoring the slightest sensations. It was Mule that finally acted as he thrust his hips up to grind his rigid member against that sensitive spot deep inside his dark Zecarin mistress.

The Majestic drew in a sharp breath and bolted upright as waves of electrifying nerve sensation flooded her body. With each violent tremor that shook her body, she drew in and exhaled sharp gasps. The Obedient immediately broke away form Mule and took her mistress's shaking body in her arms. The Majestic's eyes were open but rolled back; her mind was overloaded by the final release of years of pent up energies. Then, just as suddenly, she went limp.

Mule helped move The Majestic off him and they both laid her down on the bed. The Obedient brushed her lady's damp hair out of her face, and stroked her cheek. It was the same near catatonic state the serving girl had been in when she had finished with Mule. She knew how to tend to her mistress now; it would be some time before she woke.

Mule rose from the bed and headed for the tub. The water had long since turned cold, but that didn't stop him from dunking himself inside it. When he emerged, the sweat and smell of sex had been overpowered by the scented oils of the bath.

"What are you doing?" The Obedient asked him candidly. All thoughts of disciplining this human had left her, although they were not yet allies, she no longer felt he was a threat.

"The scents of this bath will attract less attention than the smell of two aroused females." Mule stated matter-of-factly. "I have business with one more person." The Obedient watched him dress as she digested his words. Her mistress slept deeply below her.

"What of the slavers?" She almost accused him of abandoning them. But at the last moment she paused. This human could be shrewd and calculating; he knew something she didn't.

"Taken care of. Word has spread that The Majestic returned." He said. That was what he left for, and why he returned in an Unnamed robe. Lowly though they may be, the Unnamed Ones were slaves free on their owner's death and free to take a servant's name. The appearance of one of The Majestic's Unnamed ones was almost proof of her return. But Mule could still sense her doubt.

"Some may choose not to hear the whispers." He said. "I will give them an easier target." His meaning was not lost on her.

"Who?" She asked. The fury in her voice was unmistakable, and her trust in him was now adamant as his plan was becoming apparent. Mule fastened the belt around his waist and looked up at her.

"The one who attacked The Majestic." He stated and met her eyes. Her expression slowly changed as it all fell into place inside her mind: he was shrewd and calculating.

"Name them." She whispered darkly. As she searched his gaze, for the first time she saw him now as an ally.

"No." Mule shook his head. "But I will take away their name." a wicked, sadistic smile curled The Obedient's lips.

"Rip his throat out." She growled. Mule smirked and left.