Convergence Ch. 01

Worse, much worse than anything the two men were doing to her, was the way heat pooled in her core, aiding the stimulating lubrication to drench the tool being thrust in and out of her.

During the first trials, she'd been uncooperative and hostile. The Shaman quickly realized that without chemical stimulation, her body remained unaffected by his insidious efforts at eliciting her arousal. The lubrication came first, it's electrifying affects aiding her body's response but failing to bring her to completion. The spiritual bond, the Shaman had explained, would only be reinforced when she was forced to orgasm. When he had included the injection, she'd become horribly malleable and complaint to his every demand.

Her breath came in strained pants, her nipples pebbling into hard points as Essiah abandoned her mouth to twist and pinch the rosy buds. Humiliatingly, her hips began to undulate in time with the Shaman's quickening pace. Her back arched with a throaty moan when her clit was roughly pinched between thumb and knuckle, her breast pressing firmly into Essiah's groping hand.

"That's the way, Aidan, that's it. Very good," the evil man between her legs murmured encouragingly. "Such a good girl. There it is. Take it all."

A sob clawed its way out of her chest as a terrible pressure began to build. In his excited fumbling, Essiah released the restraints circling one of her wrists so he could use her hand to fuck himself, the velvety texture of his cock sliding through her cupped palm with the aid of her own saliva, collected from his hooked fingers. A live wire, her body writhed and convulsed as the Shaman's skilled fingers manipulated her clit, that vile rod never ceasing its rough fucking of her overstimulated channel.

The Shaman's handling of his circular instrument became violent and intense, with quick, deep thrusts that bumped her cervix every time. Her mind entirely severed from her body's response to such extreme forced pleasure, she could do nothing but surrender. A wretched scream echoed in the white padded room, the apprentice taking even that away from her when he covered her mouth with his and forced his fumbling tongue past her lips. The rod was shoved deep once, twice, then stalled, continuing to impale her as her pussy contracted painfully around its thick girth.

Exhausted, Aidan went limp, the force of her orgasm still driving aftershocks through her spent body. Distantly, she was aware of Essiah emptying himself vulgarly onto her chest. Clammy hands smoothed thick ropes of come almost tenderly over hypersensitive skin. Both men petted and praised, the continued, slow in-and-out movement of the Shaman's rod eliciting soft squelching noises as uniformed men filed into the room through an entrance still outside her line of sight. Several stopped to leer at the scene of the restrained and disgraced hostage Princess, trussed up and spread open. Careful hands turned her head to once again face the ceiling as her comatose companion was taken from the room.

Her face a mess of bodily fluids, Aidan did not turn away when the apprentice leaned down to press cold lips to her feverish brow. "I'm going to delight in wrecking that tight cunt of yours when my brother wakes up and starts passing you around," Essiah whispered, so quietly that only she could hear.

Just as quietly, Aidan whispered back, "Not if I kill you first, little prince." Through her muddled exhaustion, she found some small pleasure at the angry snarl on Essiah's face.

...............................................

Axton watched as the girl was sedated and redressed to be taken back to her rooms. There had been something different today, a reluctance to breaking the connection with Soren's Somnolence that he hadn't seen from the bitch before. He stroked a scarred thumb over his lower lip, deep in thought. He was under no illusion that the Shaman's ridiculous treatments were anything more than an expression of the man's own perversions. He allowed it only because it served as motivation for her continued efforts to achieve Convergence.

If she hadn't been absolutely essential to Soren's recovery and his own political aspirations, he would have put the cunt's head on a spike ten years ago. Regrettably, she had been one of the few Valkyns that had survived House Valkyn's invasion, and it was her unique talents and ability to walk in the shadows of death that had kept her alive until now.

To maintain House Thorne's shaky political alliance with its four surrounding Houses, the engagement was sustained. Neighboring royalty and nobles needed reassurance that he had no intentions of moving against the remaining royal families. House Valkyn, the only House of immortals in Dawn's Empire, had been targeted due to extenuating circumstances, none of which he had any intention of explaining to nervous diplomats. Marrying Soren to the surviving daughter of House Valkyn kept them just complacent enough to remain unaware of the power he was slowly amassing. The prospect of a House Thorne heir with immortal Valkyrie blood was also a bit too enticing to abandon.

All of his meticulous planning, decades of deliberate and precise moves would one day have the Empire, with House Thorne and Axton himself at its helm, poised to seize control of any territory they wished, and a Valkyrian heir would bring it that much closer. He could be patient.

With a decisive grunt, Axton rose to his feet and stretched. Soren's Convergence was drawing near, he could feel it in his bones, he could see it in that hellcat's freakishly fluctuating eyes. One way or another, the daughter of House Valkyn would pay for taking his son's life, and the ten long years it took to bring Soren back from the dead.