Demon Child Ch. 17

The guards pushed her down to the floor, this time on her back and the old man moved quickly to push her legs apart and knelt. His brow furrowed with concentration, and Aylanna sensed his anger had disturbed more than his spirit. The buzz from the witnesses grew louder and someone in the back laughed and quickly strangled the sound into a fit of coughing. Aylanna could tell the old head of the house Broken Spear was contending with a growing sense of dread that he would fail before this large group of onlookers and she fought down the urge to smile.

Arching her back, she slowly began to move her hips in a sinuous primal dance, inching her way closer and closer to him until she was undulating against him, her eyes never leaving his face. Slowly she could feel the heat rise up in him and she nodded, letting the goddess magic warm her blood, feeling the throb of her heart in her loins. She could sense the relief in the old man's heart as he pulled aside his loincloth and thrust into her.

Aylanna smiled again as she pressed back, letting the sensations sweep over her, feeling the heat and tension build in the spirit of the man mating with her, sharing his passion and returning it.

This was what she knew. She could feel the eyes of the watchers, the rising tension in the room, but their presence only added to the magic and as the man spilled his offering within her, she did nothing to restrain her cry as she let the waves of panshasham surged through her. There was a low murmur as many of the onlookers chanted the word 'panshasham', acknowledging the presence of the goddess in the room.

Another moved to take his place, and then another, and Aylanna opened herself to them, blessing each of their offerings, but she never once lost her sense of herself, her awareness of the room, the throng of witnesses, and the Aga Khan remained clear in her mind. Most of all she tracked the presence of the black clad monster that scuttled around the edges of the room and her consciousness.

The ritual of being taken was brief, each of the handful of warriors taking her only once, the unions quick and ritualistic. Soon Aylanna found her nude form held down, pinned to the floor and her arm held out at a stiff angle by the iron hard hands of the Broken Spear Warriors.

She did nothing to resist as the ruby red branding iron was lifted from a brazier of glowing coals. Her eyes were wide as the old man who had taken her first, carefully positioned the glowing tip a finger's breadth further up her arm from the Twisted Dagger mark. For an instant his eyes met hers and she nodded a small jerk of her head to show him she was ready.

A small surge of admiration rose up in the old man's heart as he pressed the iron down. Not a single sound leaked from her clenched teeth as the heated metal seared into her flesh, and the stink of burning skin filling her nostrils. Several people in the crowd exclaimed and a woman's voice shrieked in a hysterical laugh.

At a word from the old man, the warriors lifted Aylanna to her feet. The only indication of her ordeal was her unnatural pallor and a small stagger as she swayed unsteady on her feet. The old man reached for her, steadying her and staring close at her.

His voice was low, pitched for her ears alone, "You have performed well tonight. You have courage and strength beyond any woman I have seen before. My name is Kah'Matlah head of House Broken Spear. We will speak again."

He turned her to face the Aga Khan, raising his voice to address the room, "The Broken Spear has claimed this one. I present her to my Khan." But the Khan was once again seated on his throne, his fingers nervously running over his hairless scalp, the menacing figure of the wizard hovering over him and whispering in his ear.

)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Please do me the kindness of leaving me feedback and comments.

I would like to thank a good friend who prefers to remain nameless for stepping in and helping me with my editing.

Enjoy, xantu