Ogres and Ogresses Ch. 26

She shook her head. She'd gone from two extremes, a passionate ogre with more emotions than Nima, to a competent witch with terminal delightfulness or irritation. And she'd fucked them both. Maker.

Sighing, she went to her room and fell asleep. She was too tired for this.

Besides, tomorrow seemed like it would be...worrisome.

-

"Get me down!"

"Zyra, you must concentrate."

"I'm going to die! You were supposed to wait for Medean!"

"You are not going to die. Your body regenerates much too quickly for a fall to kill you."

"You bastard piece of...mi...de...elp..."

"What?"

"I...elp!"

"Sorry, I didn't get that last bit. You are quite far up Zyra."

Zyra's heart had never beat so fast. She had tried everything, everything she could think of, and she could not for the life of her, get down. Caligula had decided she needed incentive to break this rut she had landed in. With a wave of his hand, Zyra was up in the air, but this time it was different. She wasn't just high up. Her height was climbing.

From up high she wasn't sure whether to beg or curse.

So she alternated.

"Consider it encouragement he said. Think of it as a new lesson, he said. I swear if I ever get down I'll shove my spear up his...oh my!"

As she rose higher and higher, panic broke through and she forgot all the lessons Caligula had taught her. Zyra had never considered that she might have a fear of heights, but as she rose into the air, she began developing one. If she survived this, she would never leave the ground again.

"Please," she begged. Her eyes began to tear.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.

"Calm down."

"Fuck you!"

She tried not to look down at the grass, and the trees, and Caligula's shrinking figure that was growing smaller and smaller as she rose. Looking to the north she saw the land that lay beyond the forested circle. She was startled by it, though she had no reason to be. Etaceh had said there were other places. Zyra calmed as she looked at the rolling patch of land. There was a place beyond it too, that was far though.

"The grass is...purple," she breathed.

The sky itself was a somber grey, the gray and purple rolling on in itself in a tranquil swirl. She felt calmed by it. There were structures, huge gray structures that she had never seen before. Made of stone. If she rose a little higher she could make out...

Zyra's body jerked to a stop.

"Ah."

And then, began to fall.

"WaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Zyra's eyes watered as she plummeted toward the ground, her arms flailing wildly. Her scream died out, silenced by the fear that clogged her throat. So this was it, this was how she died.

Staring at her inevitable demise with soundless horror, she wondered if she deserved this.

Poor Medean, he would never forgive himself. She closed her eyes. Poor Rovians, poor Nima, poor K...

She grunted when she hit something. Opening her eyes she saw that she found herself staring into irritated purple eyes.

"Really Zyra," Caligula grumbled. "Did you really have to fall so fast?"

Zyra was too stunned to respond. Caligula caught her. She had fallen countless times, and he had never caught her.

"You...caught me."

"Zyra, you are stating the obvious."

"But...but you never—"

"Even a keromedio would have trouble surviving a fall from such heights. You are powerful, not a god."

Caligula set her to her feet and she held his arms, steadying herself as her head swung. He held her up as her vision swam, trying to focus on his serious purple eyes.

"So, now do you understand how to get down?"

"Wait until I get to a ridiculous height?"

Caligula sucked his teeth. "No. You put yourself into a contemplative trance, one that is devoid of all negative emotion, one that encompasses tranquility and the stillness of creation."

Zyra rubbed her temple, releasing the grip she had on him.

"You mean, calm down?"

She watched him frown. "In simplest terms, yes."

Zyra began to tremble.

"Are you alright, Zyra?"

"You're telling me...that all I had to do...was calm down?"

Caligula took a step back, wary of the look in her eye. "Now Zyra, telling you to do something isn't going to help you. You have to learn these things on your—"

"I have nearly died, over and over for the last few days...when all I had to do, was calm down? And you neglected to tell me this?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Zyra I'm not sure you want to hear this...but I really think you should calm—"

Caligula ducked, a fist aimed for his face. He had to sidestep the other which followed immediately after.

"So, you've reverted to primitive ways?" he remarked, avoiding her blows.

"Rawr!"

Zyra's arm was engulfed by green magic that rippled like a flame and he narrowly missed her uppercut. The magic licked out at his skin and he hissed when it singed him.

"Well, that's new. How did you learn..."

"DIE!"

He jumped up into a tree, a crater where he had just stood.

"You can't do this to me!" she shrieked. "You can not do this to me!"

She picked up her sword and swung herself into the tree, the blade engulfed by the owner's rage.

Caligula would have stopped her immediately if not mildly disturbed by her hysteria, and despite himself, aroused by the situation. Magic wasn't always best performed with a clear mind, but his was. Caligula didn't have that at the moment, and Zyra's instinctive magic appeared to be emotion based. Which made Zyra the most dangerous she had even been.

And he couldn't be more thrilled, and the wider he smiled, the more she wanted to kill him.

"Zyra, you wild little thing, it was for your own good. You should thank me. Even now, your hatred of me lends you new abilities. Look at how seamlessly you channeled your magic into corporeal form."

"I'm going to seamlessly slice you in half!'"

She sliced with her sword, a wave of magic preceding her actual blade and Caligula flew into the air, flipping behind her. That was a little too close.

"Zyra darling, this chase is starting to sour."

She sent another blast that caused him to knock into the tree. His cloak ripped.

Very well, fun or not, it was time to end this.

He descended, intending to catch her off guard. Zyra turned without a beat and cut him in the shoulder. Caligula cried out, watching the blade crackle with his blood. So Kail had made her a blood sword, strengthened with every drop it drunk from its enemies. One day it would cut through a basilisk's hide.

He held his bleeding shoulder, his eyes darkening as his bloodlust took over.

"Well done Zyra, are you satisfied?"

She answered with a roar, jumping against a tree to give herself leverage.

Caligula licked his lips, his cut healing slowly, tainted with her angry magic.

He wanted to fuck her, he wanted to hold her down and fuck her until she could do nothing but mew like a kitten. He tired of the tigress. She would curl around his leg. She would.

His eyes narrowed. "You are in need of a punishment Zyra. Are you ready to be spanked?"

"I won't take this," she hissed, her green eyes sharp with murderous intent. "I won't live this way. Not anymore! Prepare yourself!"

She charged at him, full and ripe with abandon and he readied a wind to slice off her clothing. His member twitched. Yes dear, closer...closer to—

"Zyra!"

Both opponents turned to see Medean bursting out of the foliage.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Caligula grounded his teeth as Zyra skidded to a halt, her magic dissolving back into herself. He was going to kill that boy.

"Your Master started it," he grumbled. "I tire of the charade anyway. I shall see you tomorrow Zyra, bright and early. Etaceh has other business to attend to."

He teleported, leaving Zyra and Medean huffing in the field.

Medean looked back at his Mistress, shocked by the power he felt emanating off of her, and how furious it was. He hurried over, putting a hand out towards her.

"Mistress, what did he—"

"Don't touch me!"

Medean's eyes widened, his hand dropping to his side.

Zyra sheathed the sword, her heart racing. She could feel her heart beat rising into her throat as her emotions tried to overcome her. It was happening again, this feeling, this thing she had sworn to ignore.

Medean walked slowly towards her tense body, his hands out nonthreateningly.

"Mistress...let us go inside."

She didn't answer him, her shoulders rounded, her back turned to him.

"Mistress...please. Let me help you."

A harsh bitter sound came from Zyra. Medean realized she was laughing.

"Help me?" she said mockingly. "Is that what you want?"

"Always. That is always what I want."

"Because I'm your Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress," he reached out, now an arm's length away from him.

"And what? You care about me?"

"Yes Mistress."

"You don't."

Medean placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're wrong, Mistress."

She glanced at him and caught his worried eyes. He did care, just not...

Hot rage flooded through her. It didn't matter.

Zyra whirled around and grabbed him by his cloak. Without a word she dragged him through the forest, into the Marble Tree, past witches watching on curiously, and into her room. He stumbled when she released him, staring as she locked the door behind her and braced it with the table.

She ripped off her clothes, her breast bindings pooling by her feet, her boots on opposite sides of the room, until she was wearing nothing but her sword. She unsheathed it and pointed it at his throat.

"Take off your clothes."

Medean looked at her for a moment, and then obeyed. He took off his cloak, folding it into a neat pile and placing it in a chair. He did the same with the rest of his items until he was naked before her.

She circled him predatorily. She smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She felt cruel and wicked. Zyra bet that Etaceh would approve.

"Do you like this game Medean?"

He smirked, hoping to lighten the mood. "I'm not opposed to it Mistress. You are naked."

"With a sword at your throat."

"The fact remains that you are still quite naked."

"Are you scared?"

"No, Mistress."

"Why?"

His smirk dropped. Why?

He took a step forward. "I know you would never hurt me Mistress."

Zyra looked at him for a moment, and then sat on the edge of the bed, holding the sword like the hand of a friend. Medean walked up to her, careful not to touch her.

"What is it...you need, Mistress?"

She didn't answer him again, just like she hadn't the other day, just like always. It was starting to wear on him. He was wondering if all of this was starting to wear on her as well. How much more abuse could she take?

"You promised not to ignore me," he said.

"I'm not ignoring you."

"Then tell me. Please."

Zyra wouldn't look into his eyes, but she reached up a shaky hand to his chest. He stepped closer, and she pulled him down until she held him by his hair. Silently, she opened her legs and directed his face between them.

Medean knelt before her and gently touching her. She shivered, clenching the sword tighter. He leaned in closer, urging her to fall on her back. She refused, remaining upright. She closed her eyes and didn't make a sound. Despite her resistance, she was getting wetter and wetter. Medean heard the sword crash to the floor. No sooner did he hear that, was he yanked up from the floor and thrown onto the bed.

She straddled him and took his member in his hand. He tensed for pain, but Zyra was gentle, gentler than she had even been before. As she stroked him, her eyes were filled with confusion, lust, and pain.

"I am your Mistress right?"

Her voice was soft unsure. He looked her in her eyes.

"Yes Mistress."

"Say it."

"You are my Mistress."

She stroked him faster and his cock began to leak precum.

"And I can do anything I want with you."

"Yes Mistress."

"You're mine."

"Yes, Mistress."

Zyra reached up and tore strips of the canopy down. Roughly, she bound his hands above his head. Medean looked at her passively, as though she was doing nothing out of the ordinary. She didn't dare look at him too long though, his eyes were probing.

She swallowed her anxiety and touched herself to make sure she was wet enough. If Medean wanted to be an emotionless tool for her use then fine. She'd pretend he wasn't there. She'd keep his hands away from her. She'd use him.

Zyra looked down and slowly lowered herself on his member. He let out a low moan as she took him into her, waiting until she was full with all of him to speak again. How long had it been this time? A month? She wasn't lasting as long as sure used to. All those celibate years shattered in one instance. Her body would never go back.

Her pussy clenched around him, she felt full, warm, and much better.

"Don't move."

Zyra lifted her hips and began to ride him.

She rode him hard, threatening to bruise his pale hips with the force in which she threw herself down on him. She dug her hands, nails and all into his shoulders, into his belly, into anything that would give her enough leverage to fuck herself. The pain mixed with pleasure was too much for the normally calm Dark witch. He strained against the bindings.

"Zyra..." Medean grunted.

"You're mine." Zyra held his hands and leaned over him, her nipples brushing his face.

"You have to listen to me."

Medean choked when her soft breasts began rubbing his face. He would have opened his mouth to please her, but did not. Zyra obviously wanted to be in control.

The bed creaked loudly, as her strength made it slide back and forth. He was sure the witches knew what she was doing to him. This only made it worse. He wasn't sure he was going to last.

"You hate this don't you?" she snapped. "You're probably not even attracted to me. That's why you last so long isn't it?"

She was desperate to cum, but she was too sloppy to do it herself; and she was getting tired and bitter and upset with herself.

"No Mistress," Medean rasped comfortingly. "I am here for you to use."

She laughed again, a horrible sound. "You're such a liar. You must hate me then."

That was too much for him. His arousal, though potent, tempered with her words.

His eyes narrowed. "No, I don't. What do you hope to gain by punishing me?"

"Tell me the truth Medean."

"I don't."

Zyra tightened her grip on his wrists.

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Because I'm using you!" she screamed. "I'm making you feel like less of a person! I'm trapping you for my own means, and in that split second where you think you have me figured out, where you think you understand me, can reason with me, learn from me, I'll turn out to be nothing but a person who traps you. Who makes you feel hopeless and stupid. Who lets you beat yourself up for something, lets you get hurt, when there no reason for the pain. No...no reason, at all."

Zyra's voice cracked at the end and she stopped thrusting against him. She pulled her hands away from him and closed her eyes.

A tear landed on his face. Medean was furious, he didn't know that Caligula had given him the afternoon's errands so he could torment Zyra. He should have been there, protecting his Mistress. Now, he could only hope to undo the damage.

"Mistress...Zyra...hey..."

She ignored him, shaking her head as she tried to keep her tears at bay.

"Zyra I don't hate you. Everything I have done, everything I have ever done for you or others, has been out of freewill. I want to be yours to use. And, I think you're beautiful."

Zyra sniffed and began to rub her eyes. "I'm ashamed."

"You don't have to feel ashamed."

She shook her head in disagreement. "I wasn't raised to hurt others because others hurt me. I don't deserve your forgiveness." She pulled him out of her and he shivered.

"Zyra, please look at me."

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Did you know that all I had to do was calm down to stop flying?"

Medean gritted his teeth. That sadistic bastard. The whole time he thought she had to use a magical muscle she wasn't accustom to using, not something she had naturally. Dark Witches didn't fly.

"No, I did not know."

She cried harder, her shoulder's shaking. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I've done."

Medean shushed her, wishing her could stroke her face. "Shh...don't apologize. I understand."

Zyra opened her eyes, red rimmed with tears.

"Then explain it to me, because I don't know where that came from and it scares me. I-I don't want to become like them—"

"You will never be like them."

Medean's dark eyes looked deep into her. What he saw alarmed him. Zyra was more than a pack animal, she looked to others to find her value. She led by example. If she continued to stay here, steeping in the witches' evil, she might very well become like them. But he wouldn't tell her that. Not ever.

"Listen to me Zyra, Caligula hurt your sense of self-worth. He made you feel stupid and inferior. He took advantage of. You've been placing these slights in the back of your mind, unused to backing down when you feel injustice, but the physical pain coupled with this emotional slight pushed you over the edge. You wanted him to feel what you felt. You wanted to hurt him too, but you couldn't."

Medean paused to see if she was listening.

"So...what did I do?"

Medean gently smiled up at her. "You went to the only thing you have complete control over. You went to reaffirm your faith that there is at least one aspect of your life you can control. One thing that will not change or hurt or betray you. That thing, whether you've acknowledged it consciously or not, is me."

Zyra pressed her hands to her face, the tears flowing steadily. "You can't just say that," she snapped. "You can't just promise things like that. Everyone is capable of betrayal. I hardly know you."

"What would you like to know?"

"I don't know! But.. I...I don't...love you Medean."

Medean chuckled, shaking his head. "I know Mistress. I had no notions to the contrary."

"If I was just Zyra the Rovian you wouldn't be so forgiving. If I wasn't keromedio you'd think me a whore."

"Mistress, you have many atrocities to commit before you begin to call yourself a whore, let alone be called one by me. Even as you sit, naked as the day you were born on my lap, you are still an overwhelming prude."

Zyra's face twisted up like she wasn't sure if she should sob or laugh. Medean shifted his hips.

"Please untie me Zyra. Let me hold you. You want that don't you?"

Crying, she did as she was told, releasing Medean. He rubbed his wrists and sat up. Zyra wrapped her arms around him and he put his hands on her waist. Silent tears fell down her face, she was sure though they were the last of this flood.

"How is that?"

"...it's fine."

"Just fine? I see. How about...now?"

Zyra let out a startled hiccup when he thrust up into her. He kissed her neck, lifting her up and down against him, caressing her burning flesh, wiping away her tears. She shivered gripping him tightly.

Seconds later Zyra came. As she cried out, Medean held her tight. She felt herself squeeze him with her entire body. He quickly pulled out, cuming on her stomach as she held him, lying limply on his shoulder. When he was finished shaking from the intensity of it all, his arms buckled. He fell back, her body on top of his. Medean pulled out, and wiped her stomach with the ripped canopy.

Huh. Maybe that's what canopies are for.

Medean stroked her back and she relaxed for the first time all week. This was...nice.

"You can control me without my hatred,Zyra," Medean whispered, kissing her cheek. "Because not matter what you want me to do, it will always be out of a place of need. As long as you need me, you will never fully trap me, and I will always remain loyal to you."