tagTransgender & CrossdressersThe Blood Pact Ch. 12

The Blood Pact Ch. 12


In that ancient crypt, my training in the killing arts began. There was no time for me to learn everything a proper Blood Dagger should know, so Nikelle taught me only those things I would need in order to kill Sir Ruvano -- a man I still did not believe deserved to die.

"A blood dart is a difficult thing to master so we will have to keep things simple." She held out her dagger, offering me to take it. "This is the primary weapon of all Blood Daggers -- the instrument from which our name originates. As such, it is much more than a mere weapon. It is a symbol of what you are. It is your heart, your soul."

Now was my chance. She was handing over her only weapon to me. I could plunge it into her heart and end this entire charade right now. However, I could no more imagine myself killing a woman -- especially one I'd made love to -- than I could Sir Ruvano.

As I reached for the weapon with shaky hand, the blade quivered and melted, flowing into the hilt as if it really were made of blood like it appeared to be. Even if I possessed the fortitude to slay Nikelle, what I took into my hand was nothing more than a harmless piece of metal and bone. Was this the blood magic Master Oringel had spoken of?

"Now hold it as if you intend to use it -- because, most assuredly, you will."

The hilt was perfectly scaled to fit a feminine hand such as mine or Nikelle's. The bone grip had darkened to a rich patina and was worn smooth by countless hours held in a hand much more sure than my own. The curved contours of the knuckle guard and the pointed pommel suggested the shape of a barbed fang. Where the blade should have been, however, there were merely a few tiny holes. As I gripped it more firmly, I felt a tiny prick in the palm of my hand.

"Ow!" I let go to see a tiny barb on the grip had indeed draw blood, but only a minuscule droplet. Regardless, it now inched like mad.

"Don't let go!" Nikelle snapped. "You must learn to focus that pain."

Fearing the repercussions of what she might do if I refused, I did as she wished. It was indeed irritating, but hardly fatal.

"Now picture a blade. Call it into existence with your will."

I looked at her hopelessly. "I'm not a mage. I can't work magic."

"You don't need to be a mage," Nikelle said. "Our blood has mingled. That is all that is required." She slapped me upside the head hard enough that it stung. "Now concentrate! Focus!"

I did as she wanted, I imagined a blade just like the one she'd possessed. I pictured it growing from the end of the dagger in a reverse of the way I'd seen it disappear. I held my breath and ground my teeth.

Nothing happened.

"This will never work," I said, gasping. "I think you've made a mistake."

"Try again!" I didn't see her hands stir, but there was a flash of movement and she suddenly had a second dagger poised at my throat. "Now!"

With no other choice, I tried again, this time pouring all of my nonexistent talent into that stupid artifact. I strained until my vision became speckled with flecks of black. Nothing was any different than the last time until a tingling weakness began spreading out though my hand. It raced up my arms and across my shoulders. I felt faint and very nearly passed out. I did fall to my knees but the blade Nikelle still held at my throat forced me to keep trying. Then, in a sudden outpouring of what felt like my very soul, a torrent of vitality rushed through my hand and into the dagger. I let out a shriek, fearful that it was going to take all of my blood and leave me a dry shriveled husk. Frantically, I tired to stem the tide, but it was like cresting the wave of an orgasm; now that it had begun it was too late to stop.

Nikelle laughed excitedly. That was when I opened my eyes. She'd removed her dagger from my throat and was now staring at the one in my hand. I looked down as well and saw a tiny spike of red no larger than an arrowhead wavering uncertainly on the end of the hilt.

"You've done it!" Nikelle said. "That means there's no doubt now. Only a true Blood dagger could have done that!"

I wasn't sure why she was so excited. It didn't look like I'd be able to hurt anyone with that pitiful excuse for a blade. In fact, the moment I lost my concentration, it snapped back into the blade with a flash that sent a cold numbness racing up my arm.

"With practice, you will be able to make the blade as large or as small as you need. Now do it again. And again. And again until you are able to make a blade at a moment's notice without second thought. When on a mission, your wits and that dagger are the only things that you will be able to rely on."

If that was true, I was already as good as dead.

But she insisted on more practice, and so that's exactly what I did. For hours I was held hostage by a woman I was once quite fond of -- and who I thought was fond of me. I practiced until the sweat was rolling off my body and soaking my masculine clothes. My body showed through the wet fabric, but I was so exhausted, I'd long since ceased to care. The blade did become easier each time I managed to bring it forth, but I was never able to make it any longer than my hand. Nikelle said that at long as it could reach Sir Ruvano's heart, it would be sufficient.

All the time I practiced, she continued with her harsh encouragements and spouted off instructions of how I was supposed to gain entrance to Sir Ruvano's chambers and eventually kill him. I repeated them as she wanted until I knew ever step by heart. However, I wasn't really comprehending any of it. I could barely even think at all. I just wished I could wake up from this twisted nightmare and go back to the way things had been before.

"You will get him to trust you," Nikelle was saying once again. "Once he drops his guard and you are alone with him, you will strike. But you must make sure you kill him with a single blow. If he lives to identify you, we will both burn as assassins. Once he'd dead, toss aside the dagger and call to the guards. Tell them that the assassin returned and finished what she started the other night. Point them to an open window and tell them that she fled before you could do a thing. Let them see how distraught you are. They will never suspect you. They will let you go without trouble."

Before me, I held the feeble blade that I'd just summoned in to existence. I tried to imagine it piercing Sir Ruvano's shapely chest and watching the life drain from his eyes. Would he cry out, using his last breath to question why I'd betrayed him? Or would he simply fall dead, leaving me to forever wonder what his last thoughts were?

Nikelle swatted my arm, forcing me to unlock my elbow -- as she'd been trying to instruct me to do for the last half hour. "Remember, you do this to preserve your kingdom," she said. "Love has no place in what you do today."

"Love!?" I sputtered. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you in his bed with my own eyes."

"You -- you're mistaken...that had nothing to do with love!"

There was no way I could possibly be in love with Sir Ruvano. That bastard used me as a human shield just to save his own skin. At least I thought he had. Truth to tell, the events of that night were so muddled in my head that I wasn't entirely sure what exactly had happened. But even though I HAD been in his bed (the very thought of which caused me to blush a bright shade of crimson), that did not mean I loved him. It had merely been for the money.

But why then did my hand shake every time I thought of plunging that dagger into his heart?

No, love had nothing do with it. It was simply that I was not a killer. I'd never killed anything before in my entire life. I didn't want to start now; not for any reason.

"No matter," Nikelle said. Going to several traveling packs that were laying to one side of the room, she pulled out a large towel which she spread on the ground. "Rest now. The hour has gotten late and we've done all we can. Soon, you will have to go to him and finish what we've started here."

I was too tired to complain. I collapsed on the towel she'd laid out and wiped the sweat from my face with another. That underground chamber had gotten rather warm in the time we'd been down there. She also produced some food and water which I greedily swallowed down.

Sitting behind me on the towel, she said, "Take off your clothes."

"What?" Her voice had been almost tender -- certainly more kind than I'd ever heard from her before, but her request still gave me pause.

"We need to get you ready. We can't have you going to Sir Ruvano looking like this."

Why did the thought of having him see me dressed as I was, dirty with sweat and grime, suddenly fill me with a sense of deep shame?


"Don't worry. It's only us girls here."

Hesitantly, I let her remove my shirt, pulling it over my head, gently guiding my long hair out of the way. For some reason I could not fathom, I found myself turning from her, shyly shielding my breasts. There had been times in the past when the two of us had spent hours together without a stitch of clothing between us, but this was somehow different. With my pants cast aside, I knelt there on the towel with my back to Nikelle, my cheeks a constant rosy shade of red. My long hair tickled my back as she gathered it up and lifted it over my shoulder.

"I think I may have something that will fit you," she said as she scrubbed my back with water and perfumed soup she's taken from the packs. I couldn't help but wonder if those ancient busts looking down on us had ever seen such a sight before in these venerated halls. "It might be a bit snug across the bust but it should be fine otherwise. It's strange, though, I could almost swear that you weren't this tall the first time we met."

"That's because I wasn't."

"More of Master Oringel's magic?"

"You still don't believe I'm really Mathis, do you?"

When she replied, her voice was distant. "I'm not sure what to believe any more. A spell like you describe might explain why my dart missed. And earlier, I DID sense your presence in Mathis's room even though you weren't there."

"But I was there: as Mathis" I was too tired to argue so my words came out sounding flat. "Not that any of that matters. You're only interested in carrying our your orders."

"My orders come directly from the Old Woman of the Mountain." As she rubbed my shoulders, the slippery soup and her soft skin glided smoothly across mine. "It is her responsibility to interpret the currents of fate and use that information to guide our actions. We do not always know what direct effect our missions will have on the outcome of any event, but I have learned to trust my orders."

"Even if they mean forcing me to kill an innocent man?"

"Sir Ruvano might very well be innocent," Nikelle agreed. As her hands worked their way across my back, I could feel some of the tightness fading away from the muscles she was kneading. "But like a single domino removed from a chain, his death will surely prevent the much greater evil that is undoubtedly coming. I've told you, this is for the good of your kingdom as well. In the time I've been living here, I've come to think of this place as my home. You must believe me when I tell you that you would not want to see it corrupted by the wikedness of the Mordengern."

What reason did I even have to believe all this talk about mysterious alliances with foreign powers? Nikelle represented a foreign power herself. Even if she was telling the truth, I wasn't sure I could do what she wanted. Despite what she thought, I was not a murderer and I had no obligation to her organization.

However, as she continued massaging my weary muscles, my eyes drifted closed and the only thing that escaped my lips was a soft sigh. Having her soft hands slithering across my skin was putting me into such a deep sense of calm. I might very well have dozed off if she hadn't reached around from behind and cupped one of my breasts. Even then, it wasn't until she lifted it slightly and let her fingers brush past the nipple that I opened my eyes.

Gently, she laid her head on my shoulder. "I wouldn't wish this burden on you if I could help it, Stephanie, but I have no choice." I then felt the familiar press of her soft lips on the side of my neck. At the same time, her other hand began sliding down my stomach.

"Nikelle..." I breathed, turning my head to face hers.

"Shhh..." was all she said.

She squeezed my breast, her delicate fingers softly pinching the nipple. Despite myself, I let out a quiet moan. After the way she'd treated me this afternoon, and the things she still wanted me to do, I shouldn't have let her, but it just felt too good. I leaned back against her, feeling her breasts press against my back. As she continued rubbing my breast, her other hand continued snaking its way down my body until it arrived at the warm little mound between my legs. The moment I felt her fingers stroke the puckered folds, it sent a tingling sensation shuttering through my flesh.

With one hand she massaged the length of my pussy and with the other she expertly teased my stiff nipples. I let out a another sign, louder this time, biting my finger and closing my eyes. I could feel her body undulating against mine, bringing her manipulations into a perfect rhythm with my body. Her gentle touch was so much more intimate than Sir Ruvano's had been. She knew exactly where and how to touch me in order to bring forth the most pleasure from my not-entirely-willing body.

It wasn't long before my hips were bucking against her fingers, the soggy wet squishing sounds of my pussy echoing around the chamber. I could feel the convulsions build until they washed over me in wave after glorious wave. Instead of the thunderous climax of before, this one was calm and gentle -- like getting washed away in the current of a lazy river -- but still no less exquisite. I melted into Nikelle and she continued her ministrations, prolonging those incredible sensations far longer than I ever could have thought possible.

It seemed like forever before I came down from that incredible high. I felt warm and calm and more alive than I'd ever felt before.

Afterward, we hardly spoke. Nikelle finished bathing me and then helped me dress. I no longer tried to resist or make her see reason. Regardless of all the times we'd shared, her duty obviously came first and I was nothing more than a tool to help her complete it.

The dress she provided me with was considerably more conservative than the last one I had gone to Sir Ruvano wearing, but still of better quality than an everyday servant's. The main color was a dark royal purple. Yellow side panels that came up under my arms and were cinched tight at my sides with laces that acted like a built-in corset. The sleeves were long draping things that reached almost to my knees and were always getting in the way. Meanwhile, the neck-line hung low off my shoulders and left me feeling like the whole thing was going to slide right off my body at any moment. It also left the red mark on my breast clearly visible. Hopefully, no one outside of myself and Nikelle knew its importance. In the intricately folded lengths of fabric that made up the bustle, there was even a special hidden pocket for holding the blood dagger hilt. Nikelle assured me that it was easy to access in a pinch but completely undetectable to all but the most thorough searches.

Thusly cleaned and dressed, my cosmetics and perfumes applied, and my hair neatly arranged, Nikelle decreed that I was now ready.

As the time to get underway had grown near, I began to toy with the idea of simply telling Sir Ruvano everything and throwing myself on his mercy. Surely the capture of a true Blood Dagger would have to be payment enough to ensure my continued safety. Perhaps he'd even reward me. However, Nikelle's next words left me wondering if she might have been able to read my mind.

"You may think of betraying me," she said, "believing that since I can not get to Sir Ruvano, you would be safe in his custody, but know this: the reach of the Blood Daggers is far and our memory long. Even if I do not live through this, there are others who will continue in my place and ensure that vengeance is carried out on any who betrayed us."

She certainly knew how to give a peep talk. Although, truth to tell, without such a dire warning, I wouldn't have been able to go forward as she wanted me to.

Before sending me on my way, she leaned in and kissed me. Our two pairs of soft, feminine lips pressed together for several long moments. There was something exciting in that action, infinitely more sensual than kissing a woman as a man.

"Good luck, sister," she said. "You have your mission, now go. May your blade strike true."

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