The Emperor and the Temple Ch. 19

Days that change history can seem ordinary by morning's early light, for often there is little hint of the drama that may yet unfold in the hours to come. And so it was for Lady Cillah and her boy Kamhet, as they lounged peacefully in the palace room that had been provided for them, she lying sleepily on her front and he kneeling beside her, applying a fine aromatic oil to her skin, lovingly kissing and massaging her back and limbs. Earlier, Priestess Hanja had visited her mother and presented the oil as a gift, there being little use for such luxuries at the Temple now that its boys had been taken to the City walls. Feeling sad for her daughter, Lady Cillah had offered her Kamhet, but Hanja declined graciously, citing her duties at Ashala's side. And now, as midday approached, Cillah sighed and complemented her boy on his skills as a pleasure slave.

"That feels wonderful Kamhet and the aroma of the oil is indeed soothing, as Hanja promised."

"Your pleasure is my pleasure Mistress," said Kamhet. "Hanja is a beautiful woman, much like her mother, but I fear she does not care for me."

"Oh Kamhet, you charm your Mistress. But what makes you say that about Hanja?" she demanded, reaching back to slap him gently on the thigh. "She likes you well enough - I'll warrant all women do, for you are a fine piece of male flesh. Are you upset that she did not accept you as a gift this morning? Don't be, Kamhet! A priestess may only be pleasured by a boy who is of the Goddess, and even then he must be properly trained in the ways of service. I made my offer to her out of courtesy but I knew she must decline. Honestly Kamhet, my pet, I have no wish to share you with others, even my own daughter."

"But she knew me once, Mistress. The night before she took me to Lero, to that witch Javka."

"That was different, Kamhet. Hanja acted in the service of the Temple, may the Goddess forgive her. And do not speak that way of Javka! She was my friend, and a priestess. Sometimes you forget your place, Kamhet!"

"I beg your forgiveness, Mistress," he said and continued rubbing her back firmly through the slipperiness of the oil.

"Oh Kamhet, do you not find your Mistress repels you? I grow plumper in my middle age, and each day it seems I find a new wrinkle on my face."

"Not at all, Mistress," he replied. "I love you and crave you. I feel I would die if I were parted from you."

"That is the herb taking," she replied.

"Perhaps, Mistress. But it is how I feel. And besides, the herb ran out two moons ago; Kal told me."

"He did, did he? Well, I shall have words with him about that....Oh, now you make me wonder about him and the other boys. I hope they are safe. And as for the herb, perhaps its effects are permanent. I suppose we shall see. But I am assured that, for now at least, you love and adore your Mistress, which is how it should be."

As if to confirm her words, Kamhet parted Lady Cillah's buttocks and pushed his face between them, sliding easily over her oiled skin. He sought her anus with the tip of his tongue, finding it expertly and probing with the tip. She moaned in pleasure and delight as he began to use longer licks, mixing them with hard kisses, his lips against the rim of the opening, his tongue forming a point, piercing her in spite of the involuntary resistance.

"Good boy, Kamhet," she gasped. "You always know what your Mistress needs. Other boys have to be told. But you....you just know."

She allowed him to continue for a few minutes before pushing him away and spinning herself to lie on her back. Parting her legs and bending her knees slightly, she extended a finger to beckon him, before turning her hand to point sternly at her sex.

Obediently Kamhet lowered his face once more to her.

"You prefer this, Mistress?"

"I prefer both, Kamhet, as you well know. But as I only have one boy at my disposal these days I must alternate. Please begin, Kamhet! To completion!"

He began to taste her, at first with long, soft, loving strokes of his tongue, already finding her wet and slippery. She sighed and reached for his hair with her hand, caressing him, whispering words of encouragement. At first she remained perfectly still, but after some minutes went by, he noticed a regular flexing motion in her hips, a subtle pushing of her sex against his mouth and a barely perceptible tightening of her grip in his hair. Well understanding these cues from his owner, Kamhet increased the tempo of his licks and kisses, pushing a little more firmly against her sex with his tongue and lips. He was patient, for he knew Lady Cillah's preference - perhaps common among older ladies - for extending the pleasure of such worship. She would be in no rush to reach her peak, knowing there was a strong and obedient boy between her thighs, one who would not rest until she had been satisfied.

After a while, her movements increased yet again, and she began to vocalise her pleasure, although no longer in words but only in gasps and moans. He responded by once more increasing his efforts, now focussing solely on her engorged bud of pleasure, darting his tongue quickly around it while seemingly never losing contact with it, almost cruelly denying it any escape. Eventually she clamped her thighs hard over his head, which he knew to be a sign, and her fist in his hair would have been painful had he not been so engrossed in her taste, her aroma, her sounds of pleasure, and the pressure of her thighs, now quivering, against his head. He switched to hard, regular, licks, almost merciless in their intensity, and she screamed, the quivering being replaced by a single long crushing spasm of ecstasy, and in those moments he sensed her taste change, and her texture too, in a manner that he had become familiar with since she first took him to her bed. Eventually, she relaxed and tapped his head with two fingers, a sign that he should remove his tongue lest it become unpleasant against her still hardened and sensitive bud. Reluctantly he raised his head and rested it on his Mistress's abdomen so that she could once again caress his hair.

"That was very good Kamhet, I am pleased with you," she said. And then they lay together like that, relishing the closeness that exists between a Mistress and her boy after she has been well served and pleasured by him. And eventually, just as it seemed they would both doze off, she tapped him again on the head and said, "Let us get up, Kamhet. I am hungry and ready to venture out into the City. Look, it is a fine day outside."

Kamhet raised himself from the bed.

"Mistress...." he said

"What is it, my pet?"

He blushed a deep red, "I was wondering if I might be allowed...allowed to...."

Seeing his eyes go down to his sex, still hardened by arousal, Cillah sighed, "Oh Kamhet, you know how I feel about that!"

"Yes Mistress," he replied, disappointed.

"Kamhet, you look so sad! But boys that are constantly touching themselves are less focussed on the pleasure of their ladies. Any mistress will tell you that. A chaste boy is more eager to please, more submissive, more attentive to his owner, less selfish. And what lady wants her boy grunting and groaning, making faces and, worse, making a mess? It is not attractive, Kamhet."

Kamhet nodded and apologised. But Lady Cillah, seeing the disappointment still on his face, began to soften.

"How long has it been Kamhet? One moon? Well, perhaps our meal can wait a minute or two longer. But I want you to be quick; do you understand? What's that? No, you don't need to go to the corner like last time, I will do it for you here on the bed. A special treat for a boy that has been so pleasing. All fours! Now Kamhet! Push your head and shoulders down, raise your rump for me and spread your thighs. Quickly, do not seek to hide your jewels from your Mistress!"

As Kamhet got into position, Cillah noticed that there was a commotion in the streets outside the palace. Raised voices, and even the sound of bugles from the City walls. It had been occurring for a while, she realised, although she had only just become aware of it.

"What a noisy fuss they are making outside!" she said as she reached her hand through Kamhet's parted thighs from behind and clutched his sex. The sounds outside got ever louder as she began to move her hand up and down. And now there were shouts and loud footsteps throughout the palace, drawing her attention. She was only reminded of her business with Kamhet when he suddenly cried out, begging for her permission to complete, although she had only had him in her hand for less than a minute.

"Yes, of course Kamhet! Get on with it!" she said sharply. But just then there was a loud banging on the door, and she removed her hand instinctively, causing her boy to cry out in frustration.

"Lady Cillah! Lady Cillah!" cried the voice outside. "You must come to the North Gate immediately! And bring your boy, Kamhet!"

She turned to the bed and said, "Get dressed, Kamhet!"

****

That same afternoon, after a march of eight days along the Road of Lakes, the column bound for Casbur passed from Osta's realm into that of Queen Zantina. The crossing of the river Brigge was uneventful, it being little more than a stream, particularly in the high summer. But on the far side, where the road picked up once more, there was a wooden frame upon which the rotting quarters of men had been nailed, as if in warning to those entering the lands to the north. Artur noticed Lady Beshara had halted her horse before the display and he rode up the column to join her.

"Criminals? Heretics?" she asked him.

"Neither, Lady Beshara. Slavers. Cargian probably. Your kind are not welcome in this realm."

"Your insolence begins to fascinate me, Artur. I hope I am able to remember all your insults on that delicious day when I finally have you in my power. But there are so many! Perhaps I should write them down. And as for these unfortunate fellows whose parts are now mounted on this frame, I doubt they arrived at the head of an army."

"Indeed not," said Artur to himself as Beshara turned her horse and cantered away from him.

By late afternoon, the army reached a small town called Vilgen where it was decided, by Artur and Nadam, that they would make camp for the night. Nadam's Falcons, forming the head of the huge column, had arrived long before The Foreign Legion and had taken captives; ten men who now knelt in the square at sword point.

"Some townsfolk resisted us," said Nadam. "We caught them trying to destroy grain stocks, and they fought with my men. Many escaped into the forest, and some were killed, but these ten were captured."

There was a commotion behind them as Beshara came through the ranks of warriors in the square, pushing them aside and shouting in excitement, "They resisted, you say? By the laws of the Empire their freedom is forfeit and they shall be enslaved! Have them stand!"

Artur watched in disgust as Lady Beshara approached the line of dispirited men, coiled whip in hand. She began inspecting them, her hands on their bodies, shouting comments to her clerk who made copious notes and assigned each one a number. When a young man recoiled at her touch, one of Beshara's thugs stepped forward with a stout cane and beat him until his screams filled the square. Artur began to protest, but Nadam put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Best leave the Lady to her business, Artur. It is the Emperor's will."

But by now Beshara had reached the end of the line and turned to call Artur in excitement.

"Artur! Artur! Look at this last one! Is he not magnificent? Come here, I need you to be my interpreter."

"I want no part of this, Lady Beshara," he replied.

"Shush Artur! You know my brother means you to be of service to me. And still you will not help? Very well, I shall take Javi as my assistant. Javi! Javi! Come here! Where is that boy?"

"Leave him be," sighed Artur. "I will help you."

"This pretty one here at the end of the line; have him remove his clothes!"

Artur approached the boy and spoke gently to him, "I am sorry my friend, you fought the army of the Emperor and now you are to be enslaved, along with your companions. You will be taken across the sea to a distant land. This lady here; do not defy her for she can be cruel. You must remove your clothes so that she can properly look at you."

The boy nodded to Artur and, expressionless, he loosened his garments and let them drop onto the stones around him. Beshara clapped her hands together in glee and moved about him, caressing his torso, rump and thighs, cooing in satisfaction and delight. Finally she slipped her hand through his legs from behind, seeking his sex, cupping it, feeling the weight of his jewels in her hand.

"Look, Artur! Although he must surely fear me, he can easily be aroused. What a specimen he is! Exactly what I hoped we would find in these wild lands of yours. A beautiful boy, ready to be properly trained."

She turned to her men, "Brand those nine but not this one. Put one of my collars on him instead! Artur, ask him his name!"

"She likes you, my friend. Perhaps it is a good thing. What is your name?"

Artur turned to Beshara and said, "Nikah. He says his name is Nikah."

"Nikah," she purred. "A pretty name for a pretty boy. Well, Nikah, you are going to Ahirik!"