The Phoenix of Fa'alak Ch. 01

All characters in this story are age 18 or above. This is a fantasy story with a BDSM relationship featured within it. Because of that, I'm placing this in the BDSM category. Enjoy and know that there is another part forthcoming.

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I was born in the fifteenth year of His Majesty, La'ar's reign. My father was his chief war counselor. My mother was one of La'ar's most experienced warriors, until she died in battle, three years after birthing me.

When I was seven, King La'ar died, and the kingdom passed to his son, fifteen-year-old Kie'ran. Kie'ran was already considered to be a strong leader on the battlefield. With his father's death, King Kie'ran retired to the palace to rule his vast kingdom.

My seventh year also marked the beginning of my training as a warrior. Ely'kee, my trainer who had also trained my mother for battle, praised me. She said I had my mother's speed and agility for hand-to-hand combat.

I was ten when I faced my first battle-hardened army and eleven when I took down my first mounted warrior. My mother smiled at me from beyond the Lake of the Cryes'hes.

At around that time, I became known as the Phoenix. I, Desine'aa, had the ability to return from nearly impossible battles. What's more: I never lost a warrior. Being the daughter of my father, the most impressive firebreather of his generation, I could summon fire from my fingertips with a mere thought.

On the eve of my eighteenth birthday, I was summoned to court. The time had come for me to be mated, for me to become a vessel for the next generation.

As was customary, I was stripped bare, my body perfumed sweetly and oiled to a sheen in the firelight. My sleek limbs and svelte curves had served me well in battle, but I despaired now of enticing a man. Midnight dark hair shot through with fiery crimson highlights, the mark of a firebreather, was coaxed into a coil at the top of my head.

I looked into the vision glass, and eyes of ancient gold stared at me through the mist. As a warrior, my goals were simple and few: to fight, to live, and to conquer.

As a maiden on the eve of her maiden day, my future was more tenuous: I would be paraded before all of the men of the kingdom. The one of highest rank whose interest I piqued would take me—either as wife or concubine. My new lord and master would determine whether I could remain a warrior. I was subject to his caprices.

"Aye, lass, staring at that vision glass will not make your bubbies grow any faster. But don't worry, lass. Enough men will want to ally themselves with your family and your war chest," my nanny from childhood Al'areen suggested "helpfully."

Just yesterday, I had heard of a maiden being chosen by no less than the very picky Eil de Fri'lia. Of course, she was also gorgeous with huge—"bubbies."

With a heavy heart, I descended the stairs, heavy, cold stone, to the king's throne room. Usually, the maiden day mating selection was held in the castle keep. Out of deference to my father's position at court, mine was to be held in the more intimate throne room.

There was a chill in the air, and my burgundy nipples puckered. Embarrassed. I tried to fold my arms over them, concealing them, but the bodyguard who accompanied me put his hand on my arm, stalling my concealment.

His voice was deep, yet gentle. He wore the livery of the king, so his rank was roughly the same as mine. "Lass, trust me, don't hide your gifts where you are going. It's easier for young lasses as beautiful as you if you show what you are."

I nodded and let my hands fall submissively to my side. For a moment, his eyes that perused my curves frightened me. If one of the king's own guard ravished me where I stood, I had no defense. Their word, short of a countermanding edict from the king, was law. Coming of age after witnessing so much in battle—and as the men in my command enjoyed the women at the fringes of every encampment—lessened my innocence of the congress between men and women.

The moment of fear passed when the guard bowed to me and wished me luck in finding a mate. As he walked away, a part of me wished to bid him back. Lecherous glances, I was about to receive aplenty, but his had seemed layered with concern, respect, and regret.

To center myself, I thought of the lush forest where I had spent the first ten years of my life. A warrior does not allow herself to become homesick, but yearning for the forest was the closest I ever came to that undesired emotion.

My father met me at the heavy golden doors of King Kie'ran's throne room. "It is time, Desine'aa. I am proud of you, daughter."

As he opened the door, all of the men of the kingdom slanted their eyes to me. I had faced down countless armies intent on invasion, countless armies that stood between our kingdom and the conquering of more territory, but I had never had the urge to retreat.

It took everything in me not to flee from their regard. The look the guard had given me seemed platonic by comparison. Lechery. Hunger. Greed.

"Courage," I heard a voice whisper in my head, the voice of the kind bodyguard. He was a telepath! I craned my neck to find him, but I saw him nowhere. The king, also, was nowhere in attendance.

"Lady Desine'aa de Cisi'aea, daughter of Counselor Ja'iia and warrior General Pe'rea," announced the herald. "This lady is a renowned warrior in her own right, called the Phoenix for her ability to survive perilous battle situations. Her war chest is impressive, valued at 500 million grazans. As you can tell from her hair, she is a firebreather."

The crowd rumbled excitedly, probably from the amount held in my war chest, the booty from the battles I had won. Oddly enough, the men did not find my body abhorrent. The "kind" telepathic bodyguard filtered their thoughts to me. Some of their thoughts were admittedly creative; some were downright terrifying.

A question came from the back of the crowd. "As she has been long in the company of male warriors, how can we be assured of her purity?"

Al'areen spoke up. "I have traveled with her ladyship these eight years she has been in battle. No man has ever touched her with intent—ever." My nanny's word, coming from one of the oldest and most respected servant families in the entire kingdom of Fa'alak, was unquestionable. "I swear by the goddess of the two twin moons that she has remained a pure vessel."

My father opened the negotiations, as was his right. Five men strode forward. The first, Eldrick de Ca'bril, held property that adjoined my father's. He was older than my father by a good fifteen years; he had survived five wives. His mental fantasies frightened me most. I felt unclean for witnessing them, and my bodyguard felt shame for presenting them to me. My father, knowing his neighbor's propensity toward bloodshed during sexual relations, quickly turned him down.

The second to step forward was lower in rank than the first but had gentle eyes. Because others approached of higher prestige, my father rapidly dispatched him.

One of my warriors, Ria'lo de Gra'icre, approached as the third prospective mate. Higher in rank than the other two, he was also my age. My father and he conferred for a moment before the herald brought my father a message. A smile lit on my father's face, and he nodded, gesticulating wildly to the herald to make an announcement.

"All rise. King Kie'ran has claimed Lady Desine'aa as his concubine and fiancée. Everyone please depart immediately."

I heard the news with something akin to dread. Our king was thought to be a powerful, just ruler, but I knew nothing of the man or the passions that drove him. I had never in my life laid eyes on him.

And, now, I was completely and totally his.

My father and Al'areen were the last two to exit the palatial chamber. With a gentle kiss on my forehead, my father pressed something into my hand. "Your mother's ring," he choked, "the one I gave her at her mating selection. The king will take good care of you."

Al'areen was more effusive. "We were so worried, but you've been snared by King Kie'ran himself!" She noted my pallor. "What is it, lass?"

"Will he expect me to be an immediate courtesan, a seductress with her wiles?" My normal warrior yell was stifled into a high-pitched crescendo in my panic.

"Calm, lass. I have not heard what the king likes in his women; in fact, you are the first maiden he's taken to mate. Just—enjoy it. The mating bed does not have to be a place of torment for a maiden." With this last bit of wisdom, Al'areen embraced me and turned away.

I was left alone in the throne room. Was it wrong for me to wish it had been that kind guard who somehow managed to procure me as his mate?

For a few moments, I allowed myself the luxury of imagining being HIS. Long, muscular limbs, strong and protective, wrapped around me in my fantasy. I was tall for a woman, but he had towered above me as if I were nothing more than an imp, the tiniest of creatures. Bronze hair and piercing blue eyes, eyes that saw too much guiding a mind that sensed too much, tempted me.

Penentrating cerulean eyes that stared at me from mere inches away. I blinked. My guard—ridiculous to call him mine, but I could not seem to cease doing so—stood before me, clearly comfortable in his nudity.

"What are you doing here?" My voice, to my complete chagrin, was more a yelp than a warrior's battle cry.

He held his hand to my lips, staving off more questions. "It's alright, lass."

The guard lifted his hand briefly when he realized I would not scream. "You've got to go away from here! You can't be here like this, with me. You'll be killed!"

His response was a maddening grin. "No, I won't be."

Up until now, I was successful in not looking down. His body had already attracted me, already made me yearn in a way that no man's had ever made me ache. My eyes flickered, taking in the battle-scarred chest, bronzed in the torchlight.

Blushing, my gaze descended still further. Having caught several of my warriors at moments of undress or riotous mating, I had seen a man's part before. The craving to touch his, to kiss it, to wrap my hand around it was incredibly strong.

"Who are you?" I blurted, flushing with the heat from the torches and his piercing stare, despite the fact that my clothing was not on. With him, I was unashamed of my naked body; it seemed natural, somehow.

My guard cleared his throat. "I am a man of peculiar tastes. I believe the mating bed should be a place to unleash my darkest passions. As a young man, in my travels, I witnessed many sexual perversities that I wish to visit upon you."

"You cannot be serious! The king will kill you—"

"You misunderstand, my mate-bride. I own you. You are mine. I will take you any way I wish. And I can tell from your mind that you hunger for me just as thoroughly." I shook my head, my mind discounting what my heart and body knew would be his next words.

"I am King Kie'ran, your mate." He straightened to his full height.

My mind raced, categorizing things I should have recognized immediately. His regal mien was present even as he led me to my fate, a fate he must have orchestrated. Feeling duped, I stared at him mutely.

King Kie'ran seemed to find humor in that as he perceived my thoughts darting to and fro like silverfish in the lake deep in the forest. He nodded. "Yes, I did intend to have you from the beginning. You are my greatest warrior, and I wanted to see that determination focused on pleasuring me."

I sighed. Again, even though my vessel was pure, my mind was not. My eyes had seen many a mating, some rougher than others, but the pleasures my king, my Master, he corrected me in my mind, presented to me were beyond my ken.

His mind revealed to me what he required of me—not a mincing bow, not a low curtsy, but a kneeling of obeisance at his feet. King worship.

"Nay, Master worship, lass." Again, the image, and my limbs moved of his accord, not mine, to drop to my knees subserviently at his feet. He started to reach for my hair, ostensibly to loosen the coil, but he desisted his movement.

Two fingers lifted my chin, to allow my eyes to peer at him. "Take down your hair for me. I want no more concealment between us."

"Yes, Master," I replied, watching his blue orbs gleam as I gave the appropriate response. They glowed further as he followed my motions, my breasts lifting as I raised my arms to unrestrain my hair.

Inky black silk mingled with liquid fire that tumbled heavily down my back. It was verboten for a woman to cut her hair, so my hair teased the bottom curves of my ass where I knelt.

His hand reached down and tangled in my hair, rendering the locks into a state of disarray. One tress impudently clung to my right nipple, and Kie'ran flicked it off, almost dispassionately, as one would send away a glopbug.

I yowled, a wetness seeping from betwixt my bare nether lips, betraying my desire for him and the pain-tinged pleasure he granted me. His eyes alight, Master stroked the same nipple with a battle-roughened thumb and forefinger.

My voice purred low in my throat, becoming more keenly high-pitched as he steadily increased the pressure. Unable to stop my reaction, my body trembled as he expertly played with me, revealing previously banked desires.

I began the morning an asexual female warrior, bound to do my duty to my family and my kingdom as a female vessel. To produce, through mating, future generations. My mind ironically noted the context now: since meeting Kie'ran, I had become a panting wanton, intent on his pleasure and mine, regardless of what that entailed.

The forefinger and thumb on his other hand mimicked on my left nipple the pinching of my right. My breath whistled between my teeth as I shuddered. As his pinching became a crushing, my eyesight clouded with black dots. He lifted me inexorably up by my nipples until I stood before him, gasping through the pain.

"I am pleased, Desine'aa. Your ability to take pain as a warrior should, to seek it out as a pain mate would, increases my desire for you greatly." The kiss of tenderness on the forehead that he bestowed upon me belied his words and actions only moments before.

My stomach felt odd, fluttery, as if something momentous were about to happen. The last time I felt such a quavering, I was in battle at risk of being captured. Uncertainty was my greatest fear; warriors are trained not to fear death and, in fact, are taught that our life essence is offered up after our last breath to the god of the light.

But uncertainty terrified me. And the uncertainty pressing down on me now was not ignorance of what would happen, but instead the unknown of how it would feel and how I would react. From countless battles I had returned unscathed, but I knew I would bleed tonight.

Kie'ran studied me from his lofty height. With a hoarse shout, he called for a servant. A heavily garbed serving girl entered, carrying a golden tray.

The contents of the tray caused me some alarm. A long, thin needle of hard metal, axilium perhaps, glinted in the firelight. Some soft cloth created a cushiony bed for the needle. Beside the cloth, jangling a bit with each step the servant took, were two hoops. In previous battles, I had seen similar jewelry hanging down from women's ears. I relaxed, thinking this would not be so bad.

"This is Gi'eta, your maid. She is going to pierce you as I watch," Kie'ran's voice was a rumble in his chest.

"Pierce? Me?" I echoed, growing worried as Kie'ran grabbed my wrists and pulled them back behind me. My warrior strength struggled with his, but I was depressingly easily subdued.

I felt his nod shift the air over me. "Yes, my feisty mate. She is going to pierce your nipples, to illustrate to the world that you are mine, that you are loyal to me."

As part of my military training as a child, I had experienced pain for training's sake. This was different. I balked, but then thought better of it.

King Kie'ran had chosen me to be his mate and consort. After tonight's consummation, we would be wed in the eyes of the gods and goddesses that oversaw life on our planet T'sar. I was in the enviable position to be mated to our kingdom's great ruler, a man who was attractive, a man who made me crave his every touch.

To be marked as his, however barbaric it seemed, seemed a small price to pay.

Kie'ran felt the relaxing in my limbs that revealed to him my acquiescence. His nod signaled to Gi'eta to begin.

From her voluminous robes, Gi'eta withdrew a small vial. Uncorking it, she whispered to me, "This is to numb some of the pain, milady." Gentle fingers spread the salve over each nipple.

A languorous feeling settled over me. The herbs in the salve calmed me, numbing my nipples with a vaguely cooling sensation.

Dreamily, I felt only pressure when the needle punctured each of my nipples. I vaguely observed the blood that dripped steadily from my nipples that Gi'eta efficiently staunched. When the bleeding subsided, she threaded the hoops through my tortured nubs, locking each hoop with a soft "click."

"Leave us," Kie'ran ordered, and Gi'eta scurried away. Letting go of my wrists, he turned me roughly to inspect Gi'eta's handiwork.

The hoops glinted erotically. Kie'ran's fingers slid into the hoops and he tugged, drawing an aroused wail from me. He bent, brushing his lips against my ear, his breath warm and tickling, "Say my name, Desine'aa."

He tugged again, and I howled, "Kie'ran!"

In response, he stroked my breasts soothingly. I looked up, and his blue eyes bored into mine. He shadowed over me as his lips descended to meet mine in a passionate melding of lips and tongue.

It might come as a surprise, but a female warrior does not get kisses often. To be completely honest, I had been kissed with intent by a man exactly zero times.

He pulled back, wonderingly. Steady fingers traced my lips as if they were a priceless treasure, not two flaps of flesh. "Innocence?" he held the question on his tongue, as if allowing it unfettered access to the air might make the answer less affirmative.

I nodded, only a bit indignant of his probe of my mind to search for evidence to refute my answer. When he saw only that I had communicated the truth, he smirked.

"Innocent and all mine." His head swooped down, this time intent on plundering the depths of my mouth, and I opened to him, offering my teeth, my lips, and my tongue for his enjoyment.

He growled, a telltale slip of his desire, and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close to him. Not since a child had I felt so tiny, and never had I felt so cherished. I felt the aloof façade of my warrior attitude crack, but hold intact.

My sore nipples contacted with the muscular planes of his chest, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers slid down my back, cupping my ass, then spread my lips to mine for moisture there. I had plenty; my juices coated his fingers. One long, thick finger attempted to slide up my maiden's passage, but proof of my innocence thwarted its quest.

Womanly instinct led me to grind against his cock. Kie'ran held control for a moment...then another...before...he walked me over to his throne and buried in me to the hilt, sheathing his shaft deep within me.

Reactionary tears dribbled down from my eyes, and I scorned them. Yes, I burned as if torn deep inside, but the tears were more shock from his economical brutality than anything.

He waited, his body pressing me into the soft cushion of his throne, until my body relaxed beneath him, and I lifted hesitantly, seeking...something. Kie'ran roared his battle cry and plunged, possessing me, consuming me in a fire of our own making.

His fingers twisted painfully in my hair close to my scalp as his lips voraciously devoured mine. My yelp was swallowed as he breathed in my breath.

Tearing away from my lips, his mouth moved down my neck, releasing a trail of fire on the surface of my skin. He had breathed in my fire breather's essence! Flames danced down his back as my nails clung, scraping and then scratching a path of liquid flame.