Caught in Darkness Ch. 07

"My sister is a fool." She growled. "But the Charmer is a flower with no thorns. This cannot be so." She scowled at The Unkillable.

"We are agreed. Had I not seen it myself." The Unkillable sat lounging in a stuffed chair with his booted feet propped up on the back of one of the Twins. "What will we do with this one?" he looked down to the once noble lady know kneeling on the ground to serve as his footstool. Her once elegant dress had been torn and shredded disgracefully.

"Put her in the cage with the pale devil. Let them strangle each other for a taste of your cock. I care not." She waved her hand dismissively and left the room. "I will light a candle for my sister. Do not disturb me." Once she had left, The Unkillable leaned forward and lifted the tear streaked face of The Deliquescent.

"You see? She doesn't even care about you. But I do. I saved you." He smiled. She couldn't look him in the eyes, but kept her face towards him. "I would have saved your sister too, but she was killed outright in the first attack." He let go of her face. "Hmm, but my wife had a good idea. You should meet the pale bitch, and use your powers to steal her secrets. My wife's sister, kept her for a reason. I want to know why. Do that for me, and I will avenge your sister, so you can reclaim your House."

The Deliquescent barely nodded in agreement.

* * * * *

The household was on alert. The soldiers manned the front gates and every entrance to the compound. The stone mansion had been chiseled out of solid rock into the mountain side of the volcano interior. It was very defendable, but their numbers were very limited. When the Majestic did not return, the alarm had been given and preparations were being made.

The Majestic's personal attendant sat huddled in the corner next to her mistress's bed. Her shoulder length crimson hair covered her face as she wept nervous tears. She wore a plan servants dress; it hand one long strap over the right shoulder and ended in a skirt at the knees. Her petite form was toned and capable, but still looked more fragile than she was. The news had hit her hard and she was half between a state of grief and a state of panic. She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to comfort herself as best as possible until the end came. If her Lady truly was dead, the council would come for them and make them all slaves to be sold to other houses -- but her mistress had given them other orders, they were to fight anyone who came to the death. Even now, this grieving serving girl clutched a thin slender knife that curved elegantly. The edge was razor sharp and meant for the smooth removal of hair, but it could easily remove other parts. The door opened and a figure she did not expect entered with a woman in his arms; it was her mistress's pet human wearing a shredded skirt. She did not recognize The Majestic at first, she was dirty and her long mane of hair was mostly gone. But when she did, her heart jumped but the panic still remained.

"Draw a bath." Mule commanded, as he brought the body to the bedside. The serving girl got up and moved and did immediately as she was told. Steaming water flowed from a wall fountain and gathered in a basin drain from the far side of the room. She gathered it into a silver bucket, and used this to fill the Majestic's lavish white porcelain garden tub.

"I heard no alarm." She stated with a scowl. "How did you make it in? Does the house know?"

"The same way I came in the first time." Mule grunted as he fought to undress his mistress. "And no, and it is for the better. The Majestic came home of her own, she was not carried by a human." He clarified for her. She paused a moment mid-fill, as his meaning sunk in, and then quickly resumed filling her bath. Mule carried his half-conscious mistress over to the warm water and gently set her into the tub. The Majestic settled right into the water, and her head rested on the curved back. The girl kneeled behind her and pulled her head back gently to pull what remained of her hair over the edge of the tub. Then she started to cry.

"Why?" she sobbed. "Who did this?" Mule paused, deliberating on his answer before her next question caught him off guard. "Who did this to her hair? Who would mutilate her so?" she cried as her fingers ran through the short remains of the Majestic's once impressive head of red lockes.

"I did it to save her. Her hair snagged as she fell, and she hung by it. She was easy prey for the monster that would have eaten her. I had to cut her free." The girl didn't take solace in his words, and only wailed more. Her emotional state was quickly deteriorating as she kept clinging to her Mistress's scalp.

"Then she shall have mine!" she growled through gritted teeth and brought that razor knife to her own forehead. Crimson squirted as the blade sliced through skin and flesh down to bare bone. Mule jumped a moment too late and caught her hand before she could maim her scalp even more. Blood gushed and she cried out in pain as the sensations hit her. But it did little to stop her fury. "You did this to her!" She screamed and struggled to regain control of her knife. He slapped the girl hard across the cheek. She tumbled to the side with such force she spun onto her back when she hit the ground. The blow left her stunned, and the knife skidded across the floor. Mule straddled her chest, pinning her arms with his legs, and bore his weight down on her upper arms. He reached behind him and ripped at her dress until he had a good sized wade of the fluffy fabric in his hand. He placed it to her forehead and pressed down hard to stop the bleeding.

"I will only say this once." Mule started. "I need the Majestic alive, and restored to her former glory. But I do not need you in order to accomplish that." He said nothing else and the two stared at the other as the intensity of the moment waned quickly as the pain of her injury settled into her brain. She her eyes rolled back and she closed them as she fought against the agony, her face started to sweat.

"I need a needle and thread." He hissed through his clenched mouth. She pointed to a small cupboard next to a large floor pillow. Mule slid off her hands and grabbed one to place on her bandage. Inside the cupboard he found her tools; sewing instruments for mending the Majestic's clothes, small silver instruments for hygiene and grooming, and an assortment of vials with oils and liquids in them. The serving girl rolled on her side and clutched her forehead. Mule threaded the needle and knelt next to her head on the floor.

"For you, this will hurt." Mule growled. She flinched when she understood his intentions. Mule had a towel from the cupboard and draped it over her small body. One arm cradled her head and he lifted her upright. She moan sickly, and the sudden motion made her eyes roll back into her head. The effect was immediate; her short labored breaths stopped, and her hands went limp -- she was out cold.

Mule took his cue and quickly pulled the cloth off. A good size section of her scalp the length of his finger had been shaved off in that one stroke; it was an ugly wound. Yet, with her fainted, her blood pressure dropped and the wound was barely bleeding. He worked quickly, pinching the flesh together with one hand and running the needled through with the other as her head rested on his shoulder. Unconscious, she barely registered it and he was free to work quickly. Once finished and tied off, he inspected his work, and used the needle to pull out hairs he had sewn ingrown. Satisfied with the stitches, Mule ripped off a longer piece from the bottom of her dress. One piece he wadded up into a pad, and the other he used to strap it in place. Complete, he picked up the girl and laid her down on her back with her legs hoisted over his shoulder. One hand held them up, and the other squeezed her neck just enough to make her cheeks turn rosy -- a moment later she stirred awake and groaned. His hand left her throat to inspect her scalp. She muttered incoherently as her eyes opened and tried to figure out where she was. She sobbed and clutched her head finding the bandage there, realization came back to her. Mule put a hand on her chest to keep her lying on the floor while he held her legs up.

"Why?" She managed to breath out amidst deep, pained breaths.

"Its easier to explain a cut, than a dead body." Mule smirked. "Time is running out, and we have work to do. Can you clean this up? Can you pour the Majestic a bath?" He nodded his head to the mess they had both made bleeding over the floor. She looked up at him and nodded slowly. "What are you called?" Mule said.

"The Obedient." She whispered. "What are you?"

"The secret weapon." Mule said with a smile. "But I am named Mule. There is something I must do now. Do not fight me on it. You and The Majestic are suffering from the Thirst, I intended to extinguish it." His comment caught her off guard, and she stared at him long and hard. A mix of emotion welled up into her cheeks; embarrassment, anger, indignation, Murder. "It is for your continued survival, the Majestic has grown callous and wanton, and you took a knife to your own head." He let it end at that. The Obedient turned away from him and did not answer.

"How dare you." She muttered.

"I will do this. And if the Majestic disapproves when she revives, she may kill me for it. Then you may both taste my blood." Mule growled and got up.

"I will do this while she is unconscious, so that she will not have suffered through it. Does that appease you?"

"My lady took a husband once. She killed him for his impudence." The Obedient sat up and kept her hand on her wound. "If you can sate my thirst, I will permit you to service my lady." Mule was surprised by this, but the look The Obedient's face held irony. There was something in The Majestic's past that was dangerous for him, and he was walking right towards it apparently.

One the fall wall there was a fountain pouring a small steady stream of water into a porcelain basin on the floor -- a miniature waterfall. Mule went to it and washed the dirt and gore off his body. The cold briskness of it startled him, he expected a hot spring in this humid land. He dunked his head under the flowing water and welcomed the refreshing sensation. The coldness constricted his blood vessels and returned a feeling of vigor to his weary body. A hand on his back startled him and turned around. Firm hands took his cheeks and brought his lips down to hers and she kissed him. They parted and she looked into his eyes, judging him.

"For returning my lady, I will reward you on her behalf." The Obedient said softly, her hands started to play with the back of his neck. "Do not take me lightly, this wound is superficial. I've killed many lovers that lowered their guard, before my lady bought my service." Mule recognized that sense of superiority of someone that was once higher than they are now. The Obedient was a taken captive from another house. Mule now found himself in a more uncomfortable position than before. The social rank and classes of the Zecarin's still confused him, and he blundered into a place he hadn't intended. "You have done The Majestic a great service, and you'll receive a just reward."

Her lips touched his nipples, and she tugged lightly at them with her teeth. The cold water came down over her head off his shoulders as she did. Inside her mouth her warm tongue enveloped and encircled the erect but tenderly. It made Mule visibly relax as allow her to take control. Then he understood her position -- she could relive her past glory with him and be a person in control. The Obedient had spent years under The Majestic's rule, and now for this brief moment she could now rule him instead. Her hands rand down his back and massaged the thick corded muscles of his torso. Eventually they came to rest on his firm buttocks and she grabbed him as she pressed herself against his body, pushing him away from the water.

The cold water fell over her and she lifted her head to welcome it. It soaked the fabric of her dress and washed the blood off her face and shoulder. It stung her wound, and she flinched, but a moment later her eyes opened and she stared intently at the human with a look of fierce lust. Her lips swallowed his, and her arms held him down to her level. He reached up to move the strap of her dress, but her hand intercepted him and pushed it aside firmly. The Obedient was in control, and he was subservient to her will now. She pushed him backwards until he was against the wall. The water cascaded behind her, the warmth of the room returned to their bodies, and not once did her lips leave his.

Now against this warm stone, she moved to his neck, and planted succulent kisses down to his chest. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling the cold taught muscle and twirling her fingers through his chest hair. Her lips found his nipples again, and her mouth warmed them as her tongue rolled around each one in turn. His cock had come to life below her, and pressed against her stomach through the remnant fabric around his waist. It did not go unnoticed as one of her slender hands wrapped around its length and started to stroke it slowly. Her palm came to rest over the head of his member, and her fingers stroked the neck of his cock as her palm rolled around his head. Mule moaned loudly.

The Obedient continued down his body as her tongue caressed the definition of his lower torso and ribs. She moaned lustfully from the taste of his skin. She reached the waistline of his clothing and ripped it off in one quick jerk. His throbbing member came free and thrust upwards at her face. She craved that hard piece of flesh, and she devoured it hungrily in her mouth. Mule's head leaned back against the wall as waves of pleasure shot through his system. The shock of the cold now mixed with the warmth of her mouth was too much for him to resist. Her tongue swirled around the smooth bulbous head of his cock each time she pulled it out only to devour it once more deep into her mouth. Her lips hugged it tightly as she slid it in and out; feeling every bump and vein along its length. Mule was lost to her power, he moaned deeply in pleasure from the sensations she was causing in his cock. Every time his hands roamed up to touch her -- her head, her ears, - to share in the pleasure she was giving him, she forced his hands away.

The Obedient wanted him now. She released his cock form her lips and pulled his face down to hers, her teeth took his bottom lip and bit it lightly. She turned around and took his hands to her breasts, her fingers moved his fingers and massaged her pert tits in a circular motion that made her moan Her backside rubbed up against that throbbing wet cock, and teased him with the cleavage of her round ass. The small Zecarin woman had to lift up onto her toes in order to ensnare that cock between her thighs and hug it next to her dripping wet lips. There she held him and slowly rocked back and forth as she continued to guide his hands on her breasts. She teased herself with it and with each stroke her panting became more heavy, and her moans more passionate. She took his fingers and made them pinch her erect nipples. They were unusually long and rolled around against the skin of her breast to the sound her small screams of pleasure.

When her lusting reached its peak, she rocked far forward, released his cock, and pushed back against him. The man's hard, erect cock pushed her wet lips aside and slid into her warm pussy. She screamed loudly, and made Mule pinch her nipples sharply. Yet the size difference between the two was significant, only half of Mule's hard member could fit inside the petite under elf. Despite that, her control was superb, and her dexterity amazing as she gyrated her hips and rocked her backside back and forth onto that hard shaft of his. It didn't take long for her first convulsion to wrack her body; when it hit she screamed loudly and buried as much of Mule's cock inside her as she could take. Yet even her intense orgasm didn't stop her, only paused their lovemaking. Once it subsided The Obedient resumed her masterful control of her hips and legs and worked Mule's hard cock inside her around in a circular motion.

Mule strained hard to focus on the cues she was sending his hands. The Obedient was taking complete control of their passion, and it fell to him to follow her instructions as she gave them. Suddenly she pulled his hands far out to her sides and leaned forward while still holding on. He was holding her torso up at a horizontal angle as she thrust her hips back. Mule could feel her tight petite vagina swallow more of his throbbing member to the point of his head rubbing against the inner wall of her womb. Once she reached that point she froze suddenly with a gasp of passion and held herself there. Then slowly she rocked her hips, making the large head of his cock rub back and forth against her inner wall. She continued like that as her screams and moans of passion built up to another body wracking orgasm. This one left her a bit weary, and she laid suspended by his arms as her breathing recovered. Slowly she slid off his member to the ground and pulled him down with her. At the last moment she tugged on his arm and sent him falling to the ground instead, only to find her now sitting atop his chest.

Slowly, sensually, she leaned down and kissed his lips softly. Her tongue pushed its way inside his mouth to dance with his tongue. Quickly she slid her body down his until she found that hard wet cock of his and impaled herself on it. The length of it prevented her from sitting upright, but lying on him, chest to chest, seemed perfect for the moment as she started to thrust her hips up and down on his shaft. She moaned into his mouth as the electrifying sensations in her pussy began again. The Thirst did not do the lust of Zecarin's justice. The Obedient endured another tremor throughout her body that left her arms shaking, yet did not seem diminished by her third orgasm. Mule had given himself over completely to her control, and where she wanted him is where he went. His hands were placed on her backside, and he caressed her lower back and rand his fingers along her spine. Her hunger left her panting, and her lips had to leave his for air. She propped herself up on his chest with her hands and gyrated her hips back and forth along his abdomen making that long cock slide in and out of her. She was lost to a frantic pace now, her past orgasms were just the precursor to something bigger that had built up in her body. This small Zecarin elf was lost in a rising rhythm of her body and no longer gave her lover instructions. The feelings inside her were reaching their ultimatum and her breaths came in short high pitched squeaks of pleasure. Mule could tell she was peaking, but something still remained to push her over the edge. On instinct, he reached up and took one of those long nipples into his mouth and bit it lightly.

The Obedient screamed in ecstasy at the top of her lungs. Her nails dug into his chest reflexively and drew blood. Her back arched, and her whole body locked up. Her eyes were open, but the orbs had rolled back into her head. Her whole being was enraptured by the orgasm flooding her body.

Then, a breathless moment later, she collapsed, utterly spent.