(The Dark Servant)Midnight Matters by A. Ellas (young adult books to read .txt) 📗

then handed Virien a heavy leather flogger. Each of the twenty tails was no wider than a single fingerwidth, and each had at least two wooden beads attached.

Virien was liberal with the flogger, chuckling at Rak’s cries of pain. He aimed his strikes at Rak’s calves, thighs, buttocks, and groin. Virien knew he was causing the slave to feel pain, but somehow, that pain was transmitted to Virien as pleasure. His first lash across Rak’s package caused the slave to orgasm. Virien groaned as the slave’s ecstasy flashed through him as if it had been his own orgasm. With a delighted laugh, he sheathed himself in Rak’s body. He used Rak with savage thrusts, pulling all the way out each time, then ramming back in with great force.

Each time, Rak cried out in pleasure, his internal muscles clenching on Virien. The flogger struck Rak’s back and belly over and over, and he orgasmed from the pain once more. Virien enjoyed the slave’s pleasure, but that didn’t cause him to stop, but rather to redouble his efforts. By the time Virien was satisfied, there was blood trickling down Rak’s thighs, and the slave was liberally coated with bruises and welts.

“Gah! Blood!” Virien exclaimed. He fumbled for a blood amulet.

“In Zoth, that would be taken as a sign of total mastery over the slave,” Hasaviz told him.

“Clean me, slave,” snapped Virien. Rak dropped to his knees and licked Virien’s blood-streaked cock. “Make sure you get it all, slave.”

Cleaning the blood off had an inevitable result, and Virien thrust into Rak’s mouth yet again. He stepped on Rak’s cock and mashed it to the floor as he pistoned his pole in and out of the slave’s throat.

As his seed exploded down Rak’s throat, Virien said, “I haven’t climaxed this many times since Owain and I received that gift of slave girls. Too bad they were so fragile. That was before you took over.”

“The slave’s skill makes a difference. He is motivated to please.”

“The potions?”

“That is correct. The magic forces him to seek relief, and will kill him if he doesn’t get it. That ensures a properly motivated attitude. The only pleasure he gets is what his user gives him. If you don’t climax within him, he gets no relief. When a slave like this begs, he means it.”

Hasaviz led Rak over to the pleasure rack and strapped him down. “It is amusing to set a sex slave burning and then deny them relief. It’s used as a training tool, and to break unruly slaves like he was.”

Under Hasaviz’s tutelage, Virien brought Rak to a fever pitch, using fingers and the careful application of pain. Already broken once, Rak didn’t take long to break a second time. As the fires became unbearable, he moaned and lifted his hips towards Virien. “What do you want, slave?” purred the chancellor.

“Please master, take your pleasure in my humble body, I yearn to be dominated by your superior maleness and filled with your strength.”

With a smirk, Virien thrust into him at last, and Rak sang with the pleasure of it.

“Well, Prince Araken or whatever your filthy dark servant name is, you have certainly improved relations between our countries,” Virien chuckled at his own pun. “I imagine our trade will be stimulated, but not with Okyro.”

He fell silent, pumped a few last times, and climaxed, spilling his seed into Rak’s body yet again. Rak thanked him, then cleaned him, but this time, Virien’s cock didn’t rise up for more. “Hasaviz, how long to train a sex slave?” asked Virien. “If our king had a trained one to experience, it would be easier for both of us.”

“Years, to do it right,” said Hasaviz with regret. “But perhaps we can purchase a female sex slave for him.”

“Yes, we’ll bring in a female one for my unadventurous brother. Start the process,” Virien ordered as he tucked himself away and readjusted his clothing. “Even that will take some time.”

Hasaviz bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

Virien patted Rak’s head. “Thank you for giving me the correct view of sex slaves. You’ll tell no one of anything that was said in here.” He fished his fancy shoes out from under the couch, put them on, and walked out with a jaunty step.

Chapter Thirteen: Hunting and Healing

“I think we should already be in flight when Murson leaves, rather than you launching from the palace. What do you think?” Jisten sat on Scorth’s back. They had planned this very carefully, and Jisten secretly thought that Scorth had enjoyed their talks as much as himself.

Scorth launched from the palace roof. I think that’s a good idea. A speck in the sky is less obvious than a dragon leaving in his wake.

Jisten easily compensated for Scorth’s massive haunches contracting. Scorth powered straight up, until they were as high as he could fly. The air was cold and thin up here.

Jisten breathed in the cold air gladly. “If I migrated with my people, this wouldn’t bother me.” He checked his heavy crossbow as Scorth settled into level flight, circling the city. “He never varies his routine.”

Now we wait

, Scorth told him.

“Will you hear the noontime call-toworship carillon? It’s a beautiful melody.”

No, but I will see him , replied Scorth. We are much too high to hear a carillon. Jisten craned his neck this way and that, enjoying the view, even if he had no hope of seeing the sun priest. Scorth broadened their link and let Jisten see through his eyes. I am a sight hunter.

Jisten’s hands tightened on the harness as he adjusted. “Thank you, Scorth.”

You’re welcome, Jisten. There’s less shifting of mass this way.

It wasn’t long before the cream and gold clad figure emerged. Scorth focused on Murson immediately. He dropped a hundred feet. Jisten readied the crossbow. “Si’Yeni, bless my aim but not my bolt.”

Murson’s tiny figure mounted his miniature horse and the chestnut beast headed for the palace gates. Scorth turned on a wingtip to change their trajectory