They tortured me all day. Hours and hours, I begged like a whore for them to make me come, but they just drove me to the brink, then stopped. They injected me with more poison when they were done, worsening the torment tenfold. I humiliated myself just for a touch; not even a fuck, but a caress, a slap, a punch. Every part of me was electrified, my nerves raging beneath the flesh, my synapses overloaded with sensation. I wasn’t Prestira anymore; I told them as much. “My name isn’t Prestira, it’s Fifty-One!” I cried when they asked who I was. I pissed all over myself just because they told me to. I enjoyed doing it. I enjoyed the humiliation because it meant they were paying attention to me, feeling me, penetrating me. They pet my head and told me I was a good girl. They promised to reward me. They said they’d let me come if I did something for them.
They took me up to the captain’s cabin. They chained my wrist shackles to the floor and bolted my ankles shackles with them, forcing me into a squatted position. Master Timothy Two-Shot came over to me. I begged for his cock. He sneered, and like the wonderful master he was, he pulled out his stinking meat and smeared it across my face. I quivered with delight, aroused beyond description to be so degraded, to have his scent saturate my sinuses. When he finally pressed his tip to my lips, I nearly cried with relief. I took him with a desperation I’d never known, worshipping every inch of him with my lips, tongue and throat. I stayed pressed against his crotch, swallowing continuously, massaging him with the muscles of my neck as I slurped his base. He tasted like he hadn’t washed in weeks. I’d never tasted anything so decadent in my life.
“Well, well, Fifty-One, you’re feeling friendly, ain’t ‘cha?” He laughed, stroking my hair.
I nodded around my consumption, unwilling to relent even an inch of him. I’m just your filthy cum-slave, Master. Please reward me for being such a good whore!
“I have a special task for you.” Master Two-Shot said, “I need you to give a friend of mine some information. If you make her happy, she’ll let you come. Does that sound fun?”
I nodded excitedly, keeping Master’s meat in my mouth.
“That’s a good girl, Fifty-One. Now, I’m going to pull out, because you’ll need to answer some questions.” He withdrew, and I cried out in dismay. “Don’t worry girl,” Master said, soothing me back to complacency with a stroking hand, “we’ll fill up every one of your holes later.”
Master moved out of the way, revealing the body-length iron-framed mirror behind him. There was a woman’s face in the glass. She looked familiar, but I didn’t know from where. She was a high-elf, her hair nearly white, her lips sheened red, her hooped earring dangling from her pointed ears. She wore an extravagant cream dress split with a neckline that extended to her pelvis, revealing the enticing expanse of her silken belly, and the inner portions of her ample breasts. She could be my mistress if she wanted.
“Prestira Rasloraca,” the woman smiled kindly, “I’ve been waiting to meet you for some time.”
“She goes by the name Fifty-One now.” Master Two-Shot said to the woman.
“Oh,” the woman raised her brows, “I must commend you on your results, Captain. I thought her will would be stronger than this.”
“She was tough,” Master chuckled, “but they all break in the end. Ask her anything.” Master pulled out a chrome cone from beneath his desk. It had a dull point, and was about six-inches wide at its base, and nine inches long. He placed it underneath me, the cold metal point pressing against my hot anus. I shuddered. I wanted to sit on it, to have its full length inside of me, to feel it stretch me until I tore, but Master kept me in the squatted position, and I had to obey Master.
“Fifty-One,” the woman asked me, “do you know who I am?”
“Master’s friend.” I responded.
“That’s right,” she smiled, “but I’m also a friend of someone you know. Do you know Yavara Tiadoa?”
“Yes.” I said, barely containing my mounting arousal. Oh, the way the point felt against me, pressing into the delicate filthy flesh of my shithole, teasing the pain, the pleasure.
“Well I’m her sister, and I’d very much like to know what you know about her. Every time you tell me something I like, your master will let you sit a little deeper on that cone. Think of it as a game; do you like games?
“Yes!” I cried with need, my pussy dribbling nectar down my spread legs. I needed it!
“Good,” Mistress Leveria smiled, “where is Zander Fredeon?”
“With the Terdini at the Gorge.” I responded, looking up at Master hopefully. He pushed down on my shoulders, forcing the cold point hard into my center, opening me, entering me. I shuddered with delight, my rim stretching deliciously with the shaking depression of my squat. I could feel the strain now, the slow escalation of pain that made the pleasure so much greater. He kept pushing, and I kept moaning. Eventually I was screaming, opened beyond what I thought my limits were, but I’d been trained all day, and the poison that ran through my veins elasticized my vile exit. My head flung back, and I let out a euphoric squeal. Master stopped me half way down.
“Thank you Master!” I screamed.
I heard Mistress Leveria laughing. It was a sound that was simultaneously melodic and sardonic, like girl’s titter void of all compassion. Such cruelty she was capable of; oh, how I wanted to be the subject that cruelty! Her mirth waned, her lovely features relaxing back into their amused set, her blue eye twinkling with pleasure. Her hand had snaked beneath the hem of her dress, and she touched herself as she watched me. “What is your relationship with Zander Fredeon?” Mistress Leveria asked.
“He was my husband!” I cried, my thighs grinding together with need, their inner portions saturated with my secretion.
“Oh?” Mistress Leveria seemed surprised, “Then you must know everything about him.”
“Yes!” I cried, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”
“Why did he betray the Highlands?”
“He never worked for the Highlands! His only betrayal was that of Alkandi, and he’s been trying to fix it ever since.” I said rapidly, wanting to get this cone deeper inside me as fast as possible.
“How has he lived this long?” Mistress Leveria pressed.
“He was granted agelessness by Alkandi’s astral spirit! Alkandi hasn’t moved on, it’s why she keeps coming back!”
Mistress Leveria pondered that for a moment. “What is Zander’s greatest weakness?”
“Me!” I screamed desperately. Mistress Leveria nodded to Master, and he pushed down on my shoulders again. Oh, sweet pain, sweet pressure and pleasure! I lowered my head and watched the cone disappear into me, appallingly fascinated by the sight of my own defilement. How did I do it? How could I do this to myself? But I knew the answer, and the questions blurred from my mind as the inferno raged in me. Microtears formed in my rectum, sending felicitous bolts of agony deep in my nethers. I gritted my teeth against the whine that hissed from my chest, a plea with myself to stop, to keep going, to ruin my shithole until I died of the greatest torture a woman could know! I squatted deeper, voracious in my masochism, feeling the cold point part my tender innards and make way for the excruciation that followed. It pressed against my cunt from the other side, thinning the membrane between my holes until I thought it might rend. Master grew impatient, and pushed me all the way down. My face snapped to the ceiling, my eyes trembling and gaping, my ovoid mouth coughing on a scream I could not give voice to. My vision hazed red, my blood beat in my ears, and I was nothing, nothing but the purest note of sensation. Agony and ecstasy suffused, my insides ruptured and raped to uncover such heinous delights. I came down from the precipice with a screech, wracked with spasms, convulsing and thrashing like an animal. My anus was open and quivering with tension, crowning the metal base that I’d sucked so ravenously into my insides. Mistress Leveria gawked at me, her pinky finger tracing her agape mouth, her other hand doing its work beneath her dress.
“Fifty-One,” Mistress Leveria said though her groans of pleasure, “do you still love Zander?”
“Yes!” I moaned, “I never stopped loving him!”
“Would you kill him for me?”
“I could not! I would try for you Mistress, but I would fail! He’s too strong!”
Mistress Leveria narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said you were his weakness.”
“Because I’m the only one who made him forget about Alkandi.” My head was light, drifting through the stages of consciousness, “Because I was the only other one he ever loved.”
A thin smile curved across Mistress Leveria’s face. She nodded to Master.
Master pulled out a fistful of long thin glass rods. He ran the length of one through my slit, the tantalizing cold sating my heat, the glass surface smearing with my lust. I panted with need, my eyes begging, my bottom lip quivering. He grinned down at me as he slowly pushed the rod deep inside. I whimpered when it touched my cervix, the cold tip threatening to invade my deepest sanctity. He held it in place while he pushed another one to equal depth. The rods began to vibrate, and my splayed squatting legs began to tremble. Each rod he pushed inside only exacerbated the vibrations, sending shocks of pleasure deep into my nethers, through the channels of my sex and into the holy chamber within, desecrating even that. Soon, I was filled until my lover’s lips were stretched thin to hold their contents, and my pussy was quaking with the nine rods imbedded within, each one pressing against my bottom. So deep, so deep! My head fell between my shoulders, and my brow furrowed in concentration as I watched the lass rod slowly ascend into me. The bunch of rods left me gaping grotesquely, my cunt nearly a circle of birthing glass tips, each one leaking droplets of my detestable pleasure. A puddle was forming between my heels, running along the cracks in the floor and circling the base of the cone that pierced me. My vision was a monochrome of red, my mind a chaos of ecstasy so terrible that I thought I’d die of it.
“Thank you, Mistress!” I sobbed.
“No, Fifty-One, thank you.” Mistress Leveria smiled, “But I still need a little more information. Tell me about the powers Yavara has.”
“I’ve taught her indoctrination and telekinesis. She is born with inferno and arcane shield as well, but has not yet realized them.” My voice sounded like it came from someone else.
“And this transformative ability she has?” Mistress Leveria asked, “What she did to Elena?”
“I do not know that nature of it.” I was drooling freely, unable to keep my mouth closed.
Mistress Leveria’s brow furrowed. “How many men does Yavara have under her command?”
“The Terdini, but Zander told me that they were going after the Protaki next. There are five-hundred vampires in Titus’s clan.”
“All that I know of Mistress!” I said through gritted teeth.
Mistress turned to Master Two-Shot. “Captain, I will take charge of the interview from here on out. Your presence is no longer required. Please bring in five of your most loyal to assist me.”
“Just who in the fuck do you-”
“Thank you, Captain.” Mistress Leveria said tersely, a thin smile creasing her face. Master Two-Shot grunted, then stomped from the room. Mistress Leveria turned back to me, a wide smile on her face. I smiled back, my shoulders hunching in excitement as I heard five pairs of footsteps thundering from the other side of the door. The door opened, and the masters from below walked in. They were missing eyes, teeth and limbs, but their scars only made them more handsome to me, and the sadistic sneers on their faces may as well have been the gentle smiles of my lovers. I looked back to the mirror to thank my mistress, but she was gone. There was only me staring back from the mirror. I didn’t recognize myself. My black ringlets were in snarled tangles, my fair complexion was marred with weals, scratches and bruises, and my face was a raccoon’s portrait of abject lechery, glazed with myriad fluids. There was a flash of green behind Master Two-Shot’s death, and Mistress Leveria stepped into the room. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She was like an angel backed with the portal’s green aura, her subtle hourglass figure carried with the unmistakable elegance of royalty. She wore a kindly smile on her delicate face, but the truth was revealed in her sapphire eyes, full of cruelty and desire. I almost melted at the sight of her.
“Prestira Rasloraca, in the flesh.” She smiled at me, pacing around my chained figure. I felt her fingers graze my spine as she walked behind me, and I quivered. “I’ve heard so many stories about you. They say you were the true ruler during the last regent’s reign, making you the most powerful woman in the Lowlands. The most powerful person, actually.” Mistress Leveria stopped before me, tilting my chin upward with gentle fingers, “Now look at you, covered in piss and cum, and god knows what else. Do you like what these men do to you?”
“Yes Mistress.” I whispered, delicately sliding myself up and down on the cone, “I loved it.”
Mistress crouched to my level, her breath caressing my nostrils. “You’re just a bitch in the breeding kennels.” Her hand traversed my throat, “But this little doggy bites, doesn’t she? I’ve heard you’re a vampire. Is Yavara as well?”
“Yes.” I leaned into her touch, “We’re both day-walkers now. It was Titus’s condition.”
Mistress’s fingers traced my clavicle. “Are you both Drake Titus’s blood-daughters?”
“Yavara is mine.”
Leveria raised her brows. “I suppose she is in need of a new mother. Now, I know you can kill a vampire with sunlight, but my rangers operate in the daytime. Can you tell me any other ways you can kill a vampire that I don’t know about? Something that my rangers can use?”
“Nadi wood through the heart will do the trick.” I whispered, my entire focus naught but the tip of her fingers as they traversed my belly. Her hand stopped over my occupied womanhood, gingerly took the tip of one rod, and pulled it out of me. My pelvis tilted with the motion, relief suffusing with pleasure, my compacted rectum clenching around its burden.
“Now I understand why the say bitches are ‘in heat.’” Mistress Leveria muttered, inspecting the dripping rod in her fingers, “It’s almost too hot to touch with my bare hand.” She extended the rod to my lips, and I sucked it, tasting the decadence of my own perversions. She withdrew the rod, and let it clatter to the floor before me. She pulled out the rest with equal ceremony, making me taste myself each time. When it was done, my womanhood was left yawning and swollen, unable to contract to its former position. Used and loose, but oh, still so sensitive! I felt the vacancy like a removed limb, my body craving to be filled once more.
“Please Mistress!” I hissed, “I’ve been a good girl!”
“Such a good girl.” Mistress Leveria crinkled her nose affectionately. She stood to her full height, her expression set in an imperious glare. I withered beneath it, wanting and fearing her cruelty in equal parts. “Gentlemen, we have an unclaimed bitch in the kennels. Whichever stud marks her first, gets his pick of her holes.”
The five masters laughed as they undid their belts, and pulled out their cocks. I was dumbstruck by the sight of them. So many delicious cocks, held delicately in callused hands, their swollen heads aiming at me, their tips opening. Like a marble statue in a fountain, I was doused in five showers of urine, the hot streams bathing my breasts, belly, thighs and face. I lifted my head to catch a stream in my mouth, jutted my chest to let it splash upon my breasts, undulated splendidly as the acrid golden waste cascaded down my body, the rivulets traversing my curves to drip between my spread legs. I could’ve bathed in their degradation for an eternity, but their bladders ran out, and I was left soaked in my squatting position, my black hair matted to my scalp. I turned my eyes back up to Mistress Leveria.
“Thank you, Mistress.” I said with hushed reverence. The shower was a welcome diversion, but it did not sate my mounting need. I stared up at Mistress Leveria with big begging eyes, waiting for her word.
She stepped through the puddle of urine, then crouched before me, soaking the hem of her dress. “I’m going to unlock you shackles now. No matter how badly you want to, you must not touch yourself. Do you understand?”
She unlocked my shackles, freeing my raw wrists and ankles, letting cool air and hot piss mingle upon the flesh. The sting was sweet, but my attention was divested to the twin sapphire eyes before me. “Lean forward.” She whispered.
I did, groaning as I felt the cone slowly exit me, pulling on my clinging anal walls, the delicious pressure releasing in its wake. I let out a soft cry when the tip finally came out, and I felt the ship’s draft through the gape it left. I didn’t think it would ever close again. I hoped it didn’t.
“Turn around.” Mistress said gently, “Bend over.” She commanded when I did. “Spread yourself.” Her voice was edging with excitement. I rested my face against the wet floorboards, rocked forward on my knees, and opened my cheeks. “Can you wink for me, Fifty-One?” Mistress Leveria’s kind voice asked me. I smiled over my shoulder as I clenched and unclenched, the hole barely contracting, the pink cuff of my sphincter left loose and exhausted. I needed it to be filled. I needed as many cocks as possible to be pushed into it. I mewled pathetically, gyrating my piss-soaked ass before my mistress, my eyes begging for her reward.
“Please Mistress!” I panted, “I’ve done all that you’ve asked!”
“We’re almost there, pet.” Mistress Leveria said kindly, her fingers softly tracing my yawning holes, “but you have to do one last thing for me.”
“Anything!” I screamed. Her finger traversed the space between my holes, tormenting the swath of flesh with her gentleness. I whined and hissed, my hips rotating, my pelvis tilting to present. Mistress Leveria’s finger left my taint, the absence of her touch more prominent than the touch itself. She crouched before me once more, and placed her hands on the sides of my head.
“I’m going to take off these inhibitors now. I trust you to be an obedient pet, and not hurt me. Are you going to hurt your mistress?”
“I would never!” I said, groveling at her feet, “I would never hurt you, Mistress.”
“I believe you.” She smiled dotingly. I let out a pained murmur as I felt the stones leave my temples, warm drops of blood running down the side of my face. A connection immediately shot from my mind and forked in two directions. Two voices called for me, one female and one male. I recognized them, but I didn’t know who they were. They weren’t my master’s voices.
“Mistress, people are talking in my head.”
“Your blood-kin call for you. Ignore them.” Mistress Leveria took my head in her hands, her fingers so gentle, so cruel. My head felt like it weighed a ton, and I gave myself to her cradling touch. “The only voice I want you to hear is mine. Now Fifty-One, I need you to drink something for me.”
“No more poison!” I whimpered.
“No, no more.” Mistress Leveria produced a vial. I recognized it immediately, but I didn’t care. I opened my lips, and let her pour the contents onto my awaiting tongue. “Relax, Fifty-One.” Her voice slipped into my receptive ear, “There is nothing but the sound of my voice. Nothing in this mind of yours but you and I.”
I broke the connections between Yavara and Titus, filling my head with blissful silence. Leveria eased herself into a chair, and beckoned me forward. I crawled on all fours to her, my body drooping demurely, my hands splashing in the urine. She spread her legs and pulled up her dress, revealing the tight bald slit between her porcelain legs. So small, so delicate; nothing like my grotesque cunt. I dared not mar her flesh with my underserving hands, but with the utmost care, I dipped my face between her legs, and gently probed the pearl beneath her royal hood with my tongue. Her thighs quivered, and she hissed in appreciation. It was the greatest honor anyone had ever bestowed upon me.
“Good girl, Fifty-One.” Mistress Leveria said as she stroked my piss-soaked hair, “Look into my eyes while you taste me. Look deeply into my eyes.”
Mistress Leveria’s nectar was sweet, her voice was soothing, her eyes were bottomless wells, the universe wrought in their depths. I felt her presence in my mind. It was a soft tingling in the base of my skull, slowly seeping through my cerebellum like warm heroin. My tongue gradually worked back and forth along her slit, automatic motions tuned to a command that came from within.
Then I wasn’t there anymore. I was in a forest, but the rocks and trees were blurs beneath an orange twilight, casting the world in shadows and dim rays of sun. A songbird’s whistle echoed on the wind, fading in and out of clarity, becoming both near and distant. There was a silhouette in the fog, androgynous and indiscernible. A woman was speaking in my ear, whispering truths I could not know with my waking mind. They carved themselves into my cognizance, then scarred without pain. Transient thoughts moved over the wounds like a tide over footprints in the wet sand, and the idea that had been imbedded there was lost to me. The silhouette in the fog faded, but I knew now its purpose. I was to go to it when the deed was done. When what deed was done? Where was I?
“Good girl, Fifty-One.” Mistress said softly, “Here is your reward.”
One of the men came up behind me and drove his cock into my gaping ass. My over-sensitized body reacted violently to the intrusion; my back wrenching into an arch, my hips pushing backward to take all that I could. I was too loose. Though the man sated my need for invasion, he could not fill me. I needed more. Mistress Leveria sensed my need through our connection, and like a benevolent god, gifted me with what my heart most desired. Another cock pressed into my ass, stretching me, throbbing alongside his brethren, writhing in contest with him, rubbing against my vile walls. I cried out against Mistress’s slit, tears of ecstasy running down my cheeks. I slobbered my thanks over her petals, pressing my nose against her pearl to devour her insides. Her other hand entangled in my piss-matted hair, and she brought me deeper into her beautiful sex, giving me the privilege of serving her.
“Eat it, you filthy slut.” Mistress Leveria’s voice was a growl, but her gaze was compassionate. I complied with exuberance, pressing my face into her pubis until my chin was wet with her lust, and my tongue found the limits of its reach. I felt a man move beneath me, and I spread my legs wide to accommodate him, tightening the dual sodomy that churned my shithole into a spasming wreck. The man entered my cunt, sliding through my battered insides, pressing against his brethren from the other side. Oh god! My back dove into an arch, the weight of one man atop me, the hard press of another beneath me, by body encased in brutal, stinking, sweating man, my insides raped by it. I was in hell. I was in heaven. I ate Mistress’s pussy like a starving whore, each pass of my tongue coercing sweet music from her mouth. Such beautiful sounds to come from such beautiful woman. I knew I did not deserve to even look at her, but I would do my best to please her! I watched her lips part to moan, her cheeks slackening and flushing, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths, one breast peaking from her scandalous neckline. I wrote my tongue across her ceiling as I sucked her folds, translating my violent violation into a sensuous kiss. Her moans became sonorous cries, her head tilted back, she wrapped her fingers in my hair, and she came. Her pelvis elevated, and my face elevated with it, never ceasing the motions of my tongue as she saturated my chin, neck and breasts with her release.
When her breath came back to her, she eased back onto the chair. Her demeanor changed. She looked down at me, and instead of the cruelty and compassion, I only saw disgust. My heart sank. What I had done wrong? What could I do to fix it? Mistress Leveria pushed my face off her, and strode away.
“Mistress!” I screamed, “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what?” She asked as she lit a cigarette.
“I don’t know! I did something that you didn’t like, but I don’t know what!”
“You didn’t do anything.” Mistress said with a puff, “You’re just… disappointing. I had been an admirer of yours from afar, one powerful woman to another, but it seems there’s very little truth behind the legend of Prestira Rasloraca.”
“I’m sorry!” I screamed as the men rammed into me, “Will you still let me come, Mistress?”
“I don’t know, Fifty-One.” Mistress eyed me, “You’ll have to put on a good show for me.”
She walked over to me and held the lit cigarette threateningly before my face. Gulping, I presented my cheek. She chuckled, shaking her head. Then she grabbed one of my wildly-jiggling breasts and put the burning end against my nipple. I cried out in agony and ecstasy, my eyes watering.
“Thank you, Mistress!” I cried.
Mistress Leveria lit the cigarette again. She took my other breast into her hand and slowly lowered the burning cigarette to my nipple. My head flew back, and my eyes widened, quivering in my sockets. I mouthed my thanks to her, my vision veiling pink, then red. She smiled down at me, not like before, but with a look of pure contempt. She lowered her face to mine, and my heart surged, my mouth parting to except the kiss of my mistress, my god. She grabbed my face, pushed my cheeks together and spit in my open mouth. How could I have been so foolish to think she’d kiss me? I was her property. I was her little toy. I was grateful for her spit.
The other two men came forward. Mistress grabbed them by the cocks and guided them to my mouth. My cheeks bulged as I tried to accommodate them both, my tongue slithering between their shafts. Mistress put another cigarette out on my back. My muffled scream sounded, my body shivering from heel to crown. The poison in my blood coursed through me, precluding the tide that rose from my nethers, the tide becoming a wave that built, and built, and built. I danced between the pressing bodies of my partners, writhing and wriggling, indulging in the gluttony of man. So much cock, and all for me! They grunted and growled, squeezing my ass, hips and breasts, pulling at my hair, slapping me. I gurgled around the men raping my gullet, each one taking their turn, bulging in my throat. Use me, masters. Use me like I want to be used. Fuck me to death!
I was at the precipice, cresting before the fall, but I couldn’t come yet! I looked frantically over at Mistress Leveria, waiting for her permission. She smiled at me. She adjusted her dress and walked toward the portal. She wasn’t going to let me come. She lied to me! Despair like I’d never know filled me, and I fell limply between my master’s bodies, tears pouring down my cheeks.
Mistress Leveria turned around as she strode through the portal. “Give the bitch what she wants.”
I gazed gratefully at her. She gave me a wink, then walked through the portal. It disappeared behind her, and I was left with my masters.
They ravaged me with brutal avarice, each man trying to tear his piece from me. I screamed and gagged, my body convulsed and thrashed, the men gripped me in my supple places, squeezing until it hurt. Their cocks pulsated and throbbed, stabbing into me with a fervency, turning our lust into a display of flailing hair and jiggling flesh. The pressure in my nethers grew to unimaginable heights, ballooning eternally, never stopping, never dissipating. I was a slave to it, awash in the sensation of the now. A whole day’s worth of torture came to a head, and the dam within me burst. I hyperventilated, twisting and wrenching, kicking and heaving to expel the ecstasy too great for my mortal body. I hardly noticed them coming inside me, pulling out to splatter my flesh, my face, my hair. I was in my own world of sensation, the waves cresting and crashing one by one, surging through me all the way to the fingertips.
The feeling waned. My heart slowed. My mind regained itself. I wasn’t Fifty-One; I was Prestira Rasloraca. I savored the post-sexual dopamine rush as the men moved from me, leaving me splayed and leaking on the floor in a puddle of my own making. I spit out what was left in my mouth. My hands were quickly forced behind my back and my fingers twined together. The gems were driven back into my temples. I was too weak to protest. They would just do the same thing tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. I was myself now, but the moment they stuck me with that drug, I’d turn back into their slave. It was hopeless. I had just told Leveria everything she needed to know, and more. There was a blank spot in my memory; what had happened then? I searched my mind as the men bolted my shackles to the floor. Then they left, and Captain Timothy Two-Shot walked in, unbuckling his belt. I didn’t acknowledge him as he walked toward me, his erection standing high. My mind was still searching for the missing memory when I numbly wrapped my lips around his cock.
What the hell did she do to me?
I saw the connection between Prestira and I. I screamed her name, but she didn’t answer. I locked my eyes on the horizon, following the path of the connection through the waves. I saw the lights of the ship ten miles off. The connection disappeared a second later, but I had my target. I shot above the water like a missile, the air parting in front of me as I forced it forward, the water opening below me like a chasm. I closed in on my target in barely a minute, then stopped above the topsail. A pirate saw me and sounded the alarm. It didn’t matter. I felt the power coursing through my veins, teeming with my wrath. I dropped onto the deck. A volley of arrows shot for me, and I stopped them all mid-flight. I turned them around, taking a moment to savor the horror on the men’s faces before I fired. Ten bodies dropped.
The hatch opened, and the slavers poured out. Five dozen it seemed, making a circle around me, baring their jagged steel in the flickering torchlight.
“Put yer fuckin’ hands up!” One of them shouted.
I lifted my arms overhead, and the ship lurched to a sudden stop. Men flew across the deck, crashing into each other, making piles against the railings and ballista. Their moans of pain sounded from everywhere, cries of ‘we’ve run aground!’ and ‘Captain!’ being shouted from the rafters above. For a moment, it was like they’d forgotten about me. Then a deep groan emanated from the bowels of the ship, and there was silence. All eyes looked to me. I could feel every board and nail that held the craft together, ever rope and knot that tethered it. I could feel the keel of the ship. I grabbed it with my mind, and pulled upward. The ship shook violently, vibrating as though grinding against a reef. Men cried out and charged me, then stopped. The ship lifted from the water. I strained under its weight, feeling the burden tax me of my energy, but the vessel ascended nonetheless. Seaweed and port streams flowed from the hull to splash the water’s surface below, the dribbled to silence. The men gawked at me, horror and awe writ across their faces. They dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, begging for mercy. There would be no mercy. I planted my feet firmly onto the deck, and rotated the ship. The slavers clung to every mast and handle they could grab onto. They dangled as the ship turned completely upside down in the air. They begged me to stop, they pleaded with eyes full of panic. I just smiled back, and watched them fall. One by one, the men dropped, screaming into the crashing waves a hundred feet beneath me. Once the deck was empty, I turned the ship upright. I kept the vessel suspended in the air as I descended the steps of the hatch.
The hold was filled with women, all of whom were secured to the floor with shackles. They looked at me with glassy eyes, not sure what they were seeing. Prestira was not among them. I walked up the stairs and to the cabin. I opened the door to find Prestira strangling the captain with her shackles. She looked like an animal. Her racoon-eyes were wild and bulging, her split lip bared in a snarl, her desecrated body rigid with tension. I let her have her kill. Blood began to gurgle from the man’s mouth and flow from his nose. The vessels in his eyes burst. He choked out his last gasp, then died staring at nothing. Prestira collapsed onto the deck, sobbing into her folded arms. I ripped the shackles from her with my mind and pulled her into an embrace. She vented into my arms as I gently stroked her back, my fingertips running over welts, burns and lacerations. She was covered in filth, her wrists and ankles were raw, her knees and elbows were scraped and bruised. I held her firmly against me, murmuring soft love into her ear as tears ran down my cheeks. I touched the gems on her temples, and paused, afraid of what I would find in her mind. Then the shame of such cowardice compelled me, and I pulled the gems from her temple and was flooded with her thoughts. Whips, chains, wax. The rough wood of the deck, the snarl of a human man. Pain. Needles, horrific desire, unspeakable debasement. An elf woman’s face. Leveria had been here. She had coerced information from Prestira. She did something horrible to her. Prestira cried her regret. She said she was weak. She was sorry. No. I was weak. I am sorry. “I am so sorry, Prestira.” I hissed.
She cast a healing spell over body, and her flawless beauty shined from her. But I could see the scars plainly behind her eyes when she tried to put on a brave face. I let her have her pride. She told me she had to free the slaves from the hold. I told her to send them to Ardeni Dreus; this was their ship now. They could sell it and rebuild their lives with earnings. “Tell the high-elves that the Dark Queen freed them. Tell the dawn-elves they’ll always have a place in Alkandra.” Prestira left me, needing to find her strength in solitude. When the door closed behind her, I looked at the mirror. I looked at it for a long time. I knew I shouldn’t, I knew it played right into her hand, but I couldn’t stop myself. I pressed my hand against the glass. An extravagant empty room shown on the other side. I recognized it with a violent pang of nostalgia; it was my father’s office. No, not Father’s office. Not anymore.
“Leveria?” I called softly.
“Leveria,” I called, “it’s your sister.”
The door at the far end of the room creaked opened. Leveria’s profile stood in the threshold, a plush pink bathrobe adorning her body, a towel wrapping her hair. She stared at me with mouth agape, then quickly found control of her face. Removing the towel from her platinum mane, she cautiously stepped to the mirror, and sat in the chair. Her delicate regel features were washed of makeup, and her signature hooped earrings were removed, but her eyes were as sharp as ever, studying me intently. I smiled, and she smiled back.
“Yavara,” she poured herself a glass of wine, “you look different.”
“Do you like it?” I spun around, showing her the body she’s been jealous of for so many years, “I think it suits me.”
“It has an exotic appeal.” Leveria conceded, “Where is Prestira? Or should I call her Fifty-One?”
“She’s freeing the slaves in the hold.” I kept my smile fixed, “I wonder how your people will take it when I show them Captain Two-Shot’s manifest. A slave ship bound for Bentius with high-elves in cargo? That should go over well.”
“Oh, you know how this works.” Leveria chuckled into her wine glass, “Deny, redirect, attack the source, discredit the speaker. I’ve made a career off ruining the reputations of those in my way. You were easy; you’d already done most of the work for me.” Leveria paused, cocking her head slightly, her smile broadening. “Mother was a little harder.”
“The moment I heard of her death,” I said, my smile fading, “I knew it was you. I don’t know why you always hated her. She was a good mother. She loved you in her own way.”
“She might have loved me when I was a child, but I aged like vinegar in her eyes. She told Father I was too ambitious, that I wanted too much too soon. She thought I was a threat.” Leveria sipped her wine, “She was right.”
“How?” I said, my voice shaking slightly, “How did you twist Father against her? What lies did you tell him?”
“Oh, I didn’t have to tell him too many lies.” Leveria said, stirring her drink, “The fatal shot was really just the truth: Mother fucked a monster.” Leveria looked up at me, “Did you know that?”
“Well I just sprinkled a conspiracy theory on top, and Father had her executed.” Leveria smiled sweetly, “Simple.”
“Then Father just gave you the throne on a silver platter, huh?” I said, trying to remain calm, “You did something to him; Father would never trust you with so much.”
Leveria giggled, a sound that was girlish and menacing. “You always assumed Father loved you the most, Yavara. You were always the apple of his eye, the son he never had. You thought that just because he doted on you, he loved you more than I?”
“I know he did,” I sneered, “and so do you.”
“Oh Yavara!” Leveria laughed shaking her head, “Oh, my sweet little sister. Mother was blind to what was going on, but I thought you must have known.”
“Known what?!” I growled. Leveria’s eyes twinkled, knowing in that instant that she’d won. I should never have done this. I was out of my depth. I contemplated ending the conversation right there, but I couldn’t. My own nature betrayed me, and Leveria used it so easily as her ally.
“You never once noticed the way Father looked at me?” Leveria asked, provocatively crossing her legs, “You never once wondered why we’d disappear for hours, or why my bedroom was moved to the high tower just a few steps from his office? Are you connecting the dots?”
“There was no way. Father would never…”
“You know Clartias Tiadoa as the warm benevolent patriarch who gave you everything you wanted.” Leveria looked pitiably at me, “I know him as the sick twisted man he really is. I love him for who he is, and that’s why he loves me. That’s why his child grows in my belly.” Leveria rested her hand on her stomach.
I couldn’t call her a liar. For as I sifted my memories of my father, I saw the leer in his doting gaze, the coldness in his compassionate eyes. Eyes just like Leveria’s, beautiful and merciless. I saw the mask he wore for me, and witnessed in dry dismay as each memory of him became corrupted with the truth. A knot formed in my throat, and I tasted the reflux from my belly, the nausea threatening to try to expel the horrible realization from my mind.
“So you see Yavara,” Leveria continued, smiling at my shocked face, “I didn’t need to convince Father to abdicate, he did it through his volition, because he loves and trusts me. And now he hates you more than anything in this world.”
“You two are perfect for each other.” I said through gritted teeth, “You sick fucking cunt.”
“I know what I am.” Leveria said, still smiling sweetly, “I made sure Mother knew too. The night before she hung, I went to our precious mother’s cell. I tortured her like I tortured Prestira. I had no reason to do it other than to watch her suffer, and she suffered, Yavara; oh, she did. I wish you could’ve seen her break. It was like… like watching a rose succumb to rot. I took everything from her, and when she was at her lowest, I promised her mercy. Then I killed her.”
I held back my tears, biting my cheeks hard to keep my face straight. I knew Leveria was telling me the truth. I had no retort for it, no ground to claim. It was a mistake talking with her. I could take over people’s minds with magic, but Leveria could break their will with just words. I stood stupidly, looking at my sister’s implacable smile, those hate-filled sapphires above it.
“Do you have nothing to say, Yavara?” Leveria asked, “You were the one that called me, and I’ve been doing most of the talking. You’re usually such a great conversationalist, and I was hoping to catch up with my beloved sister. Tell me, how is Elena doing?”
I didn’t answer. There was no point in playing this game anymore; I’d already lost. I raised my hand to the mirror, but Leveria’s voice stopped me.
“Sherok’s dead.” Leveria said plainly. I stopped my hand. “She was killed in a raid,” Leveria said, “caught an arrow through the eye. I was told Elena was there when it happened. I hear she’s changed, that’s she’s not even a woman anymore, not really. I don’t know what you’d call her. Maybe just call her ‘it.’ I’ll make sure it’s taken alive. But don’t worry, you’ll get her back. One piece at a time.”
“Leveria,” I said, my voice shaking, “when this is over, you’ll beg me for death.”
“Oh Yavara, that’s not you,” Leveria laughed, “you look foolish when you make tortuous threats. But that’s all they are, is threats. Threats made by a petulant child with no means to act upon them. I don’t make threats; I make promises. I promise you Yavara, that you will watch everyone you care for die.” Leveria’s smile was still sweet and innocent as she spoke, “One by one, I am going to kill those closest to you. One day, you’ll look upon the ashes of your kingdom and wonder where it all went wrong. You’ll walk atop the carcasses of your fallen loved ones and stare blankly at their skulls. And then you’ll see me, walking to you through the haze with arms outstretched. You’ll embrace me as your sister, and I’ll kindly slip the dagger between your ribs. And the last words you will utter on this earth will be ‘thank you,’ as you look upon my face.”
My fist collided with the glass, shattering the mirror. The last traces of Leveria’s laughter echoed through the cabin as I nursed my bleeding hand. “Stupid.” I hissed, “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Goddamn it, Yavara!”
I walked from the cabin to find Prestira healing the wounds of the other slaves on the deck. I tended to the shattered women as best I could, washing the filth from their bodies and offering what solace I could muster. The Ardeni women blessed and thanked me, the dawn-elves treated me with caution, and the high-elf women stared in abject horror and awe. I simply smiled kindly to them, and washed their bodies. When they were dressed in clothes from the hold, I lowered the ship to the water, and the former slaves got to work on their new vessel. When I was sure they were situated, I lifted Prestira into my arms, and guided us off the deck. As we flew, I pushed the vessel on course to Ardeni Dreus. The Sea Serpent’s colors had been lowered, and the Lowland flag was flying high in its stead. I held Prestira close as we glided across the sea, the morning sun breaching the horizon to cast the world in a dim blue. Leveria’s words rang in my head the whole way.
End of Part Five