45. Liliana
W hat must be a million candles flicker around us. Magnus keeps my hand firm in his and part of me is grateful for that, despite me knowing that it’s meant to be a form of control, of dominance.
I can feel all the stares, all the looks. I may now technically be a Brethren Lady, but I’m still the outsider and in many ways I always will be.
My teeth bite down hard on the piece of metal resting in my mouth. It’s part of the mask obscuring my face and it’s the only way to ensure it doesn’t slip because it has no ties, no ribbon, just this mouthpiece to keep it up. Every Lady here has one, a full face, ornate thing, each unique, each hand-gilded to replicate their individual features. Magnus had mine commissioned the day after he put a ring on my finger and sealed us both together for life.
The Lords all wear masks too, though theirs are simpler, covering only the top part of their faces, stopping above their lips, and they tie around their heads so they don’t require them to keep their mouths shut all the time. No, they’re allowed to speak freely, to smile and sneer, and to show expressions that we are forbidden from doing.
We ladies are to be silent. Silent and beautiful. That is our place.
A chorus of bells rings out. The crowd of robes moves like a flock and they turn as a man walks down the centre, waving a great incense burner that billows smoke all around us.
To our left stands Titus Ratcliffe and his wife, Elaine; he’s the only Lord daring enough to challenge Magnus for Chapter.
Magnus hasn’t even deigned to look at him and I’ve followed his example, keeping my eyes ahead, off to the distance as if they’re not even worthy of breathing the same air as us.
I’m wearing a long black dress that flows around my body, cascading down to my ridiculously high heels with a split right down the centre. All the other Ladies are dressed similarly, the only difference is my dress is sheer and underneath I’m wearing absolutely nothing.
I’m bare.
Exposed.
And I’ve caught more than one Lord already leering at my breasts.
But this is how Magnus likes me. I’ve realised that now, he enjoys showing me off, showing to the world what he has, what he’s created. Flaunting my body and my beauty like a prize no other man can have.
The old me would hate myself for being so obliging, for standing here, as good as naked and allow myself to be effectively treated like I’m some sort of trophy, but the new me, the one Magnus moulded, she can’t get enough of it.
So I keep my back straight, my head high and proud, and I stare down my nose at every single Lord who looks my way as if I really am better than them.
The front of my dress is cut low to ensure that the brand on my chest is visible. At times, I swear I can feel it tingling even though it’s long since healed. Magnus had it tattooed, embedded with actual gold so now it’s even more prominent, like a piece of jewellery I’ll never take off.
My hair has grown back enough to look like a pixie cut. In time, it’ll grow long enough that no one will ever know I was shaved.
Magnus murmurs something, and that memory, that flashback of being pinned down and raped, evaporates.
I give a slight nod and follow him up onto the dais, while our rivals move to stand on one opposite us.
The man with the incense starts circling around both the stages, chanting something in Latin that I do not understand. But today is where the official lines are drawn. Today is where the open war begins.
I know Magnus has something spectacular planned for later. I can tell both from the hint of a smile on his lips and from the way he fucked me so hard before we got here. My pussy throbs at the memory, I squeeze my thighs and I can feel his come dripping down just enough to help soothe the ache.
He tilts his head, glancing at me as if he knows that I’m feeling desperate for him again.
As the chanting ceases, the crowd around us falls silent.
Two girls step out. They can’t be more than teenagers but whoever they are, they’ve been specifically chosen for this honour. They cross the room, coming to a stop before me and Elaine .
With shaky hands, I remove my mask and reveal my face. A tiny bit of saliva drools down my chin from where the mouthpiece is, but I bare it no mind. It’s not like I won’t be drooling more in a minute anyway.
The girl before me inclines her head, like I’m some sort of goddess and she takes my mask with both hands before stepping back, giving me space to perform my duties.
Magnus turns enough to ensure everyone here will get a good view of this, and I slip onto my knees, opening the split of my dress wider, just as he instructed this morning. He wants them to feast on my body, to see every inch of me as I prove to them all what a loyal, devoted wife I now am.
I don’t look to Elaine. I don’t even glance at her, though I know she too is on her knees before her husband.
Magnus said that though this is technically a race for who can get their husbands off quicker, he doesn’t want me to be fast. He wants me to take my time, to show off my skills. To truly honour him—and to put a final stop on all the naysayers about me. Those who are still openly opposing my new status as Magnus’s wife.
My hands reach up, slowly I undo his belt, and pull his trousers open enough that his cock springs free. He’s so engorged already I can barely wait to get a taste of him.
His mask is firmly in place, hiding his expression but I know beneath it, he is smiling at me.
I open my mouth wide, sucking him down inch by inch, covering him in my salvia. My right hand moves to cup his balls, while my left holds his cock at an angle that ensures everyone here can see how deep I can swallow him.
He groans as I start working away. Bobbing back and forth.
We’ve been practicing this. Working day and night to ensure that I can deep throat him enough that I don’t choke.
Behind me though, I hear the gags and the sloppy sounds of my counterpart. Lord Ratcliffe is groaning, grinding, no doubt rocking his hips and barely a second later he’s coming like he’s a teenager having his first ever blow job. Either he’s taken steps to give himself blue balls or his wife must be left seriously disappointed in the bedroom.
I hear Magnus chuckle and it’s hard not to react myself. Titus thinks he’s beaten us, scored a point, but now I have the entire room’s attention and I’m determined that my performance will have them all in raptures.
My husband reaches down, planting a gentle hand on my head and I pull off with a pop before swirling my tongue around the girth of him. He’s a good seven inches, thick too, and I make sure to worship every bit of him.
As I get to the base, I suck one ball into my mouth and then the other. I know I’m aroused enough that my pussy is dripping and a part of me is dying to touch myself, to get myself off too.
But those are not the rules.
That is not permitted.
This is meant to be a show of obedience and servitude. A display of how perfect I am in my wifely duties. And it’s meant to set an example to everyone watching too; it’s a statement of what sort of leader Magnus would be, keeping his wife in check, proving that we both adhere to the family values of the Brethren.
It’s misogynistic bullshit. The old me knows it. The old me hates it.
And yet, the new me loves the fact that a thousand eyes are watching, are eagerly devouring every move I make, hearing the slurps, and the moans, and all of it as I work my husband’s cock to perfection.
And I’ll admit it does make me feel strong, it makes me feel invincible because I have the great Magnus Blake literally at my mercy right now, and if that’s not power then I don’t know what is.
With a light tap that no one else can see, Magnus signals that he’s ready .
I pick up pace, taking him back into my mouth, and I start bobbing my head quicker, hollowing my cheeks, sucking him further and further down my throat, while I let out one long moan after another so everyone here can hear how much I’m truly enjoying this moment.
He’s not meant to do it, he’s not meant to be touching me in anyway, but he reaches down, pinching my nipple, and I gasp at the tiny hit of pain.
That almost painful grip around my head tightens, he slams his hips as far as he can. His cock jerks in my mouth, his come spurts down my throat and I can feel how he’s reacting, how he’s becoming a complete, trembling mess as he roars his release.
I look up, meeting his piercing eyes, and I know that that power, that love, all of it is reciprocated. Oh, we may have started off as adversaries, we may have started off with him owning me, controlling me, holding all the power, but now we truly are equals.
He pulls out, dragging the very tip of him across my lips and I smile up at him, waiting until he has fully covered himself before I lick my lips and savour the last lingering tase.
With one hand, he helps me back to my feet.
And I feel like I’m some sort of goddess, some mythical creature from antiquity. I feel like Venus herself having performed some fertility rite, while I’m surrounded by my worshippers. My heart slams into my chest, my body aches with a desperate need for something that right now, I know I can’t have.
My dress is still parted, my entire body is still bared for everyone to gawp at. I sneak a look at Titus and Elaine, and they’re staring, open mouthed, clearly torn between shock and annoyance at how we’ve more than proven our point.
Magnus dips two of his fingers between my thighs, swiping enough that I can see the wet smear of my arousal as he brings them back up to his lips and he sucks them in one by one .
“Delicious as always,” he says, loud enough for not just me to hear.
My cheeks flame, my body shudders and part of me is so close to just launching at him, to giving into it and fucking him now in front of them all.
But that would be too far. Far too far.
The master of ceremony steps forward, stating that the ritual is now complete and both our candidacies are accepted for Chapter Lord.
I can’t tell if he knew what we were going to do or not, but as my eyes drop, I can see the hint of a bulge where his dick is.
Clearly, he enjoyed the spectacle before him. And we all know where half these Lords will be headed tonight. Oblivion is going to be filled to the rafters with them. Of course, Magnus is no longer running it. Technically, he’s still in charge but he’s passed the reins to Conrad, who was apparently only too delighted to step up.
That great chime rings out again, this time counting six times. They won’t ring again until a Chapter Lord is selected. Until they declare that it is Magnus who leads us all.
I go to move but Magnus squeezes my hand, commanding me silently to wait.
Ahead of us, Titus and Elaine all but storm off. It’s hard not to laugh at their behaviour because they clearly thought a one-minute blowjob would make them the heroes here. Too bad on that front.
The crowd starts dispersing. Two very clear and distinct groups form, and I know it’s our faction versus theirs.
Through the middle Antonio walks, his eyes fixed on my husband. With a broad smile he congratulates him, silently announcing to everyone there exactly who his loyalty sits with, and a murmur spreads through the crowd and around us.
People must have known who he was backing and yet such a public display will certainly grease more wheels .
He hugs Magnus like a brother and then he leans in, speaking as quietly as he can that there’s a problem.
“What is it?” Magnus asks, keeping his own voice barely above a whisper.
“Conrad is missing.”
“Excuse me?”
“He hasn’t been seen in days. No one has heard a thing from him.”
Magnus glances at me and, to my surprise, I see a flicker of concern there.
“Have the Esau got him?” I whisper.
Magnus shakes his head like he wouldn’t believe it was possible, but he pulls out his phone and types away, no doubt putting Dustin onto it, and then, as if nothing were amiss, he pockets it and once more takes my hand.
“We’ll deal with it later,” he says, though I’m unsure if it’s meant for me or Antonio.
Ahead, the Esau faction make their way out the main doors while we linger inside. I’m conscious that my body is still very much exposed, but Magnus keeps me close enough that I know no one would dare touch me.
It’s hard to think that over half a year ago I was here, stripped naked and on my knees, but not as part of some ritual, not to prove my loyalty and my devotion to my husband, but as a traitor to the Brethren.
Would I have believed then what the outcome of that night would be? Would I believe that soon enough I was happy to marry the man at my side, happy to marry my rapist and my torturer, and happy to devote my every waking moment to our happiness and success?
No, I doubt that.
But I don’t regret it, I don’t regret any moment of our journey. I happily threw myself in front of a bullet for Magnus, I saved his life from an assassin, and I know now, if one burst into the cathedral, I would willingly die for him again.
This is our future now, this is our fate. We’re tied to one another. Destined to be together. He will become Chapter Lord, he will rule over all the Brethren of this country and I will sit beside him, silent and dutiful in public, as is expected.
I’ll pleasure him, I’ll honour him, I’ll worship him with every inch of my body, and I’ll also let him use and abuse me in any way he sees fit, anyway that he desires.
I’m his wife now.
And I’ll serve him on my knees, devoted to his every whim.
THE END