Chapter 5 Fane
Chapter 5
Fane
“Will you take me into the Serpent’s Den?”
I was curled around Sabina in her messy bed, folding her tiny soft body into my long hard one and clutching her to me with an iron grip. Her warm skin made me drowsy. She was asking because the Serpent’s Den scared her. Always afraid that I would change my mind. Sabina did not venture into the Serpent’s Den; the special place in the attic of The Gilded Serpents where the client’s inner demons could come out to play. In fact, most of the whores who lived here did not go there.
We brought our playthings for the Den in from elsewhere.
But, for me, Sabina would do it. She left it up to me. Admittedly, most times, I wouldn’t care about a whore’s worries, and if I wanted to take her there, I would. But in Sabina’s case, she was more than a whore to me. She was like an old friend. A comfort. I’d decided long ago not to take her to the Den.
“No, love,” I whispered against her ear. Her body relaxed and melted into me more. “Go to sleep now,” I commanded, stroking her hair.
Three days I needed to stay away from Blackmoth House. I would most definitely venture into the Den during my time out. It would just be a matter of finding a lucky lady to accompany me.
When my eyes dragged open, I knew I hadn’t slept long. I rarely needed much sleep, even after an eventful night. After all, wicked minds stay awake.
What I wasn’t used to, though, was daylight. I was what some would call a creature of the dark. Even though I didn’t necessarily sleep all day, I did normally spend daylight hours hidden away in the secret wing of Blackmoth House that Draven and Nova didn’t even know existed. Once night fell, those were the hours that I would slither out and come alive.
Muddy late morning sunlight stole in between the slit in Sabina’s draperies, and I squinted and growled. I slid my arm out from under Sabina, shoving her to the side. She stirred and clawed at a blanket, pulling it up over herself.
I pulled on my trousers and zipped them but left them unbuttoned. Then I pulled on my boots and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to look somewhat presentable just in case a beautiful whore in the corridor needed to be fucked by me.
But what I was really after was breakfast. My stomach roared with need, and I ventured out, down the stairs, and wound through the ground floor to the kitchen, where I planned to help myself.
Since it was past breakfast time, the kitchen was fairly empty, as the staff must have been off doing other things. Except for two young, pretty maids. One maid was seated on the edge of the large wooden table with her plain brown skirt and petticoats pulled up and bunched in her lap and her legs spread.
The second maid, dressed identically, was on her knees on the stone floor, feasting on the first one’s pussy.
The one receiving the pleasure lifted her head and looked at me, flushed cheeks, startled. “Oh, Mr. Fane!” she gasped, her words coming out breathy and jagged. “Breakfast… Is... Ooooover.”
The other one’s back went rigid, and she removed her tongue from the delectable looking pussy and gave me an evil stare.
I chuckled. “Don’t stop on my account. I’ll just make myself a little treat while you have your little treat!” I told her good-naturedly. Her lips glistened with the other girl’s arousal, and her eyes glittered with anger.
I walked to them. “Truly, darling. It’s fine. Let me help you.”
I reached forward to thumb the clit of the maid on the table and her head dropped backward once again. I found the little nub throbbing under my thumb. With my other hand, I grabbed the back of the other maid’s head and shoved her face back into the place she wanted it. I ground the girl’s face into the others’ pussy while rubbing the little wanting clit and they both moaned.
“Good girls,” I purred. Then I released the women to leave them to it while I addressed a tray of croissants that was still on the counter. There was still water in the teakettle, but it had longs since gone cold, so I took a match from the countertop and lit the stove to put the water on. As I waited for it to warm up, I propped against the counter and watched the two maids who had since forgotten my existence. The one on her knees was quite an artist as she made the one on the table writhe and thrash. The one on the table clawed about with her hand, as though seeking something. It landed on a rolling pin, which she rolled toward her lover.
“Use this,” the girl whispered, breathing raspy and fast. “I need it.”
The other maid grabbed the pin and with wide eyes, I watched her nudge the round, hard handle into her friend’s pussy. I sucked in a deep breath. The maid on the table collapsed flat onto her back, and her spine arched up and down as she convulsed with pleasure. “YEEEESSS,” she snarled between gritted teeth. Her friend reached a frantic rhythm of thrusting the fat handle in and out and bent to swirl her luscious tongue on the clit of her lover, who was mad with ecstasy.
Personally, I think having me watch enhanced the whole thing for them, but I might be wrong.
The tea kettle began to scream, and the maid’s body froze and tensed. She kicked her legs wider, as wide as they would go. Her body convulsed, and she grunted out her orgasm long and mad like a woman possessed by a demon.
I poured my tea, pondering how sanitary these dishes were, and then found that I did not care.
After my mid-morning snack with entertainment, I visited The Gilded Serpent’s private haberdashery to select new clothes for the day. The manager greeted me warmly. He provided me with a spectacular silk black suit that I knew would fit me impeccably when I put it on after having a wash.
“Wait three days at least before you send the bill to Blackmoth House,” I told him. “I don’t want them to know where I am at the moment.”
The manager gave me a wide, knowing smile, and I gave him a wink.
I spent the rest of the day kicking around The Gilded, trying to determine what I’d do with myself that night. I also spent some time daydreaming about the little doll back at home, and picturing her writhing in her bed, sweating and feverish, suffering from brutal nightmares and trembling in pain.
When I was having a smoke in the library that afternoon, a fellow mentioned a party going on in the evening at the King mansion up on the hill.
I grinned, settling on what I would do that night.
Parties at the King mansion were legendary for being boring affairs full of mundane people. Charlie King was a well known pompous blowhard who’d enjoyed a lifetime of luxury and comfort thanks to money his family had long before his birth. He hosted lavish parties to have people in to tell him how grand he was, when in fact, I had it on excellent account that he was an impotent, sour, husk of a man.
A man’s wife tells you such things after you fuck her.
Izetta King was nothing more than a trophy to Charlie. Although she was fifteen years my senior, she was twenty years younger than old Charlie. He’d probably never been able to throw her some cock for the entire life of their marriage. He was, however, very generous with his fists and his rage, which he fed to Izetta nightly.
That’s why I had a fairly easy time luring her away from one of my parents’ parties and fucking her brains out a few years back. After that, we’d met up regularly for me to give her what she was missing, with old Charlie being none the wiser.
The problem was, she wanted me to save her.
And I’ll admit, on a couple of occasions, I had tried. Once I met up with her and found her with burns upon her silky flesh and obvious difficulty walking from her pain. A second time when we met, she was so battered and bruised, her face so swollen that she was barely recognizable. I hadn’t even been able to bring myself to fuck her. In such situations, even a heart black as mine is affected.
Both times, I’d spirited Izetta away and arranged a safe place for her to hide. But, in both those cases, she returned to Charlie on her own accord. So, I’d decided not to save Izetta anymore.
I hadn’t seen her in nearly a year. I’d heard that her most recent run in with her husband’s fists had landed her in the hospital, and damn near in the grave. I did not go to her. I did not visit her. I left her to deal with it alone. Often, I’d thought of her and imagined her longing for me and hating me when I did not come.
But here I was, finding myself with a few days to fill. So, I slipped into the crowded King mansion up on the hill unnoticed. I drifted about the crowd like a ghost waiting for her to appear. The music was so boring, nobody even bothered to dance. The food was bland and the drink weak. I saw plenty of Charlie blathering away amongst various throngs of party goers. But I lingered around so long waiting for a glimpse of Izetta that day gave way to night, outside the tall windows of the ballroom.
Maybe he finally killed her, I thought with a yawn.
Just as I was about to leave, there she was.
She entered the room quiet and meek, trying not to make a fuss. But she was so breathtaking that most everybody stopped talking to stare at her. She wore a fitted red gown that flared and fell in a five-foot train behind her. There were elaborate clusters of pink flowers and green leaves delicately embroidered all over the gown. The neckline scooped low, showing the swell of her bosom heaving with nervous breath and undoubtedly a corset that was too tight for her to breathe properly. Her curly brown hair was free, cascading down her back and past her waist, with pink flowers woven among the waves.
A black velvet cord with a line of blood red rubies encircled her neck; so tight it was almost as if the aim was to choke her.
My breath caught in my throat. I had a moment of deep regret that I had not come for her. Especially since the most jaw dropping element of Izetta King that night was that she leaned heavily on an ornately carved cane, relying on it to help her walk. Had he… Permanently damaged her?
She caught sight of me almost immediately. Normally, that would bring a becoming pink rising to her cheeks. But this time, all the color bled from her face and her ruby red lips dropped slightly agape. I was too far from her to tell for sure, but her eyes sparkled as though they’d filled with tears.
Damn it.
She gathered her composure and turned to address some of her guests and altogether ignore me.
Oh, so that’s how we’re going to play it.
But the wonderful thing was that Izetta was like a moth to a flame. She was addicted to me. Obsessed. She couldn’t stay away. Also, I struck up a conversation with Charlie, which put her into a nervous state. It wasn’t even midnight yet when she pulled me into an empty corridor outside the ballroom.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.
“Whatever do you mean, my pet?” I asked. “I’ve missed you. I’ve come to see you.”
Her knuckles grew white grasping her cane, and her whole body trembled with barely veiled rage. “Oh well, isn’t that nice? Here is Fane. Disappear for a year, leave me to the wolf, allow him to almost kill me!”
My hand shot up and encircled her slender throat. She gasped and went ridged. I leaned my face so close to her she would feel my breath hot on her skin. “ You let him almost kill you, Izetta,” I snarled. “You always return to him. Never forget that. You did this to yourself.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled over down her cheeks. Her breath rasped as I gradually cut off her air supply. But she kept her spine straight and her golden-brown eyes trained on me. It wasn’t until her lips parted as though she struggled to breathe that I released her.
“Anyway,” I continued, stepping back and resuming my cordial tone. “I’m here now. I’ll take you away.”
She closed her eyes for a second and gave a deep, shuddering breath. She looked almost childlike in that second when her inner imagination took her somewhere else. She dragged her pretty eyes back open and reached up to caress my cheek. “Will you take me away? Forever this time? I’m ready. I’m ready to go and never return.” Her voice was small and defeated.
I gave Izetta a broad smile, showing her all of my teeth. “Yes darling. I can save you.”