Chapter 27
“Am I disturbing you?” Invia asked when she appeared in my chambers. She carried a bag and a smallish box in her arms.
I looked across the room at the lone follower keeping me company.
I had acquired a wooden horse like I had seen Samson’s girls using during one of my visits.
That name was stupid in my mind, however.
Yes, it was made of wood and was designed to be sat on, but that’s where the horse-like qualities ended.
A horse didn’t have a triangular back. Where a rider would sit comfortably in a saddle, this wooden horse had one long peak extending from end to end.
That hard point was meant to inflict consistent discomfort on the girl on top.
Simply, gravity forever pulled her down into the point, and if she was bound, there was no escaping it.
The pain would build and build and build.
The follower in my room at that moment was one of the most muscular women in the Silk, her sculpted bulk rivaling mine in size.
She straddled the horse, her arms tied behind her back, a silk gag in her mouth.
The silk ropes wrapping her ankles pulled her toward the floor, forcing more pressure between her legs.
Her breasts had red hickeys around her nipples where Drae’s suction cups had worked.
That had bored me, though, so I added an extra rope to her neck to force her to lean forward a few degrees. Every few seconds, hot wax from a candle suspended over her dripped onto her back, forcing her to writhe and grind on the horse, further enhancing her pain.
“I can send her away if you like,” I offered.
“How long has she been on the horse?”
“Something like 30 minutes.”
“Have you given her Rope Burn?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Make her earn it.”
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I have a private matter to discuss, but I don’t want to interrupt a work in progress.”
I tugged downward on the follower’s ankles to hear her scream. Silkmancer slipped a Byron’s Bliss between into her mouth, activated the toy, and then strapped it to her, blindfolding her at the same time. I decided to be merciful and kept it on the slowest setting–for now.
Invia licked her lips.
“I have been thinking about the conversation we had regarding voices,” she began, her eyes locked on the helpless follower.
“Oh?”
“Does yours come at random times or always in certain kinds of situations?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“For me, it was whenever I was afraid or was doubting myself. When I felt my most powerful, when I was reveling in victory, the voices were quiet. They only spoke in moments of weakness.”
That was interesting and, upon reflection, aligned with when Aurketzu’s voice chose to make itself known. “Go on,” I said.
“My voices always said I was weak and pathetic, that no matter what I did, I was the lowliest being in the world. But I never heard the voices when I was in battle with you or when you were inside me. Knowing how much greater I was than our enemies gagged the voices, but they always came back, until recently.”
I leaned forward, nearly forgetting about the muscle mommy getting mouth-railed by a Byron's Bliss on the other side of the room. She whimpered.
“The voices stopped at the last recruitment party,” Invia continued.
“I was slapping an initiate’s ass until it was black and blue, and the oaths began.
Part of me wished that some of the girls would fail the prayer, that they would choke and die right in front of me.
I used to feel guilty for those kinds of thoughts, but you’ve shown me I can be myself.
I don’t have to be ashamed, so I let go and enjoy their suffering. ”
“And that stopped the voices?”
She nodded. “I drowned them in blissful violence.”
Now that Invia had described it, I realized that I had never heard Aurketzu when I felt my most powerful. When I was cutting enemies to pieces and fucking a dozen women, she was quiet. She typically emerged when I faced a great challenge or experienced a setback.
Moments of weakness. Moments of doubt.
“What makes you think we can drown mine?” I asked.
“I am Aurketzu. I cannot die.”
“I want to do an experiment,” Invia said. “If we can prove certain feelings inspire the voice and other feelings quiet it, then we can take those feelings to a new extreme, reaching a height where the voice can’t reach. We have to make her talk first.”
“She kind of is already.”
“What if I remind you how it feels knowing the King of the Abyss wants you dead? What if I point out how foolish your plans are? You’re weak, Brenin.”
“She’s right. You need me, viceroy.”
Invia must have seen my reaction to my old name. “Brenin of Borja, the pathetic little guard, the laughing stock of the whole city–You think someone like that can conquer the King of the Abyss?”
“You are not Brenin of Borja. I made you something more, molded you into the perfect servant.”
“Everything you love will be taken from you when you inevitably fail, and history will laugh at you. I will laugh at you.”
“History will not laugh when we have claimed the material plane for ourselves. Together, we are unstoppable. Trust. Trust.”
My neck stiffened involuntarily at the hate and doubt roiling within me. “I hear it,” I said. “Now what?”
Invia reached into her bag and produced two sets of manacles. She clamped one set around her ankles and the other around her wrists.
“This box is full of Healing potions,” she explained. “I want you to take a knife, cut off my clothes, and carve your name into me–your true name–and keep cutting if that’s what you want. Don’t feel guilty. Enjoy your power, and don’t stop until you want to.”
“Foolishness.”
I drew the knife from my belt. Invia’s eyes blazed with passion as I wrapped her manacles in silk and stretched her arms high over her head.
“Fuck you, Brenin,” Invia spat. “You’re too weak to deserve any other name. If you think I’m wrong, make me admit.”
“She is not the way. I am the way. You know this to be true, viceroy.”
So I tried Invia’s idea. I gave in. I let myself sink into what and who I was, and I sank deeper with every flick of the knife, with every pained scream.
Invia was right. The more I embraced it, the less Aurketzu spoke. I needed to find a way to make this relief permanent, but for now, I was having too much fun to think about anything other than the woman dangling in front of me.
Which also means I forgot about the follower getting fucked by a magic dildo while tied down to a horse. We relieved her eventually.
A summoner on the plane of dominions invites you for an audience. You cannot receive or deliver harm for as long as you remain within the summoning circle, and you may return to your home plane at will. These rules cannot be broken or cheated by either party.
Do you accept the invitation?
Yes / No
Arcturus had awful timing. I was in the middle of hosting a contest: a team of 6 blonde followers and a team of 6 raven-haired followers raced to see who could get six of my dicks to finish first, using only their mouths, hands, and feet.
My boss rush runs had been going well enough, but the repetition of the same fights over and over had become dull.
So, the afternoon after another lap around the material plane’s boss rooms, I selected 12 lucky followers to accompany me to my Sanctuary bedroom.
Team blonde had an early lead. They went right to deep-throating tentacle dicks while team raven started more sensually, taking the time to build me up.
Team raven had only just switched to a new technique that had me intrigued: while one woman rubbed my dick between her soft feet, another sucked on the tip, sometimes licking down my shaft and between the toes of her teammate before taking me back into her mouth.
That creativity had just put team raven a few strokes ahead of team blonde when I received the notification that Arcturus summoned me.
I debated ignoring him, but the simple thought of the six-armed specimen of celestial masculinity was a boner killer.
Whether or not I accepted the invitation, this little distraction was ruined.
“To be continued,” I told my treasures and selected “Yes” with my mind.
I stood at the top of what I believed was the same white tower from my first visit, surrounded by stars, moons, and islands floating in the distance.
“I was informed you requested an audience,” Arcturus said, his giant form towering over me.
Right. I had done that, passing a message via one of his material plane errand boys.
Solara’s Spell Forgemaster ability offered her a quest to create Seraphim Slayer, a spell she designed specifically to prepare for our battle with the celestial planes.
Arcturus had no idea such a battle was coming, so I hoped he might help with one of the more difficult parts of the quest. If he knew my true intentions, he would be more interested in killing me than aiding me.
“I need to acquire blood or bone recovered from a living seraphim,” I said. “Is this an item you can procure for me?”
“An unusual request.”
“You should know by now to expect the unusual if I’m involved.”
“What need will such an item fill?”
I shook my head. “If I share that information, you will make much less profit. Would you still like me to answer?”
A smirk crossed Arcturus’ golden face. We had done this before, so I was less entertained.
“I rescind my question,” he replied. “The profit for securing such a difficult item would be substantial.”
I knew this would be expensive, but Arcturus’ excitement worried me. How much profit did it take to intrigue a being so close to the top of the celestial hierarchy? He likely had more gold than all of the material plane. Nothing about this transaction would be cheap.
“What is your price?” I asked.
“Truly, I do not know. Blood and bone are so often used in hexes and curses that a seraphim is unlikely to part with either willingly, and neither you nor I has the means to forcefully acquire those items.”
“I suspected as much myself, which is why I came to you. I believed you had the savvy to see opportunities that lesser beings like myself could not.”
“Flaterry transcends the plans, it seems,” Arcturus replied.
When he didn’t continue, I waited to speak, choosing instead to let him ruminate on my request.
“Suppose I could offer you proximity to a seraphim,” he began. “I cannot acquire these items myself but could put you in a position to do so.”
“I have neither the desire nor the means to harm a seraphim.”
“I have heard whispers of powerful she-demons paying for the privilege of Byron of Zaglis’ attention.”
Well, now that was interesting.
“The hunger you sate exists on all planes and all worlds. Were I to broker such an encounter, my payment would come from the fee charged to the client.”
Celestials were masters of enjoying all the same vices as the lower planes but dressed them up in flowery language to hide the sin and the dirt beneath. In Arcturus’ case, he described himself as a “broker” when “pimp” was far more accurate.
I thought. “So our transaction would get me close to a source for the items I needed, but the actual acquisition would be up to me?”
“Indeed. A word of caution from one business partner to another: You have the stats to potentially survive such an encounter with a seraphim, but know that every facet of a seraphim exudes powerful Holy magic.”
“So sticking my dick in a seraphim would be like sticking it in Holy water.”
“That is not a comparison I would use, but yes.”
Arcturus didn’t know I was immune to Holy, and it was best he didn’t. The time enemies wasted attacking me with Holy spells made my victory all but assured. If word got out that Holy could not harm me, that advantage was destroyed.
“That is a problem for me to solve,” I said.
“Your words of caution are appreciated, but I would still like to proceed. In exchange for arranging a meeting, you are entitled to the entirety of the fee paid by the client, a fee that you yourself can negotiate directly with them. Does that capture our terms?”
“If you kill or seriously harm the client, my business will suffer. However you procure what you desire cannot create new enemies for me.”
“I had assumed as much, so I have no problem agreeing to that, but I must ask for an exception.”
“Go on.”
“The Dungeon Lord of the Borja dungeon went missing for some time due to the intensity of her climax. Please advise the client that they are responsible for knowing their own limits. I cannot be held liable for any harm that comes from a consensual act.”
“I believe that tale is precisely what will bring us a client,” Arcturus said. “And I agree. Such a concession is reasonable.”
“Then we have a deal.”