Chapter 10
Zogar
My Queen is spectacular. No, the word spectacular can’t begin to describe Rosomon. Proud to have her at my side, I stride into the council meeting—which, as I learned last time I was here, is not the council I remember.
I told Rosomon the basics of what I learned the last time but also made it clear that it’s best she only listens during this meeting. There’s too much of the world of superi she can’t yet understand—the history and power struggles between our various species color every word exchanged.
After spending four hundred years away from the Darkness, I barely understand this world myself now, and I got few satisfactory answers when last we met.
At that time, my powers were greatly diminished from the effort of keeping that castle intact.
At that time, I had no access to my wife to replenish them.
Today, I am strong and will get more answers.
We’re the last to arrive, and all heads turn as we enter the room.
“May I introduce Queen Rosomon.” My chest warms as everyone around the table rises in respect, and I introduce the others to her, listing each name and title.
“Vespera, Queen of the Fae; Aryxia Stormbeak, Queen and King of the Gryphons; Konnal Steelfang, Werewolf Alpha; Eldrath, Overlord of the Elves; Mirage, Queen of the Feline Shifters; Ursula, Bear Shifter Alpha; Eleanor, President of the Rootbound mages—” Eleanor smiles, somewhat smugly, when I use her correct title.
“And Lucian you have met, King of the Vampyres.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you all,” Rosomon says.
I pull out the chair next to mine at the end of the table opposite Lucian. Everyone else also sits, but Lucian pushes his chair back a few feet from the table.
“If you’ll indulge me for a moment.” Lucian snaps his fingers. “My pet’s still in training and has a few more steps to prepare for this meeting. Isn’t that right, my pet?”
The same human who was here the last time appears from the shadows, wearing nothing I would call clothing.
Her throat is trapped inside a deep red ribbon, and ropes of the same color are wrapped around various parts of her body, pulled so tightly they dig into her skin.
She’s hairless where adult females should have hair, and a length of the rope is parting her folds, clearly putting pressure on her lady button, and I expect digging firmly into her flesh.
I glance at Rosomon. My wife’s cheeks have pinked, but she’s maintaining her composure. I warned her that she might see Lucian abusing a mortal today.
“Lap,” Lucian says impatiently, as if the woman should have heard his command before it was uttered. But instead of impaling herself on his cock, as she did last time, she flops across his legs.
“Spread.”
She widens her legs, and he takes a large, rod-shaped object out of a case. The phallus shaped object has veins and ridges like a real cock, but it’s bright red and fashioned from a material I don’t recognize. Without warning, Lucian pushes it inside her, sharply driving it all the way home.
She arches up off his lap, and he smacks her bare bottom so hard the crack echoes in the room.
“Be still.”
“Really, Lucian,” Vespera says. “Must you put on this show?”
“I’m sorry, my dear, but I must.” Lucian pulls a second object from his case. This one is somewhat thinner, black and not shaped like a cock. Rather, it’s more like a series of balls joined by a flexible bar. Lucian tugs down on the top ball as if to demonstrate the object’s flexibility.
“Beatrix is in training,” Lucian says to the Fae Queen and the rest of us. “And she’s been trying my patience. Haven’t you, my pet.”
Beatrix nods, but her movement earns her three more hard smacks to her ass. Then, as the pink on her skin deepens and spreads, he works the second object into her asshole. Each ball grows successively larger, and each time her body accepts one, she jerks on his lap, earning more smacks to her ass.
“Why didn’t you do this before we arrived?” I ask the vampyre king.
“Because, my dragon friend.” Grinning, Lucian forces the final ball inside her.
“Witnesses are imperative to her training. Isn’t that right, my pet?
” Without waiting for her response, he spanks her again and then directs a few sharp smacks directly onto the ends of the phalluses, no doubt forcing them deeper and shifting them inside her.
The skin on her bottom, now red as cherries, must be burning.
“Besides.” Lucian looks directly at Rosomon. “Your queen is quite enjoying the show, just as she enjoyed the delights at my club.”
Rosomon raises her chin as if to deny this, and I place my hand lightly on her thigh. It’s best if she neither confirms nor denies Lucian’s claim.
“Get up,” Lucian says.
The woman struggles to her feet. She’s wearing shoes with heels even higher than the ones I procured for Rosomon. Uncomfortable footwear seems to be required for human women in this city.
“Retrieve the tray,” he says.
The woman turns and takes a few steps into the darkness. When she re-enters the light, she has a tray balanced on one hand, with a very full martini glass on top. I saw glasses like this the last time we were here and learned what they’re called.
“Serve our guests.” Lucian snaps his fingers. “Not one drop must spill.” He picks up a small object, the same red as the first phallus, and pushes a button. A faint buzzing drifts through the room and the woman’s pelvis contracts.
“What did you do to her?” Rosomon asks softly.
I squeeze her thigh, reminding her that she should remain quiet.
“Queen Rosomon, I’m very glad that you asked.” Lucian smiles. “My pet’s training toys are called vibrators. They have small motors inside them. Do you know what a motor is?”
Rosomon nods. I explained motors, what I know of them, when I told her about the horseless véhicules that terrorize the streets of this city. Not to mention that machine she saw fucking a woman in Lucian’s club last night.
He picks up a black object with buttons, the same color as the phallus inside her ass.
“When I push these buttons.” He makes a show of pushing one.
“The toy vibrates inside her.” His grins spreads.
“And these buttons here?” He holds out both controllers so Rosomon can see.
“Every time I press those, it increases the intensity.” He pushes all the buttons at the same time.
The girl’s pelvis bucks sharply, and the martini glass tips over on her tray.
The buzzing stops. Shaking her head, the woman sets down the tray and quickly drapes herself over Lucian’s lap.
“That’s a good pet.” He smacks each of her ass cheeks several times and then plays with the vibrators inside her, tugging and pushing their ends. Her body stiffens as she struggles not to squirm.
“Up you get.” He smacks her hard. “My guests are thirsty, and you can’t learn if you don’t try again.”
She shifts off his lap and fetches a fresh martini for the tray. In the dim light at the side of the room, dozens of filled glasses sit at the ready.
“Shall we begin?” Lucian asks, as if he’s the one who’s been waiting for us.
“Where are Surath and Xendus,” Aryxia asks.
“They traveled back to the Light,” I tell them. “In our absence, they will free as many of my people as they can.”
“How will they do that?” Eleanor, the rootbound mage asks.
“My people must fly across the veil to take their true forms.” I close my eyes for a moment, fighting my thirst for revenge. I’m here to discover who deserves to bear the full force of that revenge.
“Because my people require the cooperation of humans to do this, it will take some time to free them all.”
Beatrix successfully sets a drink in front of Vespera. Grinning, she quickly returns to fetch another glass.
“Why can’t they shift in the Light?” Eleanor asks.
Turning toward her, I frown. As a basic mage, rootbound, as she now calls her kind, Eleanor has a much shorter life span than most of us seated around this table. As such, I could forgive her lack of knowledge, but the rootbound queens who came before her should have passed on their knowledge.
The vibrators buzz. Beatrix spills a martini glass, and then quickly drapes herself over Lucian’s lap for her punishment. I try hard to ignore both the intermittent buzzing and the cracking sounds of smacks.
Beside me, Rosomon shifts. Her attention is fully on Lucian and the human. I’d like to smack some sense of decorum into Lucian but suspect no beating would have the power to do that.
“The veil stifles magic,” I tell Eleanor things she should already know. “It’s difficult to access Darkness behind the veil. Especially without the cooperation of humans.”
“Then why did your people stay there so long?” she asks.
I suppress a growl. “A hex was cast upon my people,” I say as calmly as I’m able. “We were in dragon form when the veil was completed, and given the reduced access to Darkness, we could not shift back.”
“Who cast this hex?” Aryxia asks, their voice like silk, in contrast to their eagle shaped head with its sharp beak.
“That is what I must discover.” I scan the room, hoping to detect an indication that someone here knows more than they’re saying.
“Why not simply burn the veil to the ground?” Eleanor asks. “Isn’t that what dragon fire is designed for?”
I frown at her foolish question, fighting to gather patience. “If we destroyed the veil, the mortals would be unprotected. Unprotected from the kind of misuse they’re subjected to here.” I glare at Lucian.
In response, the vampyre king grins and pushes all of the buttons at once, holding them until Beatrix is quivering. Not only does she spill the glass she’s carrying, it falls to the floor, and she scrambles to pick it up, before draping her body over Lucian’s lap for her spanking.
I clench my fists, trying to channel my aggravation and to resist making any comment about this appalling behavior. Vampyres have always been cruel, not to mention far too fixated on sex, but this king’s behavior is beyond the pale.