Faere Warrior: Passion's Price

Fae Court is a  process of posturing, deliberating, then occasionally viewing the facts before deciding on a verdict.  Anyone in opposition to the grand plan of the Seelie Court, will soon find themselves in danger.

Ignorance of the their laws do not excuse you from penalty.  Even if  their brand of justice seems slow in coming.

Chapter 8:  A Pound of Flesh

by

Ellie Mack

 

 

The Queen rose slowly. She paced a few steps across the front of her throne. She turned and dismissed Oban. He pouted for a moment, but her sharp, dagger-like stares quickly urged him out of the room. She ordered the court dismissed, and the high council to convene instantly.

She summoned two of her guards, sending one to retrieve the momo, the other to check the prison cell. She turned to Leevander. "You and Urias will convey all to the council. I forgive your intrusion this time, as it is vital information. What of our poisoned warrior? Have we lost him?"

"No, he is here; I brought him to my palace. He is being bathed by my servants." He smirked. Bathed was the least of the things the servant women were doing to Keegan. When he had left them, they had him stripped trying to bring him to consciousness by strategically placed kisses.

"How much elixir have you given him already? We still have that matter of Sir Robert to contend with."  Sir Robert was Keegan's uncle. He had been the first knight to be drafted by the Seelie into serving their needs. They had yet to fulfill their bargain with him.

"Three doses so far. He isn't immortal, but longevity; I'd say he'll live three times his normal life with the current level. It wasn't enough to counter the green blood of the Momo's sting, however. I don't know if we can save him."

The Queen summoned her aid, and sent him to tend to Keegan. "Come. We have much to attend."

Leevander and Urias followed the traditional six steps behind the queen as they moved to the council room.


                        *                                  *                                  *                                  *


Salena woke, stretching lazily, fully sated from the evening before with Keegan. She had been surprised by the instant desire she had felt for him. She was a little sad that he wasn't in her bed when she woke. Another round or two would be a great way to start her day.

His clothes lay strewn on the floor with hers, but there was no sign of him. Surely he hadn't left naked.

Full of energy, she made her way to the bathroom. Wondering if Keegan had gone into the kitchen to prepare them a meal, she washed her face. Opening her eyes for the first time, she gasped in horror.

The glamour spell had worn off. Every rune, every glyph, every wrinkle stared back from her reflection. Her course, aged hair was little more than straw sticking out of a pruny, ancient, old woman’s faces.

"Oh gods!"  She exclaimed, horrified at her visage. What if Keegan had caught a glimpse of her like this? No wonder he fled!

Selena's blood curdling scream was heard by Siamm, but Siann was too weak to come to her aid. Siann tried to move, managing about two feet before collapsing.

A black cloth fell over Siamm. "Nasty little bugger aren't you?"

She was too weak to fight, too weak to defend her mistress, and too weak to cry out to Master.  Excruciating pain shot through her as she was jostled into a black void. Weakly, she tried to cry out to Master, barely a whisper came out.  Her mouth was dry, parched; her throat inflamed, barely able to swallow.  Waves of nausea rolled over her, but there was nothing left to empty from her gut.  If death could come to an immortal, it would be welcomed.  

Faintly she heard her mistress calling her name.  She sounded panicked, but the sound moved further away.  It would have to wait until Siann had recovered.

Salena was frantic.  She emptied the drawers, gutting the closet searching for it.  Her energy was fading fast.  She screamed into the empty room, trying to remember where she’d put it.  She clutched her fingers into her hair, trying to remember where she’d put it. And handfuls of her hair fell to the floor. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, no!”  she collapsed to her knees.  She had to have the elixir! 

Suddenly she remembered.  It was in the kitchen cabinet, behind the spices in the ancient bottle.  Salena practically flung herself at the cabinet, knocking the contents to the floor as she pushed everything aside to get to her salvation.  Taking a big swig, she gasped in relief.  Instantly her skin plumped, filling the deep creases, her hair transforming from a dry straw-like texture to a smooth silken luxurious fall of dark locks.  Her eyes brightened, her cheeks plumped, her breasts lifted, her buttocks tightening.  She gasped at both the pleasure and the pain that the transformation caused.

Peeking into the small bottle, she noticed that there were only about six doses left. That should last her for another century at least.  By then the Great Contract would be ended and her lover and  master, her husband  Brogann, would rule with her by his side for the next age to come.

Not bothering to put things in order before she left, Salena dressed, then headed to her lectures.  Some private tutoring with Keegan seemed to be in order over the course of this semester.  She just prayed he hadn’t seen her in her true aged form.  If he had, well she’d have to use a memory wipe.  They were tricky things, but she couldn’t have him remembering her as an ancient old hag. Brogann had after all, ordered her to stay close to him. 

Next time he inquired as to how many humans she had given herself to the answer would be one, sparing her the punishment.  He never asked how many times. 

She adjusted her lipstick before exiting her office.  She'd put on quite a show today, vamping it up in front of the entire class.  she checked her low cut shirt making certain the proper amount of ceavage showed and that when she stretched, the lacy tops of her thigh highs would just peek out. A slow smile covered her face, Keegan wouldn't stand a chance against her seduction.

Read chapter 7 here
Read Chapter 6 here

Read chapter 5 here
Read chapter 4 here
Read chapter 3 here
Read chapter 2 here
Read chapter 1 here

Freedom in Hiding

Heya guys, back to see Siam and Laura yet again; watching them explore their feelings and to explore Siam's past, hiding from the past causes problems in the present. Hope it is as good for you as it was for me, now I am off for an ecig.

Dear Diary

The last you saw of me was me tangled in my partner’s arms as she teased my tummy, when I awoke I found her hand had crept up to my left breast. It felt wonderful to have this gorgeous creature snaked around my body. It was something new, something wonderful, not like when touched by boys at church who pushed too far and who used to letch and treated me like I was laid out on a slab for inspection and use.

She was gentle, kind and just starting to stir from her slumber. I could tell that just by the way her arm slowly moved and she began to apologize. It felt strange to be the one reassuring due to the incident last night but I was relaxing her, I started by gently clamping my arm round hers so that she couldn’t move it and said, “if I wanted it moved I would’ve moved your arm when I woke up about an hour ago.”

 I turned to kiss her gently and then with a rush of confidence I never before knew I had, I took that arm of hers, grasping her hand and slid it down my tummy, reveling in the intake of breath this caused from my very willing lover. My hand moved hers slow and gentle till it was obvious as to what its final destination would be, “Siam Darlin’, stop.” I froze and spun to look at her confused, terrified I had done something wrong and began to sob again. “But, but, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do, to be? You’ve been so wonderful don’t I have to let, to give…” I stopped there the words not coming out of my mouth, the question hanging between us and just being held.

“Sweetheart, that isn’t how it is with me. You don’t have to spread your legs as a thank you or because you think that’s what I want. I want a relationship with you, I don’t want to fuck you once and then leave. Whatever else I may be I am not that kind of boy,” at this she giggled slightly. “I am quite a butch girl and I am very attracted to how delicate and feminine you are, even in combats you were defiantly a girl; a gorgeous, pouty, sweet, gentle  and oh so desirable girl. Most girls in that kind of gear lose their gender under the combat clothing but you, no. Everyone knew you were a girl and I wanted to claim you as mine.. I am attracted to you, physically and mentally. I don’t just want you because you’re this delicate, loveable sweet lil thing, I want you because you are Siam O’Hannah, a smart, sweet naive girl who is a fantastic PA, a fantastic cook, and have massive amounts of potential as a designer.”

My head snapped up in shock, “What? How did you know I wanted to be more than your assistant? That I want to try designing gear?”

“I may have flicked through your notebook when you went for lunch. I think the ammunition carrier design has real potential and your design for fitting a 1911 magazine into the spine of an address book and a diary is a wonderful idea. You have promise and just need firearms experience to help fine tune your work!”

I was absolutely astounded Diary!  I had been told my designs had merit and, that I was attractive in less than thirty seconds of each other and told that unlike what I had expected based on what caused me to leave home, I could offer myself only as much as I wanted!  I took a deep breath, “Laura, did I ever tell you why I left Chicago to apply for this job?”

“No, is it important?”

“Yeah kinda.” I took my partner's hand and crawled into her arms, afraid to look at her.  “Well, I was twenty one at that point and living at home.  I had earned a design degree specializing in accessories because I wanted to be a designer and started applying for jobs in Chicago. Eventually, I found a job as a PA in a bank run by a friend of my uncle’s.  Well, I was working there and saving to move out when it happened.”

“It?” Laura interrupted.

I replied “Hush a second and I will explain.  Now, if there are no interruptions?” I replied taking another deep breath and kissing her hand for comfort.

“I came home, it was a Friday, the week before I turned twenty two, so the week before good Friday.  I walked in and put my stuff in my room and headed downstairs.  My Ma and Da were in the sitting room with a young man who I recognized as the son of the manager of my father’s workplace. My dad spoke and he said something which chilled me to the bone, ‘Mary’.”

“Hey wait a minute, Mary?  But your name is Siam, isn’t it?” Laura asked confused.

“Mary was the name given to me at confirmation, and my family uses it a lot, but anyway. ‘Mary’, he said, ‘we have decided, your Ma and I, to find you a partner. This is Steven, he is a good catholic boy and the son of my manager and you will respect us by following our wishes. Now go get ready for a date.’”

Continuing the story I allowed myself to think about that day again, I told Laura the truth:

“I moved to my room in utter shock that they would be so blunt and decide my life for me like that.  I knew they were strict but… I dressed in my most conservative dress and returned downstairs as my father was shaking the boy’s hand. I meekly followed him to his car. We drove to a small restaurant and right from the start it was hateful!  He laid his hand on my thigh without asking, pushing under my calf length skirt with no sense of respect for me. In the restaurant he ordered for me, he made all my choices even down to how much I could eat of the meal!  It was awful!  He paid and we left on his schedule.  We drove to a point that I knew of, but had never visited.  It was nicknamed “Cherry Hill” by the teens and had been so named for so long that there were handmade signs for that name. I was scared and worried. I was really uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t listen. I begged to be taken home, but he wouldn’t listen.  He said he was taking what was his.  His hand ran down my leg under my skirt groping at my” I swallowed, remembering. “flower and I felt sick.  He leered at me, the beer on his breath as he thrust his tongue into my throat.  I felt sick and scared, it felt horrible, oh god it was awful!; him pawing at me like he had earned me. He kept telling me over dinner that when we were married, I wouldn’t be allowed to work. I would raise kids and he would keep me barefoot and pregnant, my degree never used because he said ‘women shouldn’t be educated, they belong at home.”

I was sobbing in my girlfriend’s arms as I was back there.  I was back in that car, locked in that memory and all she could do was stroke my hair gently.

“He carried on and it was so terrifying, my dress tearing, he told me that he was going to take me and I was to lay there and relax.  To get used to it, that this was my future. I pushed him away and he hit me, my dress torn, his hand yanking my panties off as he pinned me in place.” 

I stopped relaying to Laura for a moment, my eyes brimming with tears at the memory, feeling like I was back in that car again.

  “I screamed as he groped my breasts and managed to hit him with a slap, knocking his head against the dash and I took his keys and fled, throwing them off the point to make sure he couldn’t chase me. I walked barefoot down the point until a car’s headlights illuminated my shaking body.  It, thankfully, was a friend from school; well two actually, Lucy and Sophie. They stopped the car when they recognized me, seeing that I was in a state, crying. They asked what was wrong. Shaking, I told them and asked to be taken home. They half carried me into the car and I curled into a ball and cried all the way.

They carried me into the house, my parents were waiting. They had been called by the boy and were waiting for me to explain. I told them what had happened and my father shouted.  Not angry at the boy, but instead at me! I was ‘meant to accept this’ he said. He said ‘you are a woman so you are meant to be at home’, ‘you are his to control and to dominate as he sees fit.’  I am ‘to obey,’ my father said.  Shaking, horrified, I ran to my room in tears and gathered my things. I didn’t want to be forced to spend another date as the plaything of that boy. Sophie called her boyfriend Ben who protected me from my father’s rage and mother verbal abuse until I left the house.  The three of us left in the car together, I wanted to thank Ben but I couldn’t go near him.  He understood, but I still hated the fact that I was so scared.

They helped me look for somewhere away from Chicago and away from my family. Even to the extent of driving me down to the interview here which we had found in a magazine on tactical shooting that Ben owned from his job as a gunsmith. They put me up in a flat owned by a friend of the family who I still rent from, and supported me through all my nightmares.”

I was sobbing at this point, holding Laura so tightly; asking her, begging her not to leave. Asking her to promise what she said was true. Diary, all she did was hold me tightly. She texted work cancelling our days’ work and just held me. We didn’t leave the bed till gone midday and even then we spent the day in our pajamas on the sofa watching old TV shows and talking. I did some sketching of ideas for a handbag that could carry a magazine and also mount a secure holster without being obviously a weapon bag.

 Laura was supportive and wonderful. We dined together in her kitchen, cooking in a natural rhythm that felt perfect, like we had been doing it all our lives. Handing off prepped ingredients with a kiss, providing drinks and utensils as needed, gentle cuddles as we floated past each other, we just clicked. I was kissed by her as we walked back to the living room after washing and drying together and it was what the princess diaries called a perfect kiss, the foot pop and everything. I don’t know why, but Laura treats me like a princess. Not the useless damsel in distress but as someone who can look after myself, but she helps anyway. I am being taken care of without being smothered. Protected without being bubble-wrapped and she shows she loves me without being suffocating.

 I fell asleep in her lap as we watched old episodes of M*A*S*H, and fed each other popcorn. The kind of thing that should have been sickly sweet and nauseating, but because it was her and it was done in earnest with an understanding of the saccharine nature of it, it wasn’t twee it was just lovely. I stirred as I was again carried to bed, her teasing me, “You just drift off because you’re too lazy to walk to bed.”

“Nuhuh, it’s just comfy being carried.” I retorted deciding to be childish. She giggled and kissed my nose casing me to wrinkle it and groan playfully. We hit bed and drifted off together, wrapped around each other just enjoying the contact after kissing passionately yet gentle. Always gentle with each other “G’night my love”, she said.  “Yours”, I replied contentedly as I burrowed into her touch surrounding myself with her body, my feet resting on hers, my back against her chest, her head resting on mine and her arms holding me tight as my hands clasp hers.

XSiamX

Fatal Indiscretion Episode 7

FATAL INDISCRETION EPISODE 7

by Anjie Harrte

Episode 6 recap

After Sherry’s husband, leaves her all hot and bothered to run to the office, a temptation at her front door invites a ménage into her living room. In the middle of the hot fun among the three lovers the garage door opens and Sherry realizes her husband is back.

Now the story continues . . . . .

Episode 7

The garage door closed and the engine of the car was turned off. We scrambled about, picking up clothes and trying to fix up the living room. My heart was beating somewhere in my throat, my mind was racing and my fingers trembled. I laughed out loud and Paul and Sophina looked at me with raised eyebrows. I don’t know why I did it, why the idea of being caught excited me. I showed them into the dining room, a well decorated room that was hardly used because we hardly entertained dinner guests. I heard him come through the kitchen door, he was murmuring something, and then I heard him say, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He was on the phone as usual. I heard his footsteps go up the stairs and I closed my eyes and sighed. The light that was on in the living room was a dim one, so maybe he didn’t notice it, or he was too taken up with his conversation to.

I stood in the living room, dressed in my lingerie with one hand on my waist and one on my mouth as my heart still paced against my chest. He would be entering the bedroom now and I wasn’t there. I moved to the dining room and pulled the door, “I have to hurry upstairs, get rid of her by the time I am back,” I said looking directly at Paul as he leaned against the dining table with his hands crossed on his chest. I turned on my heels and hurried up the stairs. I heard the shower running and I moved to the guest bedroom and grabbed a robe. I kicked out my red shoes there and walked back to the room. I looked around the room, my artwork was still sitting on the bed, his clothes thrown on the floor, I ran my hands through my hair and took deep breaths. I was getting myself ready for more lies.

          I moved to the window and looked out of it, I watched as the tall Indian beauty hurried down the pathway. Paul and I had a score to settle and as soon as this man was asleep I was heading back downstairs.

         “Where were you?” he asked.

        “All over the place,” I blurted.  'Wasn’t that the truth?' I thought to myself.

        “Do you know what time it is, are you having problems sleeping again?” He was opening his underwear drawer and pulling out a pair of boxers.

        “Not really.  Was a bit restless tonight, so I just walked about the place.” I said not daring to move from where I stood in front of the window. The light from the bathroom was the only light in the room so I knew from where I stood he wouldn’t be able to read any expressions on my face.

         “Well I am beat and I am going to take knock out now.” He was getting under the covers.

        “How did it go?” I asked. I knew I should probably just let him sleep, so I could take a shower and let the events of the night slip away, but I wanted to know how the preparations for the audit were going, after all I had a vested interest in the company.

          “We found the bug and ironed it out.” He was fluffing his pillows.

          “How about some details?” I asked moving from the darkness towards him.

          “Not now Sher, I am tired. I have everything under control, you don’t worry about it.” He turned his back to me and I resisted the urge to take my pillow and suffocate him.

           I moved to the bathroom. I stopped in front of the mirror and looked at my image. I closed my eyes and entered a warm shower; there was no sense in judging myself, after all Ryan was doing a good job at it already. I knew this was the beginning of the longest night of my life, so I made the shower quick.

            I hurried downstairs and found Paul sitting in the big sofa reading one of the books from under the coffee table.

             “Let’s go,” I said from the door, “The taxi will meet us on the corner.”

             “Mrs. Miles I really want to apologize for…” I cut him by putting my hand up and moving from the door signaling him to follow me. It was unbecoming of him to grovel.

              As we walked to the corner I made a few needed phone calls. Paul walked in step with me. I knew he was taking in the sight of me. After all; it was almost 1am and I was dressed in a business suit with a laptop and brief case in my hands. When I made the last phone call I sighed heavily as we approached the corner. The taxi wasn’t there as yet. My body was swaying back and forth nervously, “I know you don’t really want to hear what I have to say..” Paul started again.

            “On the contrary Paul, I want to hear everything you have to say, I just don’t want to hear it here, that is all.” I said as I saw the taxi round the corner. Before the driver could start making unnecessary noise I used the light from my cell phone to signal him.

           He pulled in at the corner and we got into the back. After giving him the instructions as to where to go I turned to Paul, “So how much did you say you are getting?”

          “It doesn’t matter Mrs. Miles, I won’t take anything from you; I have already been paid.” His eyes were apologetic but I didn’t buy it. I was furious and in no position to get emotional. My days of being emotional were now all behind me. Tonight I have learnt the true nature of the people I trusted and I was ready to see heads roll.

* * * * * * * * *

When Ryan would wake at 7.00am the next morning, he wouldn’t find me in bed with him or in any other part of the house; he wouldn’t do much of a search either. He would be running late for the auditors expected to arrive at the office for 9am. He would call Barry, the Accountant, and be told that the audit has begun in the board room and Barry couldn’t be disturbed. Hurrying down the roads and asking the security to park his car in the company’s garage he would hurry into the building and down the halls to the board room, but what he would never expect would greet him there; was me sitting at the head of the table as one of the auditors from the private firm explained to me why Inland Revenue was auditing my company.

Staring at me like I was the Antichrist; he would walk around the table and greet people, trying to figure out what was going on. He would pull Barry into a corner and be told that I picked up Barry at his house at 6am this morning and brought him to the office and made him spend the last couple of hours debriefing me on the status of our company. Three hours, however, was not enough to bring me up to date on things I have missed in over a year, so now the private auditor, a woman in her late thirties running a little private accountancy company was explaining the rest. The woman with a small bun on her head, and her spectacles on her nose introduced herself to Ryan as Indi Charan. She was a small bodied Indian woman with milk white skin and small black eyes. She seemed to understand her work even though she had only been in business for herself for five years. She explained to us that the concern of Inland Revenue arose since several companies that we had paid for products and services seemed to have gone out of business. She showed me bills from five companies to which we had paid large sums of money and each company had only been registered about three months before we did business with them and then ceased to exist a few months after. Our bills showed us paying VAT to these companies and these companies didn’t exist long enough to pay over this VAT. Inland Revenue’s concern was that we were moving our funds to these companies so that we don’t have to pay that much tax on our earnings. The problem Barry was having, was pointing out where the product and services were utilized by the company.

Ryan stepped up to the table, running his hand through his curly hair before saying to the room, “These companies submitted tenders to supply us with products for manufacturing, File coded MANU-2340 has all of the tenders submitted by all companies quoting the ones we chose as having the lowest prices.” He flips the pages inside the black folder.

         “So where are the records of the products supplied by these companies, receipts received from these companies?” Indi asks as she spins her chair moving her attention from Ryan to Barry.

          Barry looks to Ryan nervously before stepping up to the table, “File coded INV 63 will have the list of inventory with copies of all receipts from all purchases made from all companies for the past year.”

           I box through the file perusing the names of the companies on the receipts.

         “Where are the internal documents; the documents from the store room to the different departments showing these products were dispersed for usage?” Indi asks.

           “That is none of Inland Revenue’s business, we bought the products and we sold products, we paid the taxes, have the receipts and bills, we also have receipts and bills for products we sold, that is all they should be concerned with.” Ryan retorts in a controlled voice.

              “But I would like to see those documents,” I say, looking at him.

             “Not now Sherry, we can deal with this another time, not all of us have the leisure of disappearing for months and then reappearing and demanding stuff.”

             “No!” I say firmly as I push away my chair and stand up, leaning on my palms on the table, “Because not all of us are Head of the Board of Directors, not all of us own majority share in this company, not all of us are answerable to our investors, BUT I am, ME!” I hit my chest and I lean towards him.

            “Not everything can be about YOU Sherry, this audit is about getting our accounts straight for the Government, we can deal with the internal issues later.”

            “Actually Mr. Miles,” Indi interrupts, “There is another issue that the Government is probing.”

              Ryan shoots her a look as though to say not now. I look at him and try to recognize him. He seems so different standing there in his white shirt tucked neatly into his black pants. He was always a well kept man, always well dressed and I had made sure I kept things this way for him. I remembered the day I met him, the day I married him and the day I buried my father promising him I was going to make life work with this man and the money he left to me.

             “I need a coffee break,” I said as I headed for the door.

              Indi got up and said, “That makes two of us” and she followed me out.

             As soon as the door closed behind me I assumed Ryan was accosting Barry. When I rounded the corner to my office I bumped into Alaine.

            Her files went flying in the air and documents fell all over.

           “What’s the hurry?” I asked her.

          She froze, her eyes set on me, “I was going to make photocopies of these documents for the meeting in the board room.” She almost stammered.

        “That is okay, we are on a coffee break you can slow down.” I told her.

          Just then her phone rang and she looked at the screen as though she had seen a ghost. The ringing was becoming annoying so I urged her, “Why don’t you answer it.”

            From my end all I got of her conversation was, “Hi, No you didn’t, I checked and rechecked it isn’t there, I don’t know, you took it home I am sure, okay, bye.”

             I knew what the conversation was about but it was too late to pry. Instead, I was more interested in the documents strewn on the floor.

           “You know what Alaine, we are going to pick these up, why don’t you take coffee to the boardroom,” I said touching her on the shoulder.

        “Oh that is okay, I can pick them up,” she insisted.

        “Now don’t be stubborn, your boss is waiting for the coffee, I have this covered.”

        She wrung her hands together and suddenly the woman I had respected as being older and wiser, for years, now seemed like just a child to me. I watched her go as Indi and I picked up the documents and headed for my office.

        Indi’s assistant was already there making us coffee. He placed the two cups on my desk and left, pulling the door in behind him.

      “So it is just as you thought,” Indi said to me, “Are you prepared for this?”

       “Am I prepared for what; the biggest shock of my life and the biggest betrayal ever?” I asked taking a sip of the hot liquid and feeling it flow down my throat and warm my inside.

      “Yes, are you sure you can handle this?” she was sipping on hers and watching me over the rim of the cup.

      I heard the footsteps coming down the corridor towards my office and I could feel the tension in the air. I sat in my big leather chair and relaxed, was I really ready for this?

* * * * * * * *

Anjie Harrte - Romance, erotica and mystery with a Caribbean Flavour

Anjie Harrte lives in sunny Guyana where she juggles being a mom, having a fulltime job and running a side business with her passion for writing. You can find her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anjie-Harrte/ ; follow her on twitter @anjieharrte; or keep updated with her writing at http://authoranjieharrte.blogspot.com/.