Why did the woman look so different now? Where terror had possessed her, something dangerous glowed in her eyes. Her expression had hardened — as if a new person had been triggered by Xick's convulsive climax.
Kyros started to strip, but Pale Eyes dropped on her before he had a chance.
"I'm next," Shil told him bluntly.
As if in a dream, Kyros finally got his turn — last. He trembled at the feel of her flesh against his. He reveled in the sensation of her breasts pressing against his chest. He came as he entered. Xicks laughed and pulled him off to take her again. Kyros rolled back, barely hearing the jeers about his premature eaculation.
He glanced over to find her blazing eyes still on his. Amber pools of passion, they reminded him of something feral.
"Maybe we'll keep her for a couple weeks before we sell her to the slavers," Shil suggested.
Kyros waited, shivering in the cool air as one by one, Xicks and the others satiated themselves and sought their pallets. Kyros crawled onto her again, his soul falling into the depths of her glowing amber eyes.
He sighed loudly in her ear, body rocked with instant release. Loose-limbed, he lay on. her, hearing the others snoring on their pallets around the room.
"What's your name, sweet meat?" he asked shyly. God! Those eyes!
"Mmmupphhia," she mumbled and raised her shoulders in a shrug. Her gaze pierced him, taking possession of his soul.
"You won't scream if I take the gag out? You promise? I don't get to talk to none of the women we get. They always go crazy and want to scream and I have to gag them again."
She shook her head.
is fingers ripped the tape loose, leaving her gasping as she moved her tongue. He held the soggy cloth ready, eyes wary in case he had to stick it back.
She swallowed and took a deep breath as he admired her beauty. Could he make her love him? What would it be like to own a woman like this? A warm rush climbed his spine. Nobody would smirk at a man who owned a woman like her!
He started when she whispered conspiratorially, "By the Blessed Gods, is this how you treat an Etarian Priestess?" A secret smile formed on her lips, promising more.
"E-Etarian P-P-Priestess?" he stuttered, mouth going agape as his eyes widened. Could this wondrous. That's why she was so beautiful!
"Trained in the temple to give pleasure — only you have to know how to take it… uh, you are?" She raised an eyebrow and wiggled suggestively under him.
"K-Kyros."
"Have you ever experienced what we call Blessed Eternity?" Her expression challenged him with a hint of something deeper, something passionate and burning.
"I–I gotta wake the corporal. This is too…"
"Shhh!" she whispered. "You cannot go through life giving the finest fruits to others. They will have their chance. As the first to listen to a Priestess, you should have the rewards."
He drank in the hope and promise she offered. "Well, I… I…" He swallowed again, breathing starting to race. "I'm sort of… you know. soft right now. I…"
"Do you think an Etarian Priestess can't cure that? We know secrets to keep a man at his peak for hours. It's simple; let me teach you. You will never have need to disappoint another woman again. Your honors and prowess will be sung forever."
He'd be a real man! Shivering slightly, his clammy body moved in the mingled sweat that had built on her belly.
"You can teach me?" His heart thudded against his ribs so loud she had to hear.
"It will take both my hands, Kyros. There are certain places which need to be touched ever so lightly. Certain points on a man's body which can bring him to a commu-
nion with the Blessed Gods. Leave him in inteal bliss. Would you like to feel the secrets of my strong hands?"
He glanced furtively at the sleeping hulk of the corporal, and worked his lips. "I can't."
"I'm sorry. I suppose my art and secret knowledge will go to whoever they sell me to." She sighed. "I'll miss the experience, Kyros. We are taught to value the feelings of a man when he quivers by the hour from pure Blessed pleasure."
He waged a silent battle — and lost as he remembered the hooting insults of the others. "If I did, well, you wouldn't tell?"
"That would break the vow of a Priestess."
His fingers fumbled at the bonds around her wrists. She sighed contentedly. He straightened as her other arm came loose.
"Now what?" he asked, trembling with eageess, licking his lips.
"Lie here and I'll. Wait, I can't with my legs tied." She let her hands play over him invitingly. His body pounded in a rushing response to her teasing fingers.
Frantic with anticipation, he untied her ankles. "There." He hated it, but he'd started to tremble.
"Lie down, Kyros."
She knelt over him, hands cassing a tingling fire along his flesh. He gaped at her full body and clenched his teeth. She smiled down at him as she slid atop him. Kyros whimpered.
She kissed his eyes closed and massaged his head with her fingertips, then down as if to stroke his throat. He felt something there, smooth and cool.
Her sultry voice commanded: "Push all the breath out of your lungs, Kyros. That's it. Exhale all the way. Now hold it for as long as you can. I want you to keep the air out;
that's right. Show me your strength, Kyros. See how long you can hold it. I'll wait."
He felt his chest start to heave as he fought to keep his lungs empty. Quivering, he gave a quick nod.
His eyes jerked open as she yanked the binding strap tight around his throat. At the same time she smashed her knee up with all the muscular might in her steel-tempered body. He flopped in wretched agony as his eyes started from
their sockets. Mouth agape, his lungs burned and heaved. He tried to thrash as she viciously kneed him again and again. Pain after lancing white pain blasted his brain while his fingers sipped off the plastic cutting so deeply into his puffing flesh. Grayness swirled and sucked him ever downward into fear and agony. staring forever into those burning amber eyes.
Arta Pera watched Kyros' life seep away and it thrilled her. She knew now where the hatred came from. She could see how the loathing had been planted — subliminal clues laced in teachings orchestrated by Magister Bnien.
She eased herself from the limp body, aware the boy's sphincters had loosened. Repulsive death. you are mine to dispense where I will. Arta thrilled with an ecstasy of power.
Massaging her muscles, she slipped a vibraknife from the corporal's weapons belt. In the dim light, she studied the tool — perfect for the needs at hand. The razor-sharp blade — when energized — would vibrate at such a high frequency even bone cut like so much putty.
Eyes oddly glazed, she turned to the sleeping men.
Staffa's tongue felt like a roll of dry velvet in his mouth. The desiccating air scorched his lungs with each panting breath. When he tried to swallow, he ended by gagging.
Around him, the Etarian desert shimmered with the intense white of sintered steel and beat mercilessly at his blistered body. Eyes squinted, Staffa studied the surrounding sands. They danced in weaving mirages. Dune sculpted onto dune and rippled away in an endless glare of fire to be lost against the wavering horizon of sun-seared sky. Sand, a world of burning sand — endless as the pain in his body — stretched to all sides. Nothing lived in that shifting vortex of crystal-white.
He hoisted the yoke over his bleeding shoulders and nodded to the sun-bronzed man across from him. He threw his strength against the weight of the pipe.
"Ho," Kaylla shouted hoarsely as her muscular body took up the slack in the tow rope. The pe ate into her ragged shift and her brown hair swayed with each step as she pulled. The men grunted, and heaved their way forward on stumbling feet.