Road to Tulian

  Two Days After Encountering Sporaton Scouts

  Evie looked back at the Irregurs following her, judging how closely they were paying attention to their surroundings. Most were focused rgely on maintaining control of their steeds, which Evie could hardly fault, considering her own ck of riding skills. Those that had a solid grip on the reigns were keeping their heads on a swivel, searching for potential threats. Few, if any, were paying Evie any mind.

  Which was extraordinarily fortunate, because Evie did not want to be witnessed at this particur moment. She and Master had come to an understanding before she set out on this trip, and until a few minutes ago, that understanding had worked fwlessly.

  Evie's colr put certain compulsions on her. This was inevitable, part and parcel of divine sve colrs, but greatly complicated by the more lustful aspects of Amarat's Champion. Sating the demands, both magical and personal, had proven thankfully trivial once Master had gotten over her initial compunctions. Multiple daily doses of heavenly cock had considerably malformed Evie's once-normal libido, but that was hardly a concern, as Master was more than capable of providing for the new desires she invoked. The first true difficulty they had encountered with the colr's bond– beyond the ethical– came during the st week's trip, which was the first extended period of time Evie had spent away from Master. Before then, Evie recalled, the longest they had been out of earshot of one another was... five hours, perhaps, after the battle for Tulian Harbor? And that had been a considerable outlier. Most days Evie was within arm's length of Master from sunup to sundown.

  Which meant that this st week had been something of an experimental period for the both of them. Even sves bound to more mundane masters had daily requirements for showing obeisance, usually kissing their hand or bowing deeply before their person each day, so there had at least been precedent to draw from when it came to workarounds. A sve traveling on the orders of their master, for example, was by definition serving their whims, and so had no need of daily supplication. Master and Evie had both agreed that the limits on her actions imposed by an order, no matter how open-ended, risked compromising the mission, and so discarded that simplest option.

  That left the alternative. A colred sve that was left behind when their master traveled still had to show daily deference, even without the physical presence of an owner to bow to. Evie was well aware of the room her mother had kept for the purpose, where her sves would spend ten minutes prostrating themselves before a portrait of her when she was away on business. The process had the smack of cult worship to it, which wasn't an accident, knowing her mother. Normal owners could not manipute their sve's minds and perceptions as Master could, so the risk of subversive action, no matter how limited, still existed. Philosophers rgely agreed that the gods had added the requirement to encourage a sve's obedience not just in their actions, but in their thoughts, too.

  Therein lied the first complication with Evie's weeklong exile from Master's body. Because, just as Amarat did not accept bowing for her Champion's sves, she did not accept mere prostration before a portrait when Master was absent. No, Evie had to show Passion befitting the sve of Amarat's Champion, whether or not Master was physically present. Evie had expected as much, and prepared for the trip accordingly, but her prediction being proven correct did little to assuage her mortification.

  She slipped her hand into the leftmost saddlebag, reassuring herself that the garment was still present. One of Master's undershirts, one she had worn during their sparring sessions. Unwashed, of course, with Master's scent still suffusing it. Each night in her tent, when she thought it least likely anyone would come looking for her, Evie reverently brought the shirt out, put it to her nose, and fingered herself to ecstasy as thoughts of Master floated through her mind. She'd learned to gag herself with a leather belt, after Jaran had come investigating the noises on the second night. After that initial hiccup, she'd fallen into a routine. An incredibly debasing routine, but a routine.

  But now? Now, as if all that wasn't bad enough? Now Master was in the process of breaking the single tenet they had established for this trip. Right now, before noon had even struck, Master was being attended to. That was only supposed to happen at night, when Evie could be in private. They had agreed on that. Despite that agreement, Evie could feel phantom touches ghosting across her skin, transmitted through the bond, and couldn't fully suppress the reactions they produced. Somewhere in Tulian, Evie was acutely aware, Master had someone's hands slipping under her shirt, smooth palms sliding up her ribs. Evie squirmed in the saddle as the hands reached towards Master's– and therefore Evie's– breasts, gracefully gliding across her nipples. Evie hadn't yet determined who was responsible for this, but if things progressed further, she'd figure it out. Master treated each of her lovers wholly uniquely, just as they felt and tasted different under her attention. Thanks to the bond, Evie knew Vesta, Ketch, Nora, and Hurlish's body nearly as well as she knew Master's.

  Thoughts of taking her revenge on the perpetrator were all she could take soce in at the moment, because she knew she was minutes away from utterly ruining any professional integrity she might have possessed in the eyes of those traveling with her. As one invisible hand circled her breast, the other wrapping around the back of her neck, Evie looked back at the convoy. There had to be a way through this, didn't there?

  At a gnce, she couldn't see one. The trainee Irregurs that she had brought on this trip numbered over thirty, enough to attack the peasants accompanying the Night's Eye and escape with their lives. With the addition of a cook, healer, and two hired horsemen on pack mules, there were over three dozen individuals riding behind her. They weren't in a particurly forested part of Tulian at the moment, and the sun was bright, the sky cloudless. The ndscape was mostly rolling hills and rainwater ponds, the shade of occasional cypress trees the closest thing to privacy. There was absolutely nowhere to hide.

  Evie offered a brief prayer to Amarat, pleading for Master's patron to influence her owner into pleasuring whoever-it-was with mouth alone. It would be dizzyingly arousing, to have the taste of a woman clenching around her tongue while she rode, but it wouldn't knock her out of the saddle. In contrast, if Master started to properly fuck someone, Evie knew she'd be unable to stay standing, much less keep her voice under control.

  Though, she cynically thought, who in the world can resist the pull of Master's cock? The goddess gave it to her for a reason. I doubt Amarat will be open to the idea of her Champion withholding such a gift.

  Evie finished her prayer just as a tongue found itself on Master's breasts, lovingly swirling around the nipple. The sensation increased as Master greedily pushed her chest into the mouth, and Evie found herself reflexively mirroring the motion, spine arching into the open air. She quickly brought herself under control, surreptitiously scanning behind her once more. None seemed to have noticed.

  If Evie didn't do something, she'd end up id out in the dirt, moaning and writhing with senseless abandon while the Irregurs gathered around to watch. It was one thing to do so before Master, who could demand of her anything she wished, and another to do so before an audience Master prepared for just such a purpose, but the Irregurs? The elite troops that she had painstakingly trained from the ground up? No. Evie couldn't countenance that.

  "Jaran," she called, every ounce of willpower focused on keeping her voice even. The boy drew his horse closer as Evie felt lips crash into her own, an insistent tongue searching for entrance to her mouth. "I am going to go scout ahead, but do not want the column to hurry. There is- is-" Master's tongue had returned the favor, taking in the taste of another woman, "-is business that I must attend to without others present. A secondary objective, you understand?"

  Jaran nodded, looking mildly confused. "I understand the orders, ma'am, but why weren't we told about other pns? At least let a few of the fellows tag along, in case something pops up."

  This damn boy! Why must he question everything? He was well suited for Master's pns of an individualistic society, at least, but she couldn't care less about that in the moment. An invisible specter was ravaging her neck with tender kisses, sucking deep hickies into the skin, and the boy wished to speak of tactics.

  "It is a private matter!" Evie snapped. Jaran pulled back, shocked, but nodded. Evie started to say more, to mollify the undue insult, but was stopped by fingers trailing down her stomach, heading for the heat between her legs.

  Evie popped the reigns of her horse without another word, searching for two hills that y close enough to form a valley. The farther the better, giving the convoy less time to catch up to her, but that all depended on how patient Master was feeling at the moment, and Evie knew she was a decidedly impatient woman.

  Evie's cws extended from her fingertips to dig into the leather reins as she felt a hand reach beneath her belt, grasping a piece of anatomy she didn't actually have. The fact that a cock was absent between her legs didn't lessen the feeling in the slightest, and she gasped, leaning into the saddle as her horse galloped. She'd never been a good rider, and the slow stroke that Master was being treated to ruined her rhythm entirely. She bounced awkwardly off the saddle, the bumping pressure against her real anatomy growing more distracting as Master's breath caught in her chest. She felt Master buck her hips into the touch, seeking to bury herself in the heat of an unknown palm, and Evie's hips involuntarily ground forward in sympathy.

  Her horse started to slow, confused by the erratic guidance Evie was providing it. She slipped her feet from the stirrups and tried to use only the reins to direct it, but things were progressing too rapidly. Master's cock was now buried between the thighs of a woman, her nimble fingertips picking apart the ties of what Evie assumed to be a corset. The bond always strengthened in moments like this, and now Evie could feel the texture of clothing rustling against her skin, soft whispers of long hair trailing along Master's body. She still hadn't figured out who it was she was going to kill when she arrived back in Tulian, but that discovery wasn't far away. Evie could feel Master's arousal crashing through her in waves, a mind-numbing heat radiating from Evie's colr.

  She abruptly pulled her horse to a stop, stumbling from the saddle. A burning hot wetness was pressed against the tip of Master's cock, eager breath tickling her colrbone. Evie made it only a few steps farther, falling into a ditch, the closest thing to privacy she'd found. The grass was cold and muddy, hardly a pce to be doing this, but the sensations of Evie's own body were fading away. Her body was more Master's than hers, at this point, and Master was ying across a warm and welcoming softness.

  Master pushed her the head of her cock in, a searing tightness welcoming her. Evie's hips shoved up in the open air as she bit her lower lip. Why was Master always so damn patient? With a cock like that, Evie would have never bothered to take so much time. She would have buried herself in the willing body beneath her without hesitation, taking it as her own, showing the woman why she belonged beneath Master.

  Master was far crueler than that. Evie chewed on a knuckle to hide her whine as Master continued to slowly split the woman beneath her open, dragged in by the quivering excitement of her body. Evie's free hand flew to her pants, popping open the top button, shoving her hand towards her pussy. A finger against her clit had another pitiful groan slipping from her mouth, but it still wasn't enough.

  She needed Master to start thrusting. She needed it. Master always took her time with her women, relishing the sight of their eyes rolling back in mindless delight, and she might have thought that was the polite thing to do or something like it, but as the most frequent recipient of the treatment, Evie thought it hideously rude. Who wouldn't want Master's cock plowing them open as soon as possible, forepy be damned?

  Evie's useless bucking of her hips into the open air did nothing to speed Master's thrusts. Evie felt the pussy of another woman slowly work its way down Master's shaft, heat crawling down it inch by thick inch, until finally Master bottomed out, her pelvis pressed to the other woman.

  And, somehow, Evie still hadn't recognized who Master was fucking. It wasn't Hurlish, who would never have accepted the slow pace Master was setting, nor was it Vesta, who invariably began with her mouth. Ketch did whatever Master ordered her to, but was still in Sporatos, and Nora was away with the Navy, which left who?

  Someone new, Evie decided. Master had found herself a new pything, and Evie wasn't even there to watch. The very thought had her groaning even louder, imagination spinning out of her control.

  The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Master was vishing the woman with kisses about her breasts and her neck, slowly pumping in and out of her pussy. That was what she did when she was picking apart a new partner's preferences. Had Master encountered some beautiful woman on the street, one of the few brave enough to meet her eye?

  Evie's mind was filled by images of Master trading flirtatious gnces with a buxom woman in the market, speaking in innuendos too soft and clever for those nearby to pick up on the subtext. The woman listening to Master's melodious voice, ughing at her jokes, slowly moving closer and closer, until a hair's breadth separated them, the woman utterly fallen under Master's spell. Master wrapping an arm about the inexperienced girl's shoulder, guiding her to a dark alleyway, pinning her to a wall with the fervor of a brutal kiss, a passion the woman had never known before. The woman growing wet beneath her commoner's clothes, Master hiking up her dress, taking her then and there, with the woman moaning Master's name, any thought beyond Master's cock shattered.

  Evie's whimpering grew higher pitched as, so far away, Master began to pick up the pace. Evie felt breasts pressing into her own, Master bent low over the stranger, chest to chest. The woman's tits were bouncing with each thrust, her legs trying to wrap around Master's waist, but the way she was split open with each thrust had her muscles quivering, cking the strength to truly pin Master in pce. Evie's hand fell away from her mouth, moving to her breast, pinching and kneading the nipple. The woman clenched each time Master buried herself to the hilt, the throbbing of her pussy squeezing the length of Master's shaft, and Evie pumped her hips in time, fingers circling her clit with ever greater fervor.

  Perhaps it wasn't a stranger in the market that Master had found. Evie's addled mind conjured thoughts of Master in their rooms at the Peasant's Theatre, a maid mistakingly coming in to clean the space while Master was still present. Master, ever the gentlewoman, had encouraged the woman to keep to her duties, not wanting to disturb her schedule. The maid had happily agreed, going about the room with a duster and basket of supplies, and Master had decided to make idle conversation. The maid, intimidated at first, had quickly warmed to Master's charms, and soon little work was being done by either, a pleasant rapport built. Before long, the maid was climbing dders to dust things that didn't need dusting, bending from the hips instead of the knees to lift things, a hand subtly pulling her dress tight about her shapely ass. When Master looked away the maid would fold up the edges of her dress, exposing her toned legs, and Master slowly moved away from her desk, work forgotten. The maid's comments grew huskier, Master's jokes suggestive, and before they knew it, the maid was compining of how her feet hurt, and that she wished for somewhere soft to sit.

  Evie felt a tongue slip into Master's mouth once more, far sloppier and more desperate than before, and seized on the the idea of a maid as her fantasy of choice. The tongue wasn't experienced, just as a young woman might be, just the right sort to take the risk of seducing her employer. As Master's thrusts grew faster, deeper, her breasts bouncing on her chest, Evie's imagination was afme with the thought. She abandoned her clit, burying two fingers into herself, and finally allowed herself to be lost to the fantasy.

  To help the poor maid, who clearly needed a break, Master had of course offered her own chair. The maid, ever so polite, refused to discomfort her employer, and Master had found the simplest compromise. The maid was swept into straddling Master's p, voice quavery with nerves as she locked eyes with Master from inches away. Master's hands would roam up and down her sides, feeling the curves beneath her uniform, and Master, ever the tease, would speak as if nothing were out of the ordinary. She would ask after the maid's job, her family, if she thought her wages were fair, all while devilishly teasing the poor woman with feathery touches. The maid's voice would crack and shift as she tried to answer, eyes fluttering every time Master's hands neared her hips or chest, but Master would keep a perfect poker face, refusing to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary.

  This would continue until the maid was shaking like a leaf in Master's p, responses nearly incoherent, her hips involuntarily grinding against the growing hardness beneath Master's clothes. Only then, when the maid's resolve broke and she finally begged Master to touch her properly, would things progress. Master would savage her neck with kisses, grind the woman's pussy against her cock through the yers of clothing, and begin to slowly pick her apart. The maid would whine and plead hopelessly, no longer sure of what she wanted, beyond more of Master's body, and Master would still take her time, building her new pything's desire to a razor's edge.

  Evie's eyes rolled back in her head as, so far away, Master finally abandoned her restraint. Her hips smmed repeatedly into the pussy of that unknown maid, spping almost hard enough to bruise. Evie felt nails dig into her back, hard enough to draw blood, and the pain was utterly exquisite. Evie's moans degraded into a repetitive panting cry, her fingers pounding into her pussy as her palm rubbed furiously at her clit. The woman Master was fucking was so tight it was almost unbelievable, every inch of Master's cock squeezed by delectable pressure. Evie felt herself begin to cry Master! between breaths as her peak approached, tugged along by Master's own pleasure.

  Suddenly the legs around Master's hips tightened, strength returning for one crucial moment. Evie felt the woman arch against Master's chest, trembling pathetically, and she knew the half-dressed maid was screaming Master's name loud enough for the entire Peasant's Theatre to hear it. Her pussy convulsed on Master's cock, a flood of slick coating Master's pelvis, and Master pounded once, twice, thrice, each time burying herself deeper, lifting the woman's hips to find a better angle until suddenly, finally, Master's cock began to pulse.

  Evie's eyes tore open as her entire body curved, back lifting into the air as her climax followed after Master's.

  Her body was awash with sensations foreign and personal, her pussy cmping down hard on her fingers as she curled them up into the perfect position, all while she felt Master's cock pulse time and time again, torrents of hot cum shoved deep into the woman beneath her, then shoved even deeper as Master's hips pumped and pumped, twitching ever forward, as if trying to permanently impale herself in the luxurious heat wrapped around her.

  Evie's scream was ragged, uncontrolble, and she couldn't do anything other than accept that it was coming from her throat, any ability for restraint hopelessly dashed.

  Evie held her arching pose for several seconds, quivering with her hand shoved down her pants, then colpsed back onto the mud as her muscles gave out.

  White dots swam behind her eyelids. So far away, Master's final pumps of cum were drawn from her cock, the still-twitching pussy coaxing out every st drop. Evie writhed nguidly in the mud, so lost in the afterglow that even the slightest movement of her muscles was pleasurable.

  She had no idea how long she y like that, but when she opened her eyes, the sun was still hanging mostly in the same spot in the sky.

  "Gods," she groaned, finally rolling over. She could feel mud caking her back and hair. "Why must she be like this?" Evie forced herself up into a sitting position, blinking her eyes to clear the tears.

  "...Um?" A voice asked. "Are you alright?"

  Evie went rigid. Slowly, horror filling her, she turned to the noise. Atop the nearest hill, standing sck-jawed, was a vilger. Some boy she didn't recognize, barely into adulthood, staring at her with wide eyes.

  "I just... um... I heard a noise, like someone was in trouble, so I came runnin'..." The boy waved a crudely carved wooden truncheon he carried. "But then I saw ya, and it didn't look like you needed help... or, ah, not the help I got in me, anyway, so..."

  The boy was blushing so furiously that it looked like he'd been roasted above an open fire. Evie hadn't taken the time to survey her surroundings before being lost to the pleasure. For all she knew, he could have seen everything, from start to finish.

  "What's your name?" Evie asked.

  "Ton," he replied nervously.

  "Ton." Evie rolled the name around her tongue, putting on the most severe expression she could manage while her thighs were still quivering. "Ton. Alright, Ton. Let me make something clear. If you ever, for the rest of your life, speak a word of what you just saw to anyone, I will know. And I will kill you."

  Ton looked at her battle-scarred armor and gulped. He nodded. "I understand, ma'am. Uh... none of my business, really."

  "It was not. In fact, you should have left the moment you saw me."

  "I just... I thought you was having a fit or something, one of those sea-zures. Was going to call a healer..." His words trailed off, the excuse feeble even to his ears.

  "I do not care. Never, ever, speak of it again."

  "Yes'm," he said, imitating a hasty military salute. He turned to leave, then paused, clearly debating on whether or not to speak further. "But, ah, ma'am, if you're gonna... do that... I think there might be better pces to, y'know, do it. Than here, y'know."

  Evie shakily stood, frowning severely as she searched for her horse. "I don't care for your advice, Ton."

  "Ah course! Ah course, ma'am, y'know better than me. But, um, so close to a vilge just seems..." He gnced at her expression and made the wise decision to give up on the sentence. "Never mind. Have a good day, ma'am."

  The boy retreated over the hill as fast as he could without running, clutching his truncheon like a lifeline. Evie stretched, beginning the process of cleaning the mud off her armor, and looked about.

  So close to a vilge, he said? What is the boy talking about... Evie took a few steps forward, craning her head over the small hill she'd sheltered behind.

  Her heart stopped.

  A few dozen feet away, well within shouting distance, was a row of houses. A vilge, one that she'd have discovered if she'd paid the slightest attention. It was a river fishing vilge, and without fields to indicate its proximity, Evie hadn't a clue it had been there.

  Ton was currently speaking to a small crowd of vilgers gathered behind one of the houses, all looking rather curious to hear what he was saying. She watched Ton flounder, trying to find some expnation other than the truth, and it didn't look like the other vilgers were buying it. The sounds Evie had been making had been... distinct. One of the vilgers gnced her way, eyebrows raising.

  Evie dropped to her knees to hide her face, an unbelievable heat racing through her cheeks. They knew. They had to know. Gods, what a mess. They'd listened to it all. They'd heard her chanting "Master!" over and over again, heard her begging Master to come already.

  A second thought struck her, more horrifying than even that. This vilge was along the path that the convoy would be taking. Jaran and the others would likely want to stop to chat, or buy supplies, or at least purchase a hot meal. And there was no conceivable way that Evie's dispy would not be a topic of discussion.

  Evie spun about, frantically looking for her horse, and began to formute reasons to avoid the vilge. Preferably forever. Maybe Master could be convinced to split the popution up and bury the buildings in a ndslide. It was the only option. She couldn't be known as a wanton whore, too desperate for Master's cock to restrain herself.

  Evie shuddered, the thought of such a reputation striking home. To be seen in public with her colr proudly dispyed, all knowing exactly what she was. Despite the fact that Master was no longer burying herself in a woman, Evie felt her pussy twitch.

  No, absolutely not. No matter how much I've done with Master, there is a limit.

  Isn't there?