A Daemon-Horn Blade Ch. 20

Truly, the Viscount Gart d'Bournyss had sold the Duke's daughter for a literal kings random. Undoubtedly the misguided Earl thought that he had bought himself a sure path to a throne with a crown to wear upon his head. Instead, Gwenda had cut him down into small pieces, with a single small wound at a time. His head was now mounted up on top of the roof, on a spear... complete with his genitals excised and stuffed into his mouth, which even in death, his face looked on with quite utter astonishment.

Slowly, the pressing gangs of soldiers loyal to the Justice God began to take over the streets and even begin to press their way into the house. Rowan and his infernal blade could not be everywhere, and Boyle's newly sworn and loyal men were heavily outnumbered and very sorely pressed, falling back inside the house finally even to the great staircase that led up to the Viscount's private chambers, where the Foole and Ashburn slowly tried to tend to all of the Lady Ayleth's wounds. The skin on her back had been flogged mercilessly quite to the flesh, and would prove to mend into another set of permanent scars that no normal healing could ever restore.

Gwenda herself commanded the defense of the staircase and none of the church soldiers could stand for long against her. The fallen were all male, arms-men of the temple, for the Justice God did not allow women to serve him in any but the most menial positions. She fought like a demoness, every later story account of the battle said; her ferocity and boldness quite drove the survivors into fear, and slowly the battleground was again pushed outdoors again to the wide cobblestone city street, where a river of blood now quite flowed the entire way down the hill.

Boyle admitted later that the situation was looking mighty dodgy when another two companies of church arms-men arrived outside of the house. But just as Rowan had gathered everyone to retreat to the rooftop, and was gathering his fury to roast the zealot warriors in the streets below with a taste of infernal flame, the other oppressed churches of The Seven had each finally gathered their few arms-men and faithful followers as well, and they collided with fury into the rear of the Justice-men. The slaughter was appalling on all sides, as no quarter was offered or given to the wounded or the helpless. Terrible carnage was done by both sides, until the very last of the surrounded red garbed Yfelde Soð church soldiers fell in one great last stand, bravely and honorably dying fighting to the last, refusing to retreat or surrender to the very end.

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With nearly all of the Yfelde Soð temple guards and their most zealot supporters now slaughtered, the great vast crowds of people loyal to the memory of The Seven, banished as they might be, filled all of the streets of the city and in a three day long public riot, burned down the great temple of Yfelde Soð, and most of the smaller temples, churches and shrines as well. In fact, anyone at all wearing their red and silver was in much danger from the crowd mob, as the lampposts and trees filled with the hanging rotting fruit of former priests, and also the more zealous worshipers. The air was filled with soot and the smell of rotting flesh for nearly a week, until the final fires died out and the Imperial Guard finally took to the streets to belatedly establish some order.

The suppression of the Justice God in Corælyn had been complete, and even the few surviving priests and lay-fathers quickly left the city, abandoning their few remaining worshipers. Most took ship north to the Great Northern Bay, and the island of Graymyst, where their next largest temple became their sanctuary. It would take many years for them to regain much of their lost power.

As a militant God, who enjoyed by far the lion's share of the temporal power since the Great Banishment, most of their mundane worshippers were either soldiers or nobles from the upper classes. Ever seeking to deal with a 'winner', and never clinging to the past or history, some now found comfort in the increased social and financial success of the Goddess of Mercy, but the many more cynical paid but little mouth service to The Seven, worshiping instead ever more at their existing altars of greed and vice.

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Forbidden by the Weaver's to directly intervene and protect his temple and his followers, The Justice God brooded, and made his own plans for punishing Corælyn, and the Empire that had allowed this travesty to occur.

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"The bastard pedophile cocksucker pierced my clit, cunt lips and tits!" The weak but lividly angry Lady Ayleth shouted, as loudly as she could manage. "I look exactly like the lowest sort of whore, and one for the rough trade, besides! The pig fucking sodomist could barely get it up enough to deflower my virgin ass and he had to have a friend force my maidenhead in his place. Oh, he talked a lot of shit, and he had no trouble fucking and terrorizing a pair of kids that couldn't have been any older than eleven, but he had others to do all of his other dirty work, on me. I hope he is severely burning in Hell! The balance-keeper won't abide his wicked sort for long in the Shadowland, and burn he shall!"

Gwenda, who was trying to tenderly soap Ayleth's slowly healing wounds on her ruined back, didn't entirely disagree, and she hoped as well that the vile Viscount would meet severe punishment from the moment he began his path through the Shadowlands. Still there was only so much mouthiness that she was going to take from her own personal slave girl.

"Hush your mouth you silly cunt, or I'll find some better use for it!" Gwenda gently muttered, gently kissing the unhappy and injured girl on the back of her neck. "I warned you plain and true what would happen to you the moment you disappointed me again. Rowan and Boyle accepted and understand your explanation, and have mostly, more or less, forgiven you... but as far as I'm concerned, until you are standing upon good duchy soil once more, and hopefully with a spear like a proper warrior-maiden of old in hand, you're going to be my personal attendant, and treated with every bit of the same care and courtesy you used to offer your old playmates. You're going to eat my cunt, and often, until you're heartily sick of it! And if I hear any more complaints out of your mouth, I'll even make you clean me out after Rowan has filled me... in both my cunt and ass!

"Yes, Mistress." Ayleth said with a slight giggle. From the moment they had set foot onboard ship, the Lady had prostrated herself, quite willingly for Gwenda's revenge, and her 'mistress' had been indeed been taking good care of her new slave girl. Her body was much to ravaged for any sort of ill-treatment, like more whippings, but she was still quite suitable for the thousands of menial tasks that the stern red-haired girl could endlessly devise for her.

"Frankly, I like your new bare golden rings," Gwenda said, as she let her fingers softly roam to her slave's pierced nipples to tweak and pull them, "and as soon as I can find some, I'll get you your strings of beads to wear off of them! I'm going to get you a nice turquoise bead for your left nipple ring. That stone is Corælyn social shorthand for 'I like big fat cocks and a lot of them, all at one time!' A true shameless party-girl who loves to attend to every cock in the room, and in every hole at once! For your right nipple ring, I need to find a soft light blue stone. That means your lesbian lover is a minor member of the nobility, as my father was only a knight and not quite a baron, at least in title. Another bead also strung off that one will of course be a bright yellow, indicating that you drink my piss gladly as if it were the finest champagne and tend to my toilet needs, although not my ass-fruit... that would be a different brown stone, for a different sort of toilet slave. Pray that you don't piss me off ever again to ever earn that stone! Another bead, of iron, shows that you are my submissive, bound to me in obedience. In fact, that stone should fall after the blue one and before the yellow. Since I now in fact possess you, lawfully loaned by Boyle who is very much now your legal owner, by Corælyn law or at least until you reach home anyway, I am quite entitled to place another string of these stones through your clit ring as well, since I lawfully control all of your rights to sex. I'll pick nice heavy stones too, certain to make your clit tingle with need every time that you take a single step, wiggling your heavy piercings. As for your cunt rings, by custom you could have quite a long string of stones strung there, one on your left lip ring for each of the nearly four dozen men who has taken you so far in your life. Again on your right lip, for the women lovers in your past life, you can add the dozens of attendants that served you there well! In fact, a stone to honor each of their memories, would indeed be a very good thing, if indeed you are quite now determined to act with honor now in your life, as you have so often claimed this last week."

"I shall act with honor, for the words of the Moon-Woman were indeed true. I have acted faithlessly and without honor, and I truly deserve to serve you now in penance. I spoke earlier of my dream, of meeting my slain attendants once last time on the border of the Shadowlands, and of my sincere regrets. I shall do as you say, wear a string of stones for my lost friends. It shall be a long string of beads, I fear, perhaps longer than the nearly four score men who violated me, but to remember the harsh lesson of my ill-service to them, and having fled my friends, companions and protectors for folly, I shall wear their stones as well... although I feel that I am now too soiled, a well used slut, for any noble husband to ever accept me, even for my lands and titles, or even for the inheritance of the Duchy. The shame of my complete disgrace will forever be too much for any man to accept."

"Perhaps not quite all men." Gwenda whispered, gently kissing Ayleth's cheek while her right hand gently tugged on her labia lip rings and briefly casually caressed and twisted her clit ring. "There are yet a few good men in this world who could see past your dishonor and accept your troth, and to honor you thereafter."

"Such a man would be indeed a prince among men!" The Lady gently wept as she held herself against Gwenda, with her head lying soft against her mistress's bare breasts, already well bathed earlier in the small washing tub that had been so laboriously heated and filled, once taken to Gwenda's cabin, which she shared with Rowan.

Today was their first day on the great warship, under sail with a great convoy of other ships from Oswein that had sailed into the great canal of Corælyn, a week and a day after Ayleth's rescue. Her strength was still not great, and she moved slowly, even without clothing, as her slowly healing whip marks began to fade. The Lore-Master had tended to her physical wounds well, but now Ayleth's inner wounds, those to her soul needed healing as well.

Gently, and with sincere fondness, Gwenda kissed the lips of her slave girl and together they shared their very first kiss together.

"My dear silly cunt, you know we all do love you, much in spite of yourself! Never fear to trust us ever again! Your plan wasn't entirely foolish, but a little extra careful examination of the man's foul character would have shown you that such a logical and obvious attempt at negotiation was quite doomed to failure from the start. If you could not wait to act, then you should have at least spoken to us before you left, so that proper security for you could have been provided. Perhaps then, if Rowan had slain the evil Viscount there that afternoon at his home, all of the riot deaths might have been avoided. Still, it was very good to see the dreadful priests of the Justice God put into their place!

"Indeed! In fact I think I shall banish a few of their priests as well, once I get home, like that nasty one that ran the village church at Swanford. I could never stand him!" Ayleth smiled, as she nuzzled and kissed her mistresses breasts. She had given them lots of loving attention with her mouth earlier, while she had bathed her mistress, but aroused by Gwenda's tugging of her rings and the hot kisses, she yearned to serve her in further more intimate ways now.

"My love, now it time for you to assume your place, on my bed with your tongue quite busy on my own clit!" Gwenda giggled as she arose from her tub, allowing Ayleth to dry her all over with a towel. "Perhaps I shall ask Rowan to pierce me as well, as he much admires the simple beauty of your rings as well, as does Boyle, whose trousers quite become tented and uncomfortable with an erection when he looks upon them. I shall have a good deal of strung beads to add to my own lips, as my history has been a bit slutty as well, for I do admit to having a most intemperate youth! Still, my heart-song Rowan loves me for who I am, and not the dozens of lads and lasses who I shared some fun in a grassy field, haystack, bathing river, or secluded barn with at home. Your true-lover, when you find him, shall bear you the same honor and forgiveness!"

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An hour later, Gwenda was enjoyed a screaming orgasm that was so loud and violent sounded that it suddenly brought a sheepish Rowan and Boyle charging into the cabin, expecting to find that some sort of attack or mischief had been done. Instead, the ladies smiled at their men and Gwenda kissed Ayleth tenderly again, before moving placed her own lips and tongue upon her slave girls still tender pierced clit, and rewarded her for her good service. Together, sharing love as equals for the moment, they put on such a torrid show that Boyle quite fled at once from the room. Surprised and slightly aroused, Rowan semi-discretely left the cabin as well, but continued to watch with some interest through the crack in their doorway.

Not in the least fooled, Gwenda at length order her slave girl to retreat to a small chair, to watch as she beckoned loudly to Rowan to come back into the cabin and strip, to satisfy her need for his cock. Watching from her chair, the Lady watched and masturbated as Gwenda first sucked her life's-companion to full rigidity, and then climbed upon his hips to ride upon his cock with a fury until he had achieved his copious release inside of her.

Arising from the bed, Gwenda approached her slave girl to offer her the opportunity to clean out her well-filled cunt, but the Lady Ayleth declined sadly.

"Cedany swore to me that I would never touch her Rowan in love-play. Such a reward was for you, my dear mistress only! I am not worthy of tasting his ripe and flowing seed, and as such it belongs entirely to you, for you said to me earlier that your moon-cycle was nearly perfect tonight for taking his seed into your fertile womb! Instead, might I use my fingers to scoop out his creamy goodness for you to taste? This service I would indeed be willing to serve!"

With Gwenda's nod, her devoted slave gently spread the wet cunt lips of her lover and after giving her mistresses clit a small kiss, she inserted her fingers as deeply as she could to scoop out every single drop of Rowan's seed that she could, placing fingerful's into her waiting lover's mouth. When at last she was done she was surprised to find Gwenda's sticky mouth questing for hers, and a tiny remaining part of his semen was in fact shared by the tongues of the two lovers.

"Lick my cunt, lips and clit well, my dear for it is not Rowan that you share in love, but instead me! Lick your tongue deep to clean me well as I set myself onto your face as my dearest enters into my ass. Also, I command you to lick his balls well as they empty again into me, for this shall be for my pleasure and not his. Your services are to me, and for my duty, and let me, not the shade of his departed, color the terms of your service to us. No, his seed shall never enter your womb, but let me decide what an act of love is, and what an act of duty is instead! "

Indeed, it was a long night one for the three lovers together in bed, but at no point did Rowan's cock ever enter into the Lady's well eaten cunt, but it must be admitted that her mouth and tongue were put, in a dutiful sort of way, to a great deal of wandering about in her cleanup duties!

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"What was that about being a shameless slut in your youth? And who says that your husband is going to tolerate any of that sort of behavior any further?" Rowan jokingly asked Gwenda, later when they were alone in bed. Her slave having curled up earlier in an extra blanket on the floor was already apparently fast asleep.

"Old, ancient past history... as long as you promise to not make a fuss about the remarkable number of beads I add to both my past male lover's bead-string on my left cunt-lip ring, and my female lovers on my right one, as soon as you have me pierced."

"Are you really sure you want to follow this one rather peculiar Aldarian custom? I intend to be a respectable smith again some day, and I can't have my dutiful and obedient wife displaying all of her exotic jewelry down at the local lake or bathhouse! They'll get curious, and you'll start corrupting perfectly decent ladies into becoming shameless lovers, for the extra beads, if nothing else."

"I promise that once we're a respectable married couple, I'll refrain from my earlier wanton ways. Besides, I've always preferred just a single lover at a time, and not quite an entire group of men or women all at once. The Lady Ayleth needed a bit of sincere comfort and a sign that the terrible things that had happened to her shouldn't ever shy her away from feeling love or enjoying sex again in the future. I do not intend to bring her to our bed, with you my dearest, again, or at least not soon; that would only confuse her and possibly lead her away from the path that I think she needs to take next. You should have fucked her nice little well-scarred ass when I gave you permission to. The way she licked your cock clean after being in my ass was so nasty that it kept you rock hard for the rest of the night. You should have accepted her offer to screw her little juicy ass silly!"

"I wanted to, really... but I didn't think it would be right. You've seen the way Boyle looks at her! The two of you can have all of the feminine fun that you want, but I'd rather her first true sexual love be with sometime more special to her than me, even if you keep giving her lessons on how to give the perfect blow-job, using my cock as the training instrument!"

Your right about Boyle, and I just got carried away with all of the nasty fun. She is really quite sincere about her wish to reform, so start cutting the silly girl a little slack. When we rejoin and merge with the other ducal armies, our budding young noblewoman is going to have to start to stand up on her own two feet, and without any of us cringing too visibly every time she opens her mouth. When we get our army home we're going to need her to be able to command, for real and not just for show. The Foole says that he will continue do his best to guide her, but I'm going to need to be there with her, as a friend and as a companion, and not just a lover. We've got a pair of duchies still to rescue, and it is now time for duty to take the place of fun and dalliance. Like it or not, our little holiday in Corælyn is now over. We've got the Tear, taken from the Viscount's private treasure horde, and we need to form back up the Great Southern Army and get it ready to take back Tellismere, before the Foole says that the Tear can even be used. Sometimes I don't understand Oddtus at all, or exactly what perverse game he's playing! No one understands the rules of the game, and I'm sure that a lot more friends, companions and even lovers are going to die before we get this insane confusing mess straightened out!"