Day Off For Three

"Oh, Royce," she moaned, moving slowly under him, her hands pulling his hips tight against her eager, receptive pussy. She lifted her legs again, clamping them tight around him. "That feels so good. Come in me all you want, my love. You just fill my pussy all up. Give it all to Susan."

"Oh. My. I didn't expect that."

"I liked it. A lot," she murmured. "And not just because we're trying to have a baby. You aren't done are you?"

"Uh, no." His cock was still twitching, creaming her.

"I meant, you and I still have more to talk about, right?"

"Yes."

"Mmmm. That's nice." When his cock stopped throbbing, she sighed, lowering her legs back out again. The warm, sticky fluid felt good, soothing.

"That's the first time that's happened with us," he marveled.

"I certainly hope it won't be the last. I mean it, Royce. You don't have to hold back your own pleasure until I orgasm. Really. Feel free to come inside me anytime. I feel sexy, knowing my body pleasured you like that." She kissed his chest, then licked his skin, inhaling his scent.

From the bed came the distant sounds of snoring.

Royce grinned.

Susan snickered, then started laughing. "Poor baby," she said at last. "She didn't get much sleep last night. Tossing and turning. Come to think of it, we didn't get much either. I woke up at two bells because a frisky man was playing with my pussy."

His face darkened. "About that. Her dreams were pretty chaotic. Dark and scattered."

"You were reading her?"

"Not intentionally. I ask before I try to read the thoughts of others. You know that. She was open, though, broadcasting a collage of images. I heard her mumble, 'Dianne.' She dreamt of when we found you and her. And the others."

The joy in Susan turned to cold lead, its heavy, oppressive weight pressing down on her.

He saw the look on her face and it wounded him, yet he felt compelled to continue. "We've never talked about this. I know this is painful for you, but I'm wondering if it doesn't have something to do with how the spell affected her."

Susan bit her lip. Eleven years ago, on the second half of their Rite of Adulthood, when they were out in the wilderness alone, testing their survival skills, she and her sister had been captured by slavers. Had the marks burned into her thigh, the numbers tattooed below the brand. Gang-raped more times than she cared to remember. Their raucous laughter. The blood. The harsh, stabbing pain in her pussy and ass that made walking agony. No time to heal before the next assault. Her sister, more beautiful, had suffered more often than herself. Chained down by steel manacles in the back of a wagon, unable to fend them off. Guilt and shame for admitting that she was thankful she was not as pretty. Grief, pain, terror. And noticing that every once in a while the woman taken away never returned.

The slavers had obviously known about the Rites, knew they would be scattered in pairs in the wilderness, vulnerable to large, armed parties. Hundreds of young people, all captured by those foul men. Susan and Charlotte Ann had been their prisoners -- no, their slaves for more than two weeks. Their brother Thorband and younger sister Arionna had been enslaved for much longer. Handsome Thorband, a big and gentle man, had endured rape, too, for some of the Hellenes favored sodomy. Arionna had been brutalized so badly and so often, she had ceased talking altogether, her speech reduced to growls and snarls.

Then Royce had been captured. He let himself be branded and then endured gang rape while his sister, Dianne, invisible, learned their numbers and their plans, then passing on by telepathy what she learned to their families at home. Dianne saved Charlotte Ann personally, for when Dianne found her, she was once again chained down, legs spread. But that night, they had intended to sacrifice her afterward, dedicating her slain body to Ares, the Hellenic god of war. Enraged, Dianne killed them all, freed Charlotte Ann and healed her body, and together they killed more slavers and freed more prisoners until the army arrived, led by Royce's parents and aided by her own. Not a single slaver escaped that bloody night. The other two slave camps operating nearby were similarly dealt with.

Some of the captured had already been sent on to the Caloren States where they were sold. The Prince sent agents to retrieve them. Where they could, some were freed by coin. The others were simply taken. Hundreds were rescued, but even afterward, scores were unaccounted for.

The aftermath was harder still. Counseling was mandatory. Ordered by Prince Caernach, Royce's father, and supported by Valeeta Ramen, the chief High Priestess. Many of the young people also opted for some sort of magical memory alteration, to blur or even erase the horrors. Seared into Susan's mind was her bright and ever cheerful sister Arionna, knives in her hands, howling as she rolled naked, covering herself in blood and gore, hacking at the dead. And the horrified mixture of repulsion and desire to join her.

Susan's hands knotted into fists, her breathing tense.

"I'm sorry, Susan. I see this is more difficult than I--"

"Up, up, up!" she heaved, pushing on his chest.

He slipped out, and made to rise, but she reached for him. "No! Don't go! I'm sorry. I just .. I just ... It just got to me. I didn't mean it. Stay, Royce. Please. Stay. Don't leave me."

Susan forced herself to relax, her face determined. She stroked his cock with her hand until his erection returned. Then she lay back down, lifting her legs, spreading them. She held out her hand, inviting him. He moved back over her, and she guided him back in.

"It is difficult," she admitted, making herself look directly into his brown eyes. "Bear with me, please. I won't have our union sullied by those memories. What we have between us is freely given by us both. It is love. Those bastards hurt and stole from us both. The acts aren't the same. They aren't. They aren't the same at all." Tears welled up.

He took a long breath, shifting his weight. "They just both involve having a hard cock being forced inside you. That's about as personal as it gets. You are so beautiful, Susan. Your heart is so strong. I love you. They are memories of bad times. However, I thought you were healed, able to deal with them."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "I am healed. If I wasn't, I would never have become your lover, much less your wife. You are my man and my friend. A good friend! Since yesterday, we have been working on making a child, our love made manifest. Royce, I trust you with my life and with my heart. I freely give myself to you. Husband, they tied me down and took it my body by force. There are some days I still thank the Lawgiver for you getting captured. The day you and your sister arrived was the day we were freed! I just don't think about what happened unless I absolutely have to."

"Did you have any magic done?"

The memory alteration magic.

"No," she said. Her voice trembled. Covering her eyes, she took several breaths, deliberately slow. "Time has helped some. And a lot of good memories since then. We were luckier. You endured much. Imagine what passed for Charlotte Ann and myself. We were there sixteen days. Arionna lets very few men hug her. The only one who can hold her for more than a few seconds is Thorband. They were enslaved for ten weeks! My experiences were horrific. Theirs must have been positively nightmarish."

"How about Charlotte Ann?"

"You're getting soft again, Royce."

"Can you blame me? There are few crimes that are worse. And you're right. It was a nightmare."

"I don't want this to get between us. Look in my eyes. See my love for you. Work your cock in me. Get hard again for me. Please?" She put her hands around his face. "I love you," she said. "I want you, right where you are. Every time you make love to me helps erase a little bit of that hateful time. Love me, Husband."

Already decided, he concentrated, reaching out with his mind. A pitcher lifted up and water poured into a basin, the water heated up, then the basin floated through the air, followed by a washcloth and towel.

Susan saw the floating articles. "What? No."

Then Royce pulled out.

"Royce. Husband. Please don't do this."

"Susan, I love you. I'm not going anywhere." The washbasin drifted down to the carpet beside him. He dipped the washcloth into the warm water. "I'm going to clean us off. We are going to at least put on our robes to ward off the underlying cold in our room. Then, I want you in my lap, my arms around you while we talk about this evil memory. I believe it has a part in how Charlotte Ann was affected, and I have to wonder if it has anything to do with her desire to endure her injuries. Now I think we need to air it between us as well." He pulled her up for a kiss, passionate yet gentle. "Trust me. I have no intention of letting this get between us as well. You are my wife. I love you. I feel your pain, Susan. Your guards are down, and it's a deep wound in your psyche still. It doesn't change my desire for you. There are many days when your mere presence makes me want to bend you over and have my way with you. Right now we deal with this part of our past. Face it head on. Together."

She let him wash her sex, emotions rioting within her heart. When he was done, he gently toweled her dry, then quickly wiped himself down. Standing, he reached down to help her up. He went to their closets, and took out heavy robes, helping her into hers before putting on his own.

"I'll be just a moment," he promised. He took the soiled towel and washclothes to the bathroom, dumping them into the laundry chute, and emptied the fouled water into the sink. Back in their bedroom, Royce went to the door leading to the hallway and summoned a guard.

"Please send someone to Cook. Tell her we are ready for our midday meal. There are three of us, and to send extra. The Lord Marshal missed her breakfast."

"My Lord!" came the answer. Susan recognized the voice as belonging to Hamil Rider, a brave man just recently promoted to the House Guard.

Royce closed the door and went back to their closet. When he came out, he wore slippers. He carried a pair of her slippers and leg warmers, leading her to the loveseat. She sat while he put the leg warmers on her, then the slippers. After putting a large pillow at one edge, he scooped her up in his arms and sat her onto his lap. Carefully, he started moving her hair from her back, bringing it around to hang in front of her left shoulder. Susan leaned forward to free her hair, so it wouldn't get pulled. But she didn't look at him.

"Are you upset with me?"

She shook her head.

"Then what is it?"

Finally she met his eyes. "I'm not exactly looking forward to this."

One arm around her, he kissed her forehead. "Even if it may help understand what happened to Charlotte Ann? If the memory magic affected her oddly, another spell, too, could have unexpected, possibly disastrous effects."

Susan sighed. "You're right, of course. All right. You begin."

"Very well. On the day I was captured, I heard them before we saw them."

"You and your sister, Dianne."

He nodded. "Both of us got a bad feeling, so I told her to go and get our things together. She teleported back to camp. She wasn't supposed to do that, of course. Our psionics, our mental powers -- we agreed not to use them to make the survival portion of our Rite of Adulthood any easier than it would be for anyone else. It was a point of honor after all. Later, I was glad she did. She packed up her things and hid them. I was in the water, naked as a jaybird when the slavers found me. My weapons and clothes on shore. Fifteen of them, half with crossbows. I could have teleported out as well, but I wanted to know who they were. Bandits? Raiders? Were they alone or part of a larger group? So I let them take me. They took my weapons and clothes, dividing my possessions amongst themselves. At camp, they took what else they wanted and scattered the rest. As we walked, listening to their speech, I learned their purpose, to capture us for slaves. I determined to learn more. That evening, they staked me out, knees under me so my ass was in the air. The first one is the hardest to endure of course. After that, the semen helps ease the way for the next penetration. I found myself hoping they came quickly. Dianne endured part of it, too. Our minds were linked, so she felt my pain until I broke contact. She had the harder task, standing by, watching and waiting. Not interfering."

Susan's lower lip trembled. Seeing her distress, Royce pulled her into his shoulder.

"It's all right, Susan. It was a long time ago."

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. One rape. Many. It all hurts. They hurt you, too, beloved. They hurt you, too." Her breath caught, then she cried into his chest.

He rocked her, one hand to cup her face, the other to rub along her back. "It's over, Baby. All over. They died for their sins. They can't hurt us anymore."

Susan's cry didn't last long. His presence and his soothing touch and calm, quiet words comforted her. As her breathing returned to normal, her breath caught again.

"What was that?" he asked.

She hiccoughed again. "Shit," she muttered. "I hate -hic- hiccups."

There was a knock at the door. Using a bit of distance viewing, he scanned outside their bedroom door. The black-haired and bronzed woman was Miri Tanner, Susan's chief Lady-in-Waiting. Susan had given her the day off, yet here she was, bringing a large cart of food to their room.

Using a bit of telekinesis, Royce opened the door from more than twenty meters away. "Come in," Royce called out. Susan made to get off his lap, but Royce pulled her close. "Stay where you are, please."

"Okay," she whispered. Susan felt raw. Mental images of him being raped triggered more memories of her own violations. Laying her face onto his chest, she was grateful for the refuge he provided, the safety of his strong arms.

Miri pushed the cart into the room, her heavy, winter dress swishing around her. Underneath her dark blue dress, Royce spied plain dark trousers and fur-lined boots. Good winter wear. Her short jacket bore the Moramorian arms, surmounted by a large cyan roundel over a gold key. The roundel indicated her rank as a member of Susan's staff, the key her role as castellan. Below it all was a diagonal on the left, and below that was a lozenge crest, half the size as the Moramorian arms, her own arms of House Tanner.

"Bring the cart near us," Royce told her. "Ah, good, there's wine. If you move this table out of the way, you can leave the cart right there, so it'll be in arm's reach. Would you be so good as to pour us both a glass? Just set them on the cart. Thank you very much. Susan, do you need Miri to do anything for you?"

Miri set the glasses down, then she squatted down, below eye level to her mistress, obvious concern in her eyes. "My Lady appears troubled. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Susan smiled. "No, thank you. We're just talking about something that happened a long time ago. I gave you the day off today. What are you doing here?"

"I was downstairs in the kitchen when Cook got the order for food. I volunteered."

"That was sweet of you," Susan said, wiping at her eye. "Now go! Enjoy your day off. Spend some time with your brother and his family. I'll see you tomorrow at the temple after lunch."

A brief nod, and Miri rose. "Very good, my Lady." Then she left, closing the door behind her.

Royce handed Susan a glass of red wine. He couldn't quite reach the lids covering the dishes. He didn't want Susan to leave his lap, so he used more telekinesis. Warm roast beef. Thick slices of cheese. Hot vegetable soup. Soft fresh bread. Creamy butter. On the dessert tray were sugar cookies and a full pumpkin pie.

Cook had provided yet another decent meal for them. She and her assistants also fed the dozens that lived within the Household - guards, butlers, maids, scribes, secretaries, and all the other many people it took to run a growing city and the household of its ruler.

"Can I interest you in something to eat?" he asked.

Susan drained half the glass. "I suppose I should. Otherwise this will make me sleep."

Concentrating, he made them both a half sandwich. Next, he filled two bowels with soup, placing the completed meal within easy reach. Susan sat down her glass and took the bowel and spoon. After blowing on the first spoonful, she said, "Salt and pepper?"

He passed her the condiments, and together they ate in silence. Both realized they were hungry. Before Susan knew it, she was scooping up the last of her soup with her bread.

"More?" he asked.

"I want to let this settle first. It was quite good, though." She finished her wine, and followed up with cold water.

Royce set their bowels onto the cart. "I should finish," he said.

"I guess that's best."

"We were on foot. It took three days to reach the main camp. All they gave me was a cup of water at midday, and some dried bread. At night, Dianne made sure I got both food and drink. I was staked out each night. My regeneration healed me, so that by morning, I was fully healed. It raised some suspicions, but they chalked it up to me being tough.

"Once I was in camp, they staked me onto one of their posts. I got my brand and the tattoo, then remained there the rest of the day. And you are right. Sometimes a pretty face can be hazardous. I am also aware you women had it much worse."

"We have a second hole to bleed from." She stared at the empty glass in her hand.

"You know much of the rest. While I remained their prisoner, Dianne scouted around, learning about them. Then she discovered Charlotte Ann and what they intended."

She stared at the glass, not really seeing it. "Normally, you spent half the day on the post, raped by anyone who wanted to do you. Then they took you down and returned you to the line to heal for a few days, and dragged off another to take your place. The men usually lined up when you were first hung up. The first one didn't have to stick their cock into another man's sperm. They made deals about who went first, and made comments while they watched."

Royce took her glass, startling her. "It's long gone. And they are dead."

Susan slowly nodded. "I think that's why torture and rape are considered worse crimes than murder. Murder is over and done. You can grieve, but the person is still gone. It's over. But the scars of torture, of rape? They stay with you forever."

Royce shook his head. "They are vile acts, true enough. Yet I'm not so sure about your argument. I can no longer imagine not having you in my life. If anything happened to you, I would miss you. Forever. I would."

She suddenly leaned into him, pulling him down for a kiss. When she released him, she asked, "So what next?"

"We find an expert. Dianne and Vernon helped me. They helped me review the memories, helped take the edge off them. They are difficult, but I can put them aside and they don't haunt me. I think it would be good to have a healer or group of healers work with Charlotte Ann. My sister, Theodonra, has become quite good at helping others. She, too, might have some good advice about Charlotte Ann as well. See what was done to her and fix it. And I think you would benefit, too."

"No!" She glared at him.

"Susan, this happened eleven years ago."

"You're right. It's past, Royce! Done! I don't think about it because it hurts. I have no desire to revisit those memories any time soon. I've made my peace with what happened. For better or worse, it is part of who I am. Those experiences shade all my current perceptions. Talking about it has left me feeling dirty. I'm going to take a hot shower, and I want you to come with me. When I'm clean, I want you to take me. I hunger for a child. Yours and mine. I want you to make love to me again. As many times and as many days until your seed takes root in my womb. I need the joy of you giving me pleasure, of me giving myself to you, to clean my heart and my spirit."