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“Keeper,” I muttered. “Well, if you won’t answer me that, can you at least give me a little insight as to how you’ll break her of her strong will?”
“Simple,” he finally smiled, a long, face-splitting grin, revealing an entire mouthful of teeth, “make her life so miserable and lonely here that the thought of serving as a maid or a stable hand, or whatever the fuck her job was, will sound like a damn vacation. She won't step out of line again when I’m done with her.”
“And what if she’s stubborn?”
“Oh, even the stubborn break at some point,” he whispered.
She’s just a Nymph. She’s a pawn in someone else's game. Red is nobody and nothing.If I could, I would have slapped myself right then to knock the thoughts out of my dumb thick skull, but even whipping her hadn’t brought me the same sort of joy I thought it might.
“We can leave this mess to those two and my keepers can watch over them if you would like to return to your room and clean up. We will be having dinner soon.”
“And what of her once the mess is clean? Where will she go? Sorry for the questions, but her misery is partially in my charge as well, and I’d hate to disappoint King Ottack.” I watched Red as every movement she made caused her face to scrunch up. Then my gaze flipped back toward King Windre, who looked annoyed that I even bothered to ask.
“She’ll go down to the dungeons, of course.”
“I’m sure I can expect to see where she is being kept.”
“Certainly,” King Windre purred, pulling himself away from the wall and walking out the door. In the hallway he snapped his fingers, beckoning one of the Fae guards forward. He was a slender man with large black reptilian wings. He looked Fae, he smelled like Fae. I didn’t want to gawk at the rarity of it, but I hadn’t seen a Fae with wings in my entire lifetime.
“Jerydin, can you please show our guest to his room?” King Windre glared down the tip of his long nose as he passed me off to the Fae guard.
The man, Jerydin, nodded. It wasn’t until I looked at him, and not just his wings, that I noticed how large his eyes actually were. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it was a trait that came with the wings. Something to counteract the attraction the wings created.
Jerydin didn’t speak but walked quickly. I averted my gaze to the floor, the walls, or the ceiling to keep him from feeling the heat of my attention on his wings. Damn, I wish I could fly. The more I focused on the ground, the more I noticed the red splatters that dotted the floors here or there. So much for making them clean up after themselves, someone had sprayed all sorts of fluid through these halls.
I’d seen many things in my time working under Queen Atarah, but it didn’t give me the same feeling that I had while I was here. While I still loathed being bound to her, I had found joy in my work. There was something in the air here, something that felt like a lie. Something King Windre said, or maybe it was this Jerydin character that was giving me a reaction. My gut, that wasn’t often mistaken, knew something here was fake. I just needed to figure out what. I’m sure the news would please King Ottack, or even better, Princess Maggie.
The Fae stopped outside a door without a word. I stopped walking to look at him, then at the doorway. “Oh, is this supposed to be me?”
He nodded.
“Thank you.” I brushed past him and into the room. If I had thought that my arrangements as a guard were nice, then this was fucking spectacular. This room was fit for a king. Wait…was I in the wrong room? I turned but the door had been shut behind me. Guess it’s mine.
A huge four-post bed with sinful red sheets sat as the centerpiece. Large orange and brown sitting pillows were scattered around the floor everywhere. Even the lighting was dim, making it look like this room would be great for an orgy.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. What the hell was I thinking? A good place for an orgy? What had gotten into me? It had been years since I had a good orgy, but I hardly thought this was the place or time for it.
A double door sat propped open to the right of the bed, leading off into the bathroom. I hummed, trying to pull my head out of the gutter. I didn’t know a bedroom could turn someone on, but here the fuck I was, getting hard.
Walking into the bathroom, I expected something like the showers or large tubs that I'd seen already in this realm. This bathroom was different. It wasn’t a tub; it was a whole swimming pool. Steam rolled off the clear water. With a chuckle, I pulled my shirt off over my head and shimmied out of my pants.
The coursing stiffness between my legs was not easing, if anything, this ridiculous bathroom was going to make it worse. I mean, I was alone. Breathing a sigh of contentment at finally being without the restrictive clothing, I tiptoed into the pool. The water lapped against my dirty skin. I hadn’t been very fit to be in the presence of a king upon my arrival.
I reclined against the steps, my sinner hand drifting to my cock. My gaze shifted from side to side, nervous, for whatever reason, that I was not alone. My eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks as I began stroking from base to tip. Images already littered my thoughts. A memory of what it felt like to rock my hips into a woman’s wet sex. I groaned as mild pleasure built. The speed of my hand quickened.
Oh, I missed the warmth of a woman, but for now, this would have to do. The friction of my hand was uncomfortable, so I cracked an eye and reached for a jar of soap that sat near the edge. It poured out readily into my hand and created an easy foam to rub against my cock. I let out a trembling breath and cozied back into my lounging position.
Picture after picture came to mind. Memories of the orgy the room so easily reminded me of. And other images, too. The swish of black hair, a snarl that somehow still hinted at humor. An uninvited kiss that felt too good to be true.
Pleasure overtook me in wave after wave as my hand pumped up and down, my hips moving of their own accord with the motion. Cum poured out of me, thick and creamy across my fingertips and dripping over my lower stomach. At the peak of the orgasm was the memory of Red’s body pressed against mine in her first escape attempt. Her sly, knowing smile as I gripped her to me and threatened her.
I coughed, looking down at myself. Something was wrong with me. Maybe I just needed something to take off the edge. I’m sure King Windre’s court had prostitutes or something of that nature. That’s all I needed. Some good cunt and I’d be well on my way to sanity again.
A few towels lay folded, waiting to dry me. One would have to be good enough to be my cum rag. Oh, the joy the Nymphs would have when they cleaned my room later. Though I tried not to think too hard on that, praying it wouldn’t be Red who found the soon-to-be crunchy towel. Of all things, that might be the first here to actually embarrass me. I’m sure she would have something to say about it. She always had something to say.
Tossing the towel toward the corner of the room, I dunked my head under the surface and began scrubbing my body. If only baths could scrub away all of our sins. What a shame my soul had to reside in this meaty, lustful, shell of a man.
Once I was satisfied that the dirt and grime I had accumulated since leaving the Obtune Court was thoroughly washed away, I climbed from the pool. Water dripped off of me, creating a small puddle at my feet as I ran a towel over my skin. The material soaked up most of the moisture, leaving me only mildly damp as I drifted from the bathroom. The bag that I had brought had been carried in from our wagon at some point. It rested near the bed. Another uniform waited for me inside. Quietly, my mind drifted over all the dirty thoughts that still tormented my mind while I dressed. I gave the room one last look, sighing, knowing that there would not be any orgies here while I stayed.
