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Subject: {ASSM} The Overlords' Gambit 26/36 (MF Mf Ff ff Mdom Fdom toys bd rom magic oral rough spank)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter26.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: The Overlords' Gambit
Universe: Narlass Chronicles
Summary: Amanda is again pulled into events that grow beyond what she
ever imagined as the Overlords plot against the Emperor, for the
changes in Oceanus will bring changes for herself as well.

Part: 26 of 36
Keywords: MF, Mf, Ff, ff, Mdom, Fdom, toys, bd, rom, magic, oral,
rough, spank

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2007

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/A_Strange_Geek/www/novels/Gambit/Chapter26.html



---------------

"Lady Janna K'garon, representative of Lord Duric K'garon of the Keyas
Province!"

Silence fell upon the chamber so suddenly upon this proclamation that
Janna hesitated an awkward moment after she rose from her chair. Surely
they were not intent upon riveting their attention to her as they had
Tarras?

No one after Tarras had been given such an honor. Oh, they had paid
more attention to the Lords that immediately followed him, largely out
of guilt, she guessed. But once the next day came, most had gone back
to their old ways.

Janna cleared her throat awkwardly, which sounded embarrassingly loud
in the quiet chamber. Even her footsteps sounded deafening as she
walked around the end of the table and towards the center of the room,
her heart thumping.

She lifted her gaze and set it cool and formal as her eyes flicked
around the room. As she caught their faces, the ways they were seated,
and the looks in their eyes, it was clear to her now why she had their
undivided attention. It was because she was female and attractive.

"Use whatever you can to your advantage to get them to listen, Janna,"
Tarras had told her that morning when she had desperately asked him for
help with her speech. "That is all I can really tell you."

Janna stood in the center of the chamber. For a moment, she had no idea
what to say. But as she let Tarras' words sink in, it came to her.

Her lips curled into a small smile. The coolness in her eyes slowly
gave way to a warm sultriness. She forced herself to relax her stance
and let her arms hang more loosely at her sides. She shifted her weight
and let her hips tilt, one foot sliding forward slightly.

"I am quite sure that all this rapt attention is for the words you so
eagerly anticipate coming from my mouth," Janna's voice rang out,
carrying the familiar touch of suggestiveness to it. "Yes, that's
certainly it. My words."

A soft but brief wave of laughter washed over the assembled Lords.
Janna turned her head just enough to give Tarras a quick glance. She
found him smiling. That alone was a great relief to her.

/Okay, now if I can just play this up and not go too far either
direction,/ she thought. /With luck, I won't sound like either a total
ass or a total harlot./

She strolled casually towards a group of Lords at one of the curving
tables. Their faces brightened when they saw her approach. She kept her
step lively, picking up her feet a bit more to let the bottom of her
dress swish around her legs more and draw attention to them. She caught
the gaze of at least one Lord flicking that way immediately.

"I guess you get tired of looking at dour old men for day in and day
out and want something a little nicer to look at," she said, giving the
one that ogled her legs a wink. "So I won't disappoint."

More amused laughter around the tables, more appreciative smiles.

She turned away from that table and started back towards the center.
Her gaze alighted on another group directly ahead of her. "Though I am
sure you will find it in your hearts to forgive me when I keep to some
rules of decorum."

"Well, damn!" one Lord behind her suddenly exclaimed, which set off a
brief spate of raucous laughter among the others.

Janna was elated by her success so far, though in the back of her mind
was the worry that she would fail to say anything of substance to them.
She was thinking of each line only after she had said the previous one.

All speeches to the Caucus were unprepared. That tradition was
sacrosanct. Tarras had not prepared his, even if it had sounded like he
might have. Or if he had done any preparation, it had been in the
privacy of his quarters beforehand.

There was a moment of panic when she drew a blank as the laughter died
down. /No, just free associate, like you always do,/ she chided
herself. /Your little speeches to rivals at court are never prepared./

But this was different. She was speaking to a large group of Nobles
above her normal rank and station.

Yet as her eyes fell on the group in front of her, inspiration struck.

She quickened her pace, and to the surprise of several of the Lords in
her field of view, she was right at their table, laying her hands upon
it and leaning towards them. She gave them a sultry smile. "Tell me ...
are you missing your slaves?"

For a moment, the three Lords before her exchanged confused glances.

"Missing their companionship? Their warmth next to you on the chilly
nights? The way they ... well ... I suppose I should keep to rules of
decorum with my words as well."

There was a very brief wave of laughter behind her. One of the three
Lords in front of her finally dared to speak when it was obvious she
was not asking a rhetorical question. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do
miss them. Unavoidable, given the Emperor's attitude towards slaves."

Janna felt her heart race again, but this time it was with excitement.
It was just like at court. For the moment, there were no other Lords in
the room, just these three, and now just the one that responded to her.
She could relate better now. She could do what her forte was, which was
make a person say something that would take her in the direction she
wished to go.

Janna smiled at him and drew away from the table, backing away without
turning from him. "Ah, yes, the Emperor. Mmm, he has a great many
attitudes, doesn't he?"

She stopped, paused a beat, then whirled around and approached another
group of Lords. "For instance ... what do you imagine he would think of
me?"

The Lord directly ahead of her blinked, glanced off to the side, then
pointed at himself and mouthed "me?" Janna smiled, licked her lips, and
nodded her head once. The Lord's eyes widened a bit and he leaned back
in his seat. "Um, well ... I guess I'm not quite sure what you mean by
that question."'

Janna put her hands on the edge of the table again and leaned forward,
this time far enough to let her breasts weigh against the dress holding
them in place. She kicked one foot back, making her body shake briefly
and her mounds jiggle. "If he were here now, do you think he would
approve of the way I'm ... /presenting/ myself?"

The Noble Lord gave a smirk with a hint of lasciviousness to it. "Most
certainly not."

"And you?"

"Um ... me ... what?"

"Do you approve?"

Several other Lords laughed. It helped embolden him and he answered,
"Oh, most assuredly, Lady Janna," which elicited more laughter.

Janna chuckled herself and turned away from the table. She let her gaze
slide over the other Lords, not letting herself focus on all of them.
She kept up the illusion that they were not there save for the ones she
let herself see immediately before her eyes. Meanwhile, her mind raced
as she approached the center of the chamber again.

/Do I go further? Do I make another example? Or is that enough? Or .../

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted, and it made her pause in her
stride. She was too stunned at first to believe it, and almost did not
recognize it, as long as she had gone without someone having to contact
her that way. But it was unmistakable. Someone was summoning her to a
Farview audience. And there was only one person that would be doing
that.

/Dammit, Duric, not now!/ Janna cried in her head.

She knew she could just ignore it for the moment. Yet the fact that he
was contacting her now likely meant he had something for her to do, and
it sent her stomach heaving.

Janna exercised sheer force of will and pushed her doubts and worries
away, allowing her to recover her stride. /No, I need one more,/ she
thought.

She passed the center and headed towards another table, the one where
she and Tarras were sitting. For a moment she contemplated going to
him, and even started in his direction. At the last moment, she veered
off and stopped before someone a few seats down from him.

Tarras gave her a secretive little smile.

No sooner than Janna had leaned over the table when the Lord grinned
like a schoolboy and said, "Oh, yes, I approve as well, Lady Janna."

Another wave of laughter.

"I am so glad you do," Janna said in a husky voice. "And ... aren't you
glad that you can?"

"Hmm? I'm not sure I follow."

"You're free to appreciate me ... for the excellent representative that
I am for Lord Duric."

The Noble Lord chuckled. "Oh, yes, that. Indeed."

Janna bent over so that her elbows rested on the table, thrusting her
rear out and up behind her, and making her breasts dangle under her.
"And in other circles, even outside the Imperium, this would be frowned
upon. The peasantry can be a prudish lot sometimes I hear."

"Yes, they can be at that."

"And as for you being able to do it with impunity?"

He chuckled again. "Rank has privilege my dear. Always has. Always
will."

Janna smiled lustily. "Mmm, indeed ..."

She winked at him and drew herself up. She turned slowly and headed to
the center of the chamber.

Tarras leaned forward, his eyes on her every move. But unlike everyone
else, he also had his ears on every word. He was guessing where this
was going, and he hoped it would take the other Lords by surprise.

Janna reached the center of the room. She looked the epitome of poise
and calm. She turned to the first group she had talked to. "Your
slaves, my Lord?" she said loudly. "You can't have them anymore.
Sorry."

This was met by confused and astonished stares.

She turned to the next one with whom she had spoken. "And from now on,
we will have proper conduct at meetings such as this. Perhaps ... even
/write down/ our speeches ahead of time."

This was met with an ominous grumbling noise.

She turned to the last. "And privilege? Rank? No. No more of those."

The Noble Lord frowned.

She turned away from him and addressed the room for the first time. Now
she could, as she knew every word of what she was going to say. "You
can't do these things anymore because the Emperor doesn't want you to!"
Janna declared.

The room fell into an uneasy silence.

"So many words have been spoken during this Caucus about the Emperor's
growing power, and how he is exerting it against our neighbor. We have
focused so much on what he is doing with this power that we are missing
the concept of the power itself! He claims he has gathered power to
himself to fight an enemy of the realm. What happens when that enemy is
defeated? Has he given any sign that he will relinquish that power? Or
will he simply turn it elsewhere? Inward instead of outward!"

She swept her arms towards the door. "You have seen what his vision is!
He dislikes slaves, so everyone will as well! He keeps rigid rules of
decorum and protocol, so everyone will as well! He wants no one else to
have any power to oppose him ..."

She paused a beat.

"... so /no one will./"

She let her eyes alight on the faces of the Lords, even as a second
summons to Farview came to her. She ignored it more easily this time.
She was almost there. She had everyone's attention as raptly as Tarras
did, and it had nothing to do with her body.

She lowered her arms. "You wish to keep Oceanus intact. You wish the
system we have had in place for two centuries to continue. Then stop
him here. Do not compromise. Do not let him attain even a single scrap
of power more." She smiled humorlessly. "Unless you want this to be the
last time that you can get to see a pretty lady flaunt herself at a
gathering such as this."

With no further fanfare, she turned and headed back towards her seat,
leaving silence in her wake.

Just as she got to the space between two tables, she caught movement
out of the corner of her eye. She looked over just in time to see Lord
Uras rise from his seat and begin applauding enthusiastically.

Janna was so stunned by this she froze in place. Uras was quickly
joined by a half dozen more. In moments, it became as thunderous as
when Tarras had concluded his speech.

She was almost too overwhelmed with emotion to move. Yet she managed to
retain her composure, straighten up, and proceed to her seat.

Tarras saw that she was struggling to control herself and placed a hand
on her shoulder. She flinched at first, but quickly gave him a look of
appreciation. She took a deep breath and let it go. Feeling his touch
helped steady her somehow.

As Uras finally stopped applauding and called for order, Tarras leaned
over to Janna. "Extremely well done. I was very impressed."

This made Janna blush, at least until the third summons came.

"I-I have to get away, Tarras," she said anxiously.

"Something the matter?" asked Tarras with concern.

Janna lowered her voice, as by this time Uras had gained control of the
chamber. "I'm being Farviewed."

"Duric?"

She sighed and nodded.

"You fear something has gone wrong with his little project?"

"Yes ... well, no, not what you think. Look, I can't explain it to you,
not yet. I just need to talk to him as soon as possible."

Tarras nodded and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Uras will be
concluding the session very soon. It would be bad form to leave until
then, especially after just speaking."

"I know." Janna leaned back in her seat with a frown. Her stomach was
going to remain twisted in a knot until she had heard what Duric had to
say. And perhaps even more after that, depending on what he asked of
her.



Lanno listened patiently to Vanlo's detailed explanation of what each
part of the apparatus did, but he comprehended less than half of what
was told to him. He understood the individual components, as every
Healer had to learn how to make his own potions and salves. But the way
Vanlo had connected some of them together seemed to defy all logic.

Lanno simply nodded each time and gave no indication that he had
anything less than full understanding. Yet when Vanlo was done, the
older Healer sighed and shook his head. "You really just don't
understand how it all works, do you?"

"Did I say that?" declared Lanno, frowning a bit. "I never once stopped
you, did I?"

"I can see it in your face, Lanno."

The frown deepened. "You're not saying I'm ignorant, are you?"

"It would not be your fault. It is apparent that they have vastly
scaled back the curriculum at the Healer Guild since I was apprenticed
there."

Lanno gave Vanlo an incredulous look. "You mean they taught you this
stuff back then?"

"Well, not this specific setup or technique," Vanlo replied, gesturing
to the apparatus. "But they did teach basic genetics. I took additional
instruction as an elective for the rest. And I did some learning on my
own. Have they at least taught you /anything/ of genetics?"

"Of course they did. I know all about inheritance, dominant and
recessive attributes, all of that."

"That barely scratches the surface. However, there is at least one
comfort in all this."

"And what's that?"

Vanlo paused to adjust something that had been knocked slightly out of
place while he was showing Lanno the various valves and controls on the
apparatus. "That I did not remain at the Guild Hall to bear witness to
the demise of its former excellence." He straightened up and looked
Lanno squarely in the eye. "You have much to learn."

Lanno wanted to be angry with Vanlo for yet again accusing him of not
being experienced enough. Yet the more he listened to Vanlo, the more
he was coming to realize that there was some truth to the old man's
words. Now he envied Vanlo for having had access to a better education
than he had.

He still felt he had what it took to be a master. Never once did he
waver in that. But he finally understood that he needed to know more if
he wanted to get anywhere at this Manor, especially in the shadow of
someone like Vanlo.

"Anyway ... now that I know about this thing, you want me to help you
move it into the back room of the office?" Lanno asked.

Vanlo shook his head. "Everything is already calibrated. If I move it,
I will need another day or two to set it right again. And besides, we
have one more person we need to keep this a secret from."

Lanno nodded slowly. "Jollis. Though I don't ever recall him being in
the Healer Office."

"True. But we cannot assume this state of affairs will continue."

"He could still sneak into your quarters while you are away, you know."

"This is true. But he will have to know that there was something
suspicious to be found. Whereas in the back room of the office, there
is a chance he will see it upon a casual visit. This is the safer of
the two options."

Lanno considered this and shrugged. "Guess I can't argue with that. So
long as you don't mind me stealing into your quarters during the day
sometimes to see this thing in action."

"That is fine, so long as you do not touch it. Though I daresay that
watching the operation of the apparatus will be much like watching
paint dry. It is not terribly exciting."

Lanno nodded at this, but that had not been what he had intended
anyway. He wanted to track the progress of it day-by-day rather than
moment-to-moment. "Okay, so what's our next move? You have all the
ingredients for this thing, right?"

"In terms of the reagents, chemicals, and magic, yes. What I need is
what I was about to procure today."

"A hair sample."

"Any genetic sample would do, but hair would be the easiest to locate."

"All right, so do we try now? Looked like he was heading out of his
quarters when we last saw him."

Vanlo considered for a moment and then shook his head. "We must assume
the worst, that he is a spy of some sort. If that is the case, it is
possible he will already suspect that we have attempted something, and
will take steps to either thwart an attempt to enter his quarters when
he is not present, or provide a means of sounding an alarm to him."

Lanno raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that pretty far-fetched?"

"No more so than the supposition that he was behind the stilling of my
Portal sense."

Vanlo could finally say the words without a remaining trace of
bitterness or sadness. It had simply become a fact of life for him. He
needed that in order to feel that he could move on. Now it was
officially in the past and thus behind him. He need only look forward
now.

"So what now? We're pretty much stuck if his quarters are off-limits.
How do we obtain some of his hair now?"

Vanlo thought for a long moment on this. Slowly his lips curled into a
knowing smile.

Lanno raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"We obtain it the same way that I once obtained a blood sample from an
Imperial agent," Vanlo declared. "Though the utmost trickery and
deceit."



The illumination had dimmed until only the feeble glow of deep velvet
twilight remained. All there was left for Janna to see was silhouetted
movement against the ceiling of her room. Even this had progressed to
such a frenzy that there was no coherence to what she was seeing. What
had been supple limbs and graceful body moving in sensuous rhythm above
her had become a dark blur of motion.

Janna didn't care. She didn't need to see. She didn't need to hear. She
just needed to /feel/.

She barely heard her own gasps and moans. She could not sense the
strain of her thigh muscles holding her legs apart so wide for so long.
She was too focused on the rocking of her body against the bed, and the
thrust of thick manhood in her tunnel.

Her hands pressed into Tarras' shoulders, fingers curling hard into
muscle as her pleasure rose slowly. Too slowly. She didn't need a
romantic, tender fling, she needed a rutting, something strong enough
to drown out the other emotions that had welled up inside her all
afternoon after the Caucus.

And after Duric.

Janna moaned her desperation and pulled on Tarras with as much strength
as she had. He nearly fell onto her, but in the process, drove himself
hard and deep into her. Janna uttered a strident gasp. Before Tarras
could think to "correct" his mistake, Janna threw her arms around him
tightly and sought to slam her hips against him. She could not move
very far with Tarras' bulk atop her, but he quickly got the message.

He changed his position over her slightly and moved his hips like a
piston, pounding hard against her. Janna threw her head back and moaned
loudly, finally able to feel it as she wanted. She closed her eyes, her
breath a wild pant as her pleasure soared. Her pussy ached from his
girth slamming into her, but she didn't care. The intensity of all the
other sensations drowned it out.

She did it. In that moment as she rose to climax, everything else
ceased to be. Her world was this. She held onto it as long as she
could, crying out her desperation as she came.

Tarras was not there yet, but his breaths came heavy and labored. Janna
felt him trembling. No, she didn't want him trembling. She wanted him
to be a rock. She wanted to put her anchor here.

The moment passed, as Janna suddenly drew in her breath sharply. She
had relaxed her hips a bit in the wake of her orgasm, and now suddenly
his cock was striking just the right place to send a shudder of
anticipation through her. She rosed precipitously, gasping in another
breath of air, only to let it go as a startled cry. Her back arched,
and for a moment her throat completely locked.

Hot fluid abruptly squirted from her slit as she came hard. Her hips
bucked even as her voice remained locked in silence from the intensity
of her second orgasm. Finally she let go with a strident moan, her body
quivering madly as the pleasure overcame her senses.

In the flood of sensation, she had missed it. It was only now she heard
him groan and felt his manhood throbbing. It was already fading, as she
had missed the start of it. It was all right. She had what she needed:
a moment of bliss to push back the fear and the worry.

It was going to be short-lived. She already felt her orgasm fading.
There was the lingering ache in her sex, but it would soon fade as
well. She needed more but there was no more to be given at the moment.

Tarras had already sensed something was amiss. But instead of trying to
ask her what was wrong, he simply slipped his arms around her and
gently rolled them over until she was lying atop him. Janna whimpered
and clung to him for a few moments, feeling his arms tighten around her
in return.

Tarras had been a bit nonplussed by her sudden lust when they had come
back from dinner. She had been rather quiet the whole time, hardly
responding to his attempts at conversation, and barely touching her
food. She would not say what was wrong, and he did not want to press
too hard.

But he could guess.

He had seen the mounting desire in her dark eyes, even behind the pain.
He had let himself respond to it, more for selfish reasons than
altruistic, even if it turned out to be the right thing to do. Or at
least he hoped it had been.

Janna's breathing finally slowed and her body grew calm and still. Her
muscles relaxed, save for the arm that curled around his chest. She was
using him as her anchor. But she knew that this would not work unless
she told him.

Tarras finally could not stand the silence. "Janna ..."

"He wants me to spy for him."

Tarras fell quiet again.

"The Imperial patrols are erratic. He needs to know their schedule. He
..."

"Perhaps you should not be speaking of this to me, Janna."

Janna lifted her head and stared at him in alarm. "You don't want to
hear about this?"

A pause. "I didn't say that."

"But ... you don't really think Z'haas has an eavesdropper on the room?
That's insane! That ..."

Tarras lifted a hand and cradled it against Janna's cheek. Janna's eyes
went wide. The next moment, she relented and let out a despairing sigh.
Had she just given away all of Duric's plans in one ill-timed statement
born from emotion rather than logic?

"That's not it," said Tarras.

Janna stared at him.

Tarras caressed Janna's cheek tenderly even as his gaze remained
serious. "Realize this, Janna: if you continue, if you tell me one more
word of Duric's plans, you are compelling me to help you."

Janna looked at him in confusion now.

"I won't sit by the sidelines. There's too much at stake. I predict
that the Caucus will take five days, maybe six, to finish debate on
this matter. That is unprecedented. There is not much time."

Slowly, the unspoken implication of Tarras' words came to her. "You
don't think it will work, do you? You don't think we'll sway the
Emperor at all."

"Not one iota."

Hot indignation rose up in Janna. She pulled away from him violently
and sat up in bed. He was only a vague form in the darkness. "Lights,
dammit!"

The spell on the bedside lamp responded, and the lamp flared into
brilliance.

Janna squinted and blinked. "Then all this has been for nothing? Your
eloquent words ... me practically strutting like a slave putting on a
show before them ..."

Tarras swiftly sat up in bed and took her hand. She yanked it away. He
took it again. "No. I did not say that. I said it would not sway the
Emperor, not that it was for naught. It served to give the Lords unity
of purpose. They will stand behind Duric when his army comes."

Janna did not know how to respond at first. Her anger had abruptly
deflated, but this would only let the fear in again. "What Duric is
asking me to do ..." she began in a hollow voice.

"Is gods-damned dangerous," Tarras concluded. "But if he says he needs
this, he is likely right."

Janna took a deep breath. "You're not going to tell me I can't do it."

"Not unless you are telling yourself that."

"I can't afford to do that."

"But you're scared."

"/Yes, I'm scared!/" Janna shouted. "Sorry I didn't live up to your
image of me, Tarras. I guess you were expecting someone a little more
hardened than that."

"Janna, stop. I never had that expectation of you. I'd be more worried
if you /weren't/ scared."

"But I don't want you thinking you have to do this for me."

"I would not even imagine myself doing that. I said I want to help, not
take over for you."

"You said you were /compelled/ to help," Janna insisted, though her
voice was a little softer now. "That's different from wanting to help."

Tarras smiled. "You are so quite good at that."

This softened Janna's expression even more. "Thank you."

"I can be both compelled to do something and want to do it at the same
time. Think of it as going out to dinner. I am compelled to eat food as
my body needs it to survive, yet I can want to have an elegant meal."

"There is hardly anything elegant about this, Tarras."

"Yes, the analogy does fall flat there I am afraid. Nevertheless, the
point is that I have as much a stake in this as you do."

Janna was about to retort with a demand to prove that, only to realize
she had just committed the same sin she had accused the other Lords of
doing: forgetting about the loss of his son to the Emperor.

"You're right," Janna said softly. She looked him in the eye. "And to
be honest, I don't have the faintest clue how to go about doing what he
wants me to do. Do you?"

Tarras looked thoughtful for a long moment. "I might."

Janna was not sure how to respond to that. It was more than she had
expected, less than she had wanted. Part of her did wish him to take
the responsibility from her, and she wanted to kick herself for that.

Tarras leaned closer to her. Her eyes rose to his again.

"So are we partners in this, Janna?" Tarras asked, scooping up her
hand.

"Yes," she said, her voice husky.

"Good. After all, I'd hate for us not to be partners in crime after
being partners in sex."

Janna laughed. She looked into his eyes again, her own growing sultry.
She slid closer to him. "I was using you, you know."

"Oh?"

Janna nodded and draped an arm around his shoulders. She withdrew her
other hand from his and pressed it against his chest, spreading her
fingers. "To help me forget the fear for a bit."

"I wondered."

Janna's hand slid downward. "You're not upset?"

Tarras smiled. It made Janna's heart thump. "Not really. It was
something you needed. It was an honor to provide it."

Janna found this amusing for some reason and chuckled.

"I say something funny?" Tarras said, but his own voice was husky as
well, and there was a slyness in his smile now.

"You know ... I barely saw anything ..."

"You were otherwise occupied."

"Yes ... but I think I can pay a little more attention right now." Her
fingers curled gently around his semi-soft manhood. "Can you do the
same?"

Tarras did not answer, not in speech. He remained silent as his manhood
grew long and hard again in Janna's lightly caressing fingers.

"Man of few words? I like that," Janna said as she massaged him.

Tarras slipped an arm around her and drew her closer, his other hand
cupping her breast. It was firm, yet soft and supple, just like her.

Janna moaned deeply and leaned into his touch.

"You didn't think that when I gave my speech," he teased.

Janna squeezed his cock and gave it a few firm strokes until she heard
a soft groan from him. "You didn't have this out at the time."

Tarras gathered her in his arms and lay them back on the bed. He rolled
atop her gently. Her legs spread under him. "A good thing. For you
would not have heard a word I said."

His fingers stroked her hardening nipple. Janna shuddered and moaned.

Their voices became soft and gentle, no more than whispers of affection
towards each other. Their pleasure built slowly this time, ironically
pushing aside her fear more effectively than the frenzied lust earlier
had.

Outside, evening had passed into night by the time their cries of
shared pleasure rose above the soft moans and sighs.



The light from the heatless torches along the path pushed the night
back a bit, but did little to dispel the trepidation that Amanda felt
as she headed towards the library once more. Overhead, the stars glowed
with a cool light that gave no comfort. Despite the fact that the place
was empty, and that her safety was virtually guaranteed simply by the
fact that she was a Noble Lord's slave and an Overlord's property, she
felt a twinge of fear each time she passed a bush or a tree near the
side of the path.

Amanda did not let much of her fear show. She felt she was better than
that. Yet she had to keep reminding herself that Rallas would not hurt
her. Harming a slave or exacting brutal punishment was taboo. The
paddle was as painful as punishment would get.

At least this is how it was for Nobility and Overlords. She did not
know if it extended to others that they favored with a slave's
services.

Amanda turned at a fork in the path and headed to the back entrance of
the building as Rallas had instructed her earlier. The path had few
lights along it here, but there was one bright oil lantern above the
doorway itself. The glass had been shaped to focus the light downward
onto the steps. It made the lamp look disconcertingly like an eye, as
if it were intended to make her feel scrutinized even before she
entered Rallas' presence.

Amanda hesitated at the door as she grew wary of what she might see
when she opened it. She could not get the image out of her head that he
had some cruel torture planned for her despite the limitations by which
he had to abide.

Another test for her? Everyone seemed intent on doing that to her. She
didn't see them solely as tests of her loyalty or skill. She saw them
as tests of her own endurance. Not so much them pushing her as Amanda
pushing herself. Despite her fear, she was still determined she could
take whatever was dished out to her.

Amanda gathered up her resolve and opened the door.

Instead of a torture chamber, she found herself in a quiet study. The
furnishings were done in rich earth-tones. A fire crackled low in a
great fireplace that spanned one corner. Her eyes shifted to the other
corner, and she nearly flinched when she saw the lean form of Rallas
sitting in a plush chair.

His body was clad in a thin, satiny robe, wrapped about him loosely.
His elbows lay on the hand rests of the chair, his fingers steepled
before him. He regarded Amanda with an even, cool gaze. He said not a
word to her, but simply stared.

Amanda shivered under his gaze, swallowed, and composed herself.
Thoughts of Lanno crept into her head and almost made her shudder
again. She pushed it out of her head as she closed the door behind her.
She dropped her gaze and bowed her head slightly as she took up the
submissive posture before him.

Rallas continued to say nothing for a few more moments. His eyes roamed
down to Amanda's pussy between her open thighs, then lingered around
her round breasts. They traced a line around her hair, from where it
lay draped over one shoulder, over her head, and down where it hung
free on the other side.

He let his breath go as a slow sigh. There was a hint of lust to it.

"I should be glad you showed up on time," he said coldly, even as his
eyes grew dark with desire. "I should be further glad that you
remembered your place and position when you came in. I was not entirely
sure you would. I would have had to punish you most soundly if you had
not."

There was a tinge of lasciviousness to his voice, as if he would have
relished the opportunity to discipline Amanda.

Amanda did not respond. She remained still, awaiting a clear order from
him. Her breathing was regular but deep. Her heart thumped, but not as
hard as it had before she entered. She was exercising every bit of
emotional control she had.

Rallas stood and took a slow walk around Amanda. His eyes took in her
body with a growing predatory look. His manhood expanded and rose under
his robe. "Perhaps it will be a comfort for you to know that you will
not have to worry much about disobeying me this evening," he said, his
voice growing husky. "You need only follow a few simple commands for
me, and that is it."

He stopped when he was in front of her again.

"Or were you afraid I was going to demand the impossible from you?"

"No, Master, I was not," she said in a calm and soft voice.

Rallas considered this for a moment, his lips tightening. "Liar."

Amanda trembled. She kept her eyes downcast, seeing only his feet where
they appeared under the hem of his robe.

"But I cannot prove that, so I cannot punish you for that. Stand up."

Amanda rose to her feet and lifted her gaze to his. There was no way
she could feel happy in his presence. At least with Duric she could
manage it, as he was not unkind to her. But it was beyond her abilities
and her discipline with Rallas. She did the best she could, which was
to regard him with a casual, if neutral expression.

Rallas suddenly grasped her chin and forced her head to tilt back a
bit. Amanda resisted the urge to pull away.

Rallas' gaze narrowed. "Not even in your eyes. I can't even see it
there. Very good. You can put on a most excellent show." He let his
hand drop from her face and thrust it towards a door between the chair
and fireplace. "Through there and the door to the left."

Amanda's mind raced. Could he have punished her for something he saw in
her eyes? She was not even sure if she had been lying when she had
answered his question. She had been afraid of being hurt; being asked
to do the impossible was not quite the same thing.

Amanda stepped into a small but cozy bedroom. Now she drew a look of
confusion. This was the bedroom, but he had told her to go one room
further?

She yelped when she suddenly felt a hand crack soundly across her ass
cheeks.

"Why do you dawdle?" Rallas demanded. "Where did I tell you to go?"

Amanda had not even realized that she had come to a stop. She quickly
spurred herself into motion again and headed into the next room, her
rear stinging from the blow. Once she was inside, she didn't know what
to think.

She was standing in what looked like a small workshop. Shelves lined
three walls of the room. Planks and blocks of wood lay in piles. Huge
coils of rope lay beside many of them. Several tables abutted some of
the walls. Some had half-finished projects on them, things of carved
wood and rope. She recognized some of them; they looked like many of
the things she had seen in the library dome.

Dominating the center of the room was a large workbench. Atop it lay a
slab of wood that just covered the table, sanded and polished to a
reflective glow on the top side.

Rallas closed the door behind them with a thunk that made Amanda
flinch. Rallas suddenly stepped up behind her and placed his hands
heavily on her shoulders. She held her breath.

"Nervous, are you?"

There was an undertone to his voice that made Amanda want to shiver.
She suppressed it. "Yes, Master, a little."

"At least you tell the truth for me this time. I would have been upset
if you had not." One hand slipped down and lightly slapped an ass
cheek, then gripped it tightly and fondled it roughly. "Very upset."

Amanda panted lightly. She was caught between her fear of him and the
slight arousing effect the blows to her rear were having on her. "I-I
will not lie to you, Master," she said, her voice a bit breathless.

"Interesting that you feel the need to say such a thing. Most slaves
would not. They would take it as a given. Then again, you are not
supposed to be like most slaves."

Amanda was grateful that he did not make any further note of her
speaking out of turn. She remained still, forcing herself to take
steadier breaths.

"When I first took over as head of this library, it was in the most
dismal shape. The previous Lord before Duric had little use for
literacy, apparently, so I got nothing of the royal budget. I had
almost an empty shell of a building. Every piece of wood in this
building I have touched. Crafted. Carved. Joined. Wood and rope, that's
all I could use, as I was restoring this place out of my own pocket,
and it was all I could afford."

Amanda looked around. She was genuinely impressed by this
accomplishment.

"Climb up on this," Rallas ordered, gesturing to the workbench. "Sit in
the center, facing away from me. Leave your arms limp and do not move."

Amanda's heart started to race again. "Yes, Master," she intoned as he
let go of her shoulders. He remained silent as she complied with his
order. She hated not seeing him, not knowing what he was doing. She
found the workbench too wide to dangle her legs over the side, so she
folded them under her instead. It was not comfortable, but the wood had
been sanded smooth and there were no splinters.

Rallas' cock grew absolutely rigid under his robe. He stepped off to
the side and retrieved a coil of rope. "I had no idea what I was doing
at the time," he said as he stepped up to her. "And I had no one to
teach me." He lifted her hair up and draped it over her front, then
pushed a hand into the back of her head. She bowed her head down, most
of her hair now dangling between her knees.

Amanda's breathing became ragged as she guessed what he was going to
do. He grasped her wrists and forced them behind her back. Inside of
crossing them as she had expected, he brought them further up her back,
until her arms were bent as if she were folding them, but behind her
instead of in front of her.

"So I taught myself," continued Rallas. He began to thread rope in and
around Amanda's arms and wrists. They drew tighter and tighter with
each loop. Amanda's heart pounded harder along with it as her arms grew
more immobilized.

"And I taught myself very well in time." He started threading some rope
around her torso, criss-crossing it between her breasts. As they drew
tighter against her body, her breasts were squeezed between them.

"And as a result, I became a master at it. I know the most intricate
knots ..." He looped the rope again around her arms, drawing them more
firmly against her back. " ... ones that only grow more tight the more
you tug on them ... " He yanked on a rope that linked her left wrist to
her right upper arm, pulling them together. " ... ones that stay tied
until cut free ..." He did the same on the other side.

Amanda bit her lip. The ropes were so tight that her arms tingled. All
she could move were her fingers, and even this was difficult, as
stretched as muscles and tendons were. Her breasts were pushed apart
and squeezed into plump bullet shapes.

"Which is the way this will remain," Rallas said as he drew his hands
back. His voice was rather husky now, his actions exciting him to the
point of lust. "Now ... for the next part ..."

Rallas grabbed her shoulders and tipped her over. She quickly stretched
out her legs as he put her on her side. He rolled her until she was
lying face down on the wood.

Amanda's breasts felt crushed against her chest. It did not hurt, but
it was rather uncomfortable, just like the ropes around her. Her heart
seemed to reverberate against the wood as it thudded in her chest.

Was this torture? Amanda was not sure. She was not being hurt per se.
It was obvious to her from his voice that he was getting excited by
this.

Rallas spread her legs apart. He then grasped a foot and bent her leg
back at the knee until her heel touched her thigh. "What I truly
excelled at, Amanda ..." Rallas looped rope around Amanda's ankle. "...
was lashing pieces of wood together with only rope. No glues, no guide
holes in the wood. And I learned to make them /stay/ lashed together."

He ran the rope many times in and around ankle and thigh, binding them
together. He moved down to a spot along her calf closer to her knee and
began the process again. "No slipping, no retying, no loosening. It all
hung together perfectly."

Amanda felt her right leg become completely immobilized. She could not
flex her knee at all. She started panting again as she realized how
helpless she was becoming.

Soon her left leg joined it. Rallas worked on it in silence, save for
his labored breathing, both from the effort and his desire. He stepped
back from his work for a moment, observing it and brushing a hand
against his pulsing and aching cock.

Rallas placed a hand on one of Amanda's ass cheeks and squeezed,
uttering a slow, lustful sigh. He played his fingers along the insides
of Amanda's thighs. Despite her attempts not to, Amanda squirmed at his
touch.

"No, there is no way to break free from this, Amanda. None at all." He
leaned over and whispered hotly into Amanda's ear as his hand stroked
her thigh. "And do you know what the most important thing I learned
was, Amanda? It was strength. Rope strength. How much was needed to
support a given weight. It was I who built all those rope ladders that
the apprentices use to fetch the books from the topmost shelves. Never
had a failure. Never had one break or fray."

Amanda was breathing heavily as Rallas stepped away from her. In her
nervousness, she briefly thought she was suffocating, that the weight
of her body or the press of her breasts against her was preventing her
lungs from expanding properly. It didn't help that much of her hair was
haphazardly splayed around her head.

After Rallas returned to her side, she felt him threading the ends of
more pieces of rope around her. They were looped about the ropes that
already bound her along each of her legs, her arms, her torso.

Rallas then collected her hair, drawing it into a single batch that he
held tightly in his fist. Her head was tugged back several times as he
did something to it. She closed her eyes and hoped it was not what she
thought.

Rallas brought all the ropes together and drew them taut. Amanda felt
tugs on her legs, arms, waist, and the last place she had hoped to feel
it, her hair.

He took some time to secure the ropes into one large knot, leaving the
other ends free. He reached up and drew the ropes through a large metal
eyelet that was embedded into a thick beam that crossed ceiling. He
pulled everything taut again and secured the ends together. He finally
tied them to a hook in the floor.

Amanda's breathing was ragged. Her head had been pulled back slightly
by the rope tangled in her hair. She was trembling fearfully. She was
scared that something was going to go wrong and her neck would snap.

Rallas kicked at something near the base of the workbench. At once, the
legs folded and it collapsed to the floor with a loud crash.

Amanda let go a strangled cry as all the ropes went completely taut all
at once. Her head snapped back and sparked a surge of panic. When she
realized she was still alive, she discovered she was not that much
better off. She could not move a muscle save for her fingers and toes.
The ropes pulled her knees far apart and were too tight to allow her to
draw her legs closed. The skin grew dusky near where the ropes
constricted about her. He extremities tingled.

She started to slowly revolve in the air. Rallas let her complete one
revolution, admiring her with darkly lustful eyes, before stepping
forward and stopping her by grasping one knee.

"When Lord Duric insisted I let you see to my pleasure on your own,"
Rallas began. "He told me that I would not be disappointed." He slid
his hand along the inside of her thigh. Amanda shivered and squirmed,
but she barely moved save for twitches of muscle under the unyielding
ropes. "He was right, at least where physical pleasure was concerned."

Rallas draped his hand over her helpless sex. Amanda whimpered and
squirmed some more, as if she suddenly did not want him touching her.
She ceased when his finger began to play with her womanhood.

"And had I been with a Narlassi lass, it would have been what I
wanted."

Amanda moaned, a shudder passing through her, though it was barely
noticeable from as tightly as she was bound. Her pussy responded to her
conditioning and grew damp for him.

"But you are not a Narlassi girl, Amanda. You are a slave."

He drew his finger up and found her gathering moisture. He dipped his
finger into it and slid it back over her nub. Amanda panted lightly,
her hands clenching and unclenching. Part of her was revolted by this,
part of her needed it. All of her, however, had no choice in the
matter.

"And a slave is not a person. A slave is a thing. A toy to be played
with. And I do not want my toys acting and thinking on their own."

His finger speared her tunnel. She whimpered. Yes, this was exactly how
she had been made to feel. An unmoving sex doll. That's all he wanted
from her. That's all he thought she was good for.

/So he wanted to torture me after all,/ Amanda thought, her eyes
shimmering with unshed tears even as he thrusted his fingers in and out
of her, slowly building a pleasure that was in flesh only and not in
mind.

Rallas brought her close to a crescendo, then abruptly withdrew his
hand just short of it. He positioned himself behind her and shed his
robe.

"I cannot stop you from thinking, obviously," he said with some
disdain. "But I can stop you from acting on your own."

He grasped her legs and plunged his manhood into her, and began rocking
her back and forth, wet noises coming from her folds. Amanda uttered a
half-desirous, half-despairing moan.

"No more from you. Not a sound. Toys do not make noise on their own."

As Rallas used her in this manner for well into the night, Amanda
discovered that toys do not necessarily feel either. At least not
enjoyment.
<1st attachment end>


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