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<title>Aimee', Chapter 8</title><P>
<h1>Aimee', Chapter 8</h1><P>
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	The bitter cold whipped against Aimee's face.  "My cloak, sir.  
Please!"<P>
	"It is of no matter, Aimee'," Teltirray hissed, impatiently.  He 
disliked waiting, especially when a stupid girl like Aimee' slowed 
him down.  Although even he had to admit that she was less stupid 
than most.  Her beauty, like flawless amber, attracted him to her, 
and he had known so many months ago that he had to possess her.  He 
had arranged with the idiot at the orphanage to "tutor" her, so long 
as all record of her existence disappeared off their books.  If she 
died, there would be no investigation.  He knew that.  He had paid 
good money for that little "feature."<P>
	He smiled.  "Feature."  The convenience of sloughing off one of 
these simple creatures was something he would easily pay for, just to 
be done with it.  Especially in these later years, now that he had 
found a route to power that once he had only dreamed of.  For that 
route, though, Aimee' was almost entirely used up.  Her body could 
not withstand the pleasures he sought for much longer, although he 
had to admit that both Bethsany and Darynn had trained her very well, 
for although his need for violence had increased a great deal, so had 
her survivability, just by her strength.  He would call on their 
services again to train the next one.<P>
	Aimee' was sobbing silently as he hauled her through the 
snowbound streets.  "Silence, girl!" he snarled at her.  That 
insufferable noise would drive him mad after too long, and he could 
not bear to hear it.  "You will have plenty of tears when we get 
home."<P>
	"Sir, please.  I cannot!"<P>
	"Oh, you certainly can, Aimee'.  Because I so will that you 
can."<P>
	"Sir!"<P>
	"I said shut up!"  He released her long enough to slap her 
across the face, then grabbed her by the hair and pushed her in front 
of him.<P>
	They reached his small, round home soon enough, and the doors 
opened to let him in.  "Good evening, sir," his chamberlain said.<P>
	"I will be in the upper chambers tonight, Ricar.  See to it that 
I am not disturbed."<P>
	"Of course, sir."  Teltirray watched, pleased, as he bowed and 
walked away, his back stiff and strong.  Men were like that, he 
thought, strong.  Even the ones who could not do magic deserved his 
respect far more than the soft, pathetic forms of the lesser sex, 
although the magic-less always deserved to be the chattel of men like 
him.<P>
	He led her up the flights of stairs and into his bedroom.  
"Remove your clothes."<P>
	"Sir..."<P>
	"Do it!" he growled.  "Or I'll flay the skin from your 
bones."<P>
	Aimee' looked away, and Teltirray saw her jaw clenched in anger.  
He smiled to himself, knowing that she was helpless to do anything.  
She would submit to his whims.  She removed her boots, then slowly 
undid her pants, picking up one leg at a time and sliding out of 
them.  She tossed the scarf aside, but as she removed her shirt she 
hesitated.  Teltirray saw a curious smile cross her face.  "You're 
dawdling!"  His anger grew as she hesitated longer, but finally she 
threw her tunic aside with a snarl.  Teltirray laughed.  "Is my pussy 
kitty angry?" he asked, soft and sarcastic.  "Get on that bed!"<P>
	She hesitated, and he swore.  Without a word, he thought his 
favorite spell in her direction, simple <em>Pain</em>  and she 
buckled over, agonized.  Her stomach would tie itself into knots 
fighting the pain he was feeding her if he didn't let up.  Finally he 
did.  "Now, get on the bed, Aimee'."<P>
	"You'll kill me anyway," she gasped, looking up at him.<P>
	He backhanded her.  Although a mage and not a warrior, he was 
still a strong man, and she staggered back, landing on the bed.  He 
reached down and snatched her right wrist,  wrapping a black band 
around it.  "I could make it more painful, you know," he growled.<P>
	"It already hurts!"<P>
	"I'll make it worse, you weak bitch!"  He turned her over, and 
although she fought, his strength made her less than a rag doll, and 
he affixed another black band to her left wrist.  "Take her," he said 
to the air, and the bands pulled her into the air.  She whimpered.  
"That's it," he smiled at her.  "That's it.  Try and remember the 
spells Darynn taught you.  Try and use them.  Save yourself as much 
as possible.  It'll just make my pleasure last longer."<P>
	Aimee' concentrated.  She tried to find the spells she knew, and 
in the back of her mind they were marshalling to her defense.  Chants 
flowed from her lips, soft and sensuous to her tongue as they healed 
her wounds and eased her pain.  "Good," Teltirray sniggered.  "That's 
it.  Make it last longer."   Her chest heaved as she breathed, 
gasping the words to spells that might make her last one more minute.  
She felt his hand caress her belly, her thighs.  More bands went onto 
her ankles, and Teltirray spread her legs apart.  His magic glued her 
to the wall over his bed like some obscene statue.  She had spent 
more than one night like that, over his head, forced to sleep that 
way for his amusement.  His hands touched her almost gently.  "Say 
goodbye, Aimee'."<P>
	She looked down at him, holding her voice for a moment.  All she 
said was, "Goodbye."<P>
	Teltirray grimaced, taking up a heavy, knotted scourge in his 
hands.  "Now," he said, "Scream for me."  The wall behind Aimee' grew 
warm, and she felt the flow of magic through it.  She didn't know 
what the magic was, but she could feel it coursing into her, as if 
seeking something within her.  It wasn't just magic... it was alive.  
It was looking for something within her, but she could almost feel 
it's frustration and she knew it didn't know how to find what it was 
looking for.<P>
	Teltirray was smiling at her, his eyes alight with madness.  
"It's a demon," he said.  "A friend.  It... supplies me with the 
knowledge I need.  The cost, of course, is you.  Not that I mind."  
His smile twisted into an ugly snarl.  "It needs your pain, Aimee', 
but eventually even that won't do.  Then, it wants your life.  But it 
doesn't know how to find it."  He looked down at the whip.  "Pain is 
also his map.  And this... this will show him the way."<P>
	He shouted as he brought the whip down against her body.  The 
blades of black leather crashed against her belly and she grunted in 
sharp pain.  The whip fell again, the tails landing hard against her 
thighs.  She squirmed, holding her tongue in, trying not to scream.  
The presence within her turned, seeking.  The whip came again, 
against her chest.  Ugly red streaks grew from her skin.<P>
	As Teltirray struck her, harder and harder, he began cursing 
her.  "I let Darynn teach you too well how to handle pain."  His 
efforts grew harder as he slammed the whip into her skin, torturing 
her, giving her all the pain and suffering he could inflict.  The 
presence within her lived on the pain, enjoying it as much as it 
seemed ready to enjoy her death.  She could not afford to give in.<P>
	The whip was too persuasive.  She bled from a dozen tortured 
slashes, the crimson fluid coursing down her body.  Darynn had told 
her, once, about how precious blood was, and Bethsany had talked 
about the magic of menstrual blood, and she herself knew what it 
meant to drop it to the soil.  The whip fell again, and finally she 
screamed.<P>
	"Yes!" Teltirray shouted as he whipped her.  "Scream, Aimee', 
scream!"  She did.  She twisted and tore at her impenetrable bonds.  
Teltirray's face was covered in sweat, his muscles bunched, the whip 
flying over his head to strike at her body again and again in long, 
angry slashes.  Aimee' cried and screamed as the tears dripped off 
her chin and the blood streamed down her body and dripped from her 
toes onto Teltirray's pillow.<P>
	As she screamed, her body fighting without her control, her mind 
came oddly to peace.  The demon was coming for her soul, now, and she 
found she could live with that.  She opened her eyes.<P>
	In the background, she heard the sounds of the whip and the 
screams of her mouth, but in her eyes she saw only a door.  A 
curious, oaken door, encarved with runes, and at the center it read, 
simply, <em>Aimee'</em>   She knew where she stood, and she knew 
there was no reason to fight.  She threw the door open and waited for 
the demon to come for her.<P>
	It came.  A green, ugly thing, shaped like a man with the head 
of a cow and the muscles of some corrupt machine, it charged for her, 
its face lewd and grinning.<P>
	But as it lunged for the door, she felt a coolness about her 
throat, and then something... someone blocked her view.  A sword of 
icy blue flickered in her vision, and a squeal of indignant pain 
echoed out in the corridors of her mind.  Then the body in her way 
was gone, running after the demon it... <em>she</em> had struck with 
the sword.  <em>She</em> was dressed in leathers of the same cold 
blue of the sword.  Aimee' looked out, wondering what she was staring 
at.  The sky was a light grey color, and before her spread a cold, 
flat, sheet of dark grey ice.  In the distance, two figures fought, 
the woman with the sword, and the green and hateful demon.<P>
	The demon sprang for the woman, and the woman blocked the 
airborne monster with an easy swipe of the sword.  The demon thudded 
across the ice.  "Girl!" <em>she</em> shouted at Aimee'.  "You must 
kill Teltirray!  I will not be able to hold this creature 
forever!"<P>
	"I don't know how!"<P>
	"Yes, you do!  Now go!"  The woman gestured, and a blue bolt 
flew at Aimee', striking her body.<P>
	She looked out into the world.  Her vision was blurred, and 
Teltirray was panting, holding the whip in one hand, but he was not 
hitting her anymore.  "Why don't you die?" he screamed at her.  "Die, 
you stupid bitch!  Die!"<P>
	He looked at her, his eyes fixed at her.  "I'll make you hurt so 
much the demon will be sure to find your soul.  To the Dark with 
whips."  He reached forward, his hand on her belly, and began 
chanting.  Aimee' recognized the spell, <em>The Pain That Will 
Kill</em>  and accepted it into her body.  Her nerves began to burn.  
Teltirray had used this spell on her before, and she had learned, if 
not to enjoy it, to at least understand it.  And as the pain reached 
into her soul, she heard the clash of claws and steel within.  She 
grinned at Teltirray.<P>
	"Die, damn you!"  Teltirray's eyes narrowed as the sweat poured 
from his balding head.  "Die!"<P>
	Aimee' refused to die.  She refused to let him win.  As she 
accepted <em>The Pain That Will Kill</em>  she recognized the 
sensation.  She knew that spell.  She had seen it in a mirror once, 
as <em>The Pleasure That Sings</em>   She had seen it a long time 
ago.  In a book.  Darynn's book.  She knew how to use <em>The 
Pleasure That Sings.</em>  And in knowing, she saw the differences 
between the two spells.  With an almost casual, contemptuous thought, 
she turned <em>Pain</em> inside out and claimed it as her own.<P>
	The look in Teltirray's face turned from hatred to shock as he 
felt his hand burn.  Flames erupted in his imagination.  Surely he 
had to be on fire!  He backed away from her, feeling <em>The Pain 
That Will Kill</em> for the first time directed at his own flesh.  He 
screamed as the pain  became instantly more than he could bear.<P>
	Aimee' had no trouble maintaining the spell.  It didn't matter 
anymore if the power she needed to kill him killed her as well.  His 
demon was busy, his power expended, his concentration ruined.  She 
had him.  She stepped away from the wall and fell to the bed, 
crumpling to her knees.  In her soul, sword and claws clashed.  And 
she knew who wielded the sword.  It could only be.  Myr.<P>
	"That necklace!" Teltirray shouted.  "Bethsany!  That bitch!  
I'll kill her when I'm finished with you!"  He leapt for, his hands 
upon her, grabbing for her throat.<P>
	Aimee' panicked, and in her instinctual reaction her knee came 
up solidly between his legs.  Pain redoubled pain in Teltirray's 
belly, and he doubled over, grabbing at his crotch, his eyes closed 
with suffering.  "And, now, <em>Master</em> Teltirray, it's over."  
Seizing a heavy candlestick holder from the bedside, she smashed it 
down on his head.  He grunted in surprise, but seemed unable to 
summon any more than that to his defense.  She struck him again.  
Over and over until his skull staved in and his heart stopped 
beating.  Then, in her own blinding pain from the suffering he had 
inflicted with the whip, she collapsed, falling off the bed and onto 
the floor.<P>
	She crawled, slowly, to her cloak, pulling it over her.  The 
magic had stopped, and with it her strength had fled.  She had only 
one thought now, one thing to sustain her.  Sobbing softly, she 
opened the door and limped down the stairs.  She escaped through the 
service door in the kitchen.<P>
	The snow bit bitterly into her feet, making her wince as she 
walked, but she never slowed down.  The cold ate at her through the 
rough, thick wool.  It didn't matter.  Her tears grew stronger, yet 
in the dead of winter even the hardiest thief dared not go out, and 
she walked across the city, block after frozen block, unmolested and 
alone.  Finally, her pain reaching blinding proportions again, she 
found the door she sought.  She collapsed in front of it, moaning 
softly in pain as she scabbed her knee on the icy stone, and pounded 
on the heavy oaken door with the flesh of her palm.<P>
	A rustle within, a questioning inquiry through the door, a 
familiar tickle of magic.  Then, the sudden rush of bolts being 
thrown and wards being broken.  The door threw open.  "Aimee'!"<P>
	Darynn reached down and picked her up, carrying her inside.  The 
door closed behind him.  "You must be frozen!"<P>
	She suddenly realized that he was holding her.  With a whimper, 
she threw her arms around him and held onto him for her life, 
realizing that she was safe, finally.  Tears broke out of her again, 
and his arms surrounded her while she cried her final cry, letting 
out the last year of pain and suffering, giving it to Darynn, and 
then to the past.  "He's dead," she gasped at one point.  "He's 
dead."<P>
	"Are you sure?"<P>
	Aimee' nodded.  "I... I crushed his skull."  A snarl crossed her 
pretty mouth as her eyes searched Darynn's face, looking for 
confirmation.  "I dropped him to the floor with <em>Pain</em> and 
then I took the candlestick and hit him again and again and again 
until his blood and his brains ran over the bedsheets!  He's dead, 
Darynn, he's dead!"  <P>
	"Certainly sounds like it."  He gave her a gentle squeeze.  
"You're bloody all over, Aimee'."
	"Hurts," she agreed softly.  "I... I need to get clean.  And my 
boots.  I forgot to take the laces out of them.  I need to get 
back..."<P>
	Darynn recognized that kind of logic as belonging to someone in 
a great deal of shock and confusion.  "No, Aimee', you don't.  You 
need to come with me."<P>
	"But... Teltirray..."<P>
	"Is dead, remember?"  He smiled gently, a smile that hid his 
fear within.  "Come.  Come with me."<P>
	"If... you're sure it's safe?"<P>
	"Very," Darynn replied.  "Come."<P>
	She finally agreed and followed him.  He led her into the 
bedroom, then through to the bath.  "Sit," he said, indicating the 
large wooden tub.  She complied.  He drew warm water for her, and did 
his best to clean the wounds that crossed her belly, breasts, and 
thighs.  The dried blood softened with the water and slowly he 
exposed the beautiful girl who lay hidden underneath all that running 
redness.  With a few gentle spells he closed the worst of her wounds, 
the ones that still wept blood and serum.<P>
	He found himself wondering what she would look like in the 
throes of passion, or even the pain of whips when the whips were 
lovingly administered.  It was the first time in decades he had 
considered a woman as a companion, and the first time ever that the 
idea actually appealed to him.  Yet, it wasn't Aimee's femininity 
that appealed to him so much as it was her raw, inner strength.  She 
had killed Teltirray, to hear her say it.  And within, he believed 
her.  He was as sure as she that Teltirray had come to earn what he 
deserved.  <P>
	And, curiously, her shape appealed to him as well.  The effect 
was indescribable.  Something new, he realized, and he did not reject 
the thought.  It did not bother him that he found someone beautiful 
just because he was unfamiliar with her kind of beauty.  "Sir?" he 
heard her ask.<P>
	Looking down, he realized that he had cupped her breast in his 
hand and was fondling her gently.  "My apologies, Aimee'.  I was... 
distracted."  Yet, he could not imagine what he would do with her.  
Actually, he knew full well.  He just could not imagine a balance to 
it, the kind of balance he found among men, where each could fulfill 
both roles, as taker and giver, with a woman, even though he knew 
full well that most people lived lives of such imbalance every day.  
"There will be an investigation, you know."
	She nodded, her eyes barely open.  "I know.  I wonder what will 
happen?"<P>
	"I do not know."  He stroked her wet and glistening skin, so red 
and dark, and found himself wishing he could touch more of her.  What 
more did he want?<P>
	Then, he remembered.  And he smiled.  He wanted her to undress 
in his presence and say that she wanted him.  To be as forward, as 
forceful, as gleefully hungry to bed him as any boy or man Darynn had 
ever had.  For that, he could wait.<P>
	He helped her out of the tub and dried her off.  She stumbled a 
little as she walked, but she finally and successfully navigated her 
way to a bedroom he showed her, and finally he pulled the blankets 
over her and she was asleep.<P>
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<hr>
<strong>Aimee'</strong>
<br>
is copyright 1991-1994 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  May be distributed 
freely by electronic media; hardcopies are limited to single 
printings for personal use.
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