Thrall of the Warrior Witch by Lance Edwards

Author:Lance Edwards [Lance Edwards]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Feeding Frenzy

So was the new routine established. And a most compelling hell descended.

Mornings still saw Thrall serving as body slave, a duty that never failed to exalt him.

Though bathing and grooming the Empress was murder on his piercing and frustrating in the extreme, it was nothing like what preceded whatever sleep he’d somehow achieved. He was still an inconceivably honored postulant charged with maintaining not only a holy temple but the godhead itself. Even the demeaning role of chambermaid was ridiculously above him and to be reverently dispensed.

Making breakfast and keeping house still followed. Deliveries arrived duly, though fewer, and potion ingredients languished unused without the restricted poppy. With scant interruptions their teaching time proved profitable, and the ladies’ literacy continued to advance at a stellar pace. Soon they would be at home on the internet. Elia in particular grew more adept with that tablet by the minute; Thrall had her blowing right through educational programs. Of course hours were regularly lost to video games, TV news (which held Jia spellbound while repelling Elia) and even trawling through Thrall’s pornography collection. Yet despite such diversions they spent their afternoons relatively responsibly, at least for that next week or so.

They fleshed out Jia’s fictitious history and did what they could to ease the only slowly diminishing distress of the little Seer upon which so much (above all else their safe return) depended. They talked of America, shared opinions and laughed or fumed over the state of things. All in all these were pleasant times spent healing up in fun with loved ones: enjoyable despite the constantly growing pressures of that intimately-enforced new impotence.

Dinners were enjoyable too – though the arrival of Shanelle to join them or take Jia out to eat before their nightly clubbing was unfailing foreboding.

Whether Shanelle taunted him about their exploits or left him alone with just Elia and his imagination, the suspense commenced. After washing up, Thrall could only watch TV, hang out with the troubled youngster, catch up on chores or try to meditate a bit – all while waiting for his insatiable owner to return and torture him in about the worse manner imaginable.

Okay, that was hyperbole. Jia hadn’t killed anyone or replaced him yet. She hadn’t fucked or even kissed another guy. Yet that first night had set a devastating template.

Only the endless strangling and self-skewering preliminary wasn’t repeated. For safety’s sake Jia decreed that her voyeur wait until she reached him on her way home before taking his spiked place bound and strung up on the cuckold’s perch. Having gleefully mastered the basics of her new smart-phone, Jia delighted in calling to say she was on her way. And once she arrived things took their agonizingly predictable path.

Like that first night Thrall savaged himself to the brink of extinction on a torture device of his own devising. Yet his most self-despising frenzies failed to either sublimate or release the sexual-emotional maelstrom that roiled him at watching his goddess servicing other men. His

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