Chapter 32: Chapter 30. Hands-on Experience

Yeva

“I know you were expecting Erf to stay around, but he is busy at the moment,” Yeva murmured as she pulled the rope tighter. “Moreover, I asked him to. Someone has been rather greedy lately: sharing her nights with the rest of our sadaq and worming her way into his bed almost every night. I think you need a lesson in humility.”

“Is that what this is?” Irje wiggled around only to gasp as the ropes reminded her of their presence. “You know you are welcome to join us anytime.”

The cougar was slowly swaying over the bed, hanging from a permanent hook that Erf added to the ceiling beam for this exact reason. The ropes held her tightly but didn’t bite too hard: Yeva knew what she was doing and had plenty of practice beforehand.

While Irje was quite sturdy.

“You know that I can’t.” Yeva’s fingers caressed the sun-kissed skin, sending shivers across Irje’s back. “The carnal dance between three people will always have a selfish side. Two will please one or one will please two. You can switch dancers around but you can’t have everyone try to please others all the time. That would only cause confusion and frustration, not pleasure.”

Irje’s breasts were swaying as well. They were freed from the constraints of clothing, full by the pressure of nearby ropes, and perky by her mounting arousal. Yeva gently caressed one as she kept on talking, “You and Erf know this by heart, quickly switching on a moment’s notice from taking to giving. Anaise is the Lady of the House, however. She will not yield to a murk slave like me. And I refuse to play second fiddle all the time.”

“You are using Erf’s phrases quite often nowadays, but I understand… You know I am not trying to replac—“

“I know. I know you well, Irje.” Yeva smirked as she continued to play with Irje’s bountiful assets. “You are not the type to seek better partners while throwing away previous ones. You are our greedy kitty that always wants more for herself.”

“But I give back,” Irje pouted. “Now and in the future. And when you have children I will be first to nurse them after you.”

Yeva smiled. “Thank you, Irje. You will be the first whom I would ask. Although…”

Her hand slid down and she touched herself. Yeva didn’t do it for pleasure: she was already wet from the sights in front of her and the knowledge of what was about to occur in this room. She pulled Irje’s face to herself only to slide the fingers, wet with her nanite-modified juices, into the cougar’s mouth.

“I’ve changed a lot already, Irje,” Yeva murmured, watching the yellow eyes widen in realisation. “Not only down there, but in my chest as well. The only reason you didn’t notice anything is that he likes me the way I am and it would bring unnecessary attention. But I will not have trouble feeding my own. Or others’.”

“First Erf, and now you…” Irje moaned while licking her fingers. Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “I feel like I will enjoy this punishment greatly… But where are the toys? I can’t sense them.”

“There are no toys.” Yeva deftly replaced her fingers with a gag, silencing the cougar.

She ignored the puzzled gaze as she put on a pair of leather gloves. Thin, soft and with a faint glow of tiny runes all over them. Erf’s most recent work — he even used the new lenses for magnification. “If you haven’t noticed already, the ropes avoid your sensitive spots. I don’t want you to come too quickly.”

“Mmph?”

“After all, it wouldn’t be a punishment if I gave you nothing but pleasure,” she whispered menacingly into the cougar’s trembling ear.

“MMMmmmmph!”

The ropes had runes on them as well.

 

Anaise Kiymetl Hilal

Anaise walked through the Manor with a conflicting heart. After spending so much time within the estate, the difference between it and the rest of the Manor was quite obvious to her. While both places were built in a skilful manner and properly decorated, there was an obvious difference in intent underneath. The Manor radiated status and wealth: while it was built for the comfort of its residents, it excelled at leaving the guests awed at the splendour of Kiymetl.

Their estate was all about individual efficiency. While there were some additions either requested by her or implemented for her, Erf was quick to discard outer grandeur if it interfered with internal affairs. There was no grand walkway to push apart their living quarters. There was also only a single room that could be used to meet visitors without shame.

Not to mention his constant desire to bring amenities as close as possible. What was the purpose of having water fountains close if servants would always be at hand with a pitcher of cold drink or water to wash one’s face?

Despite all that, she found herself enjoying the new accommodations. The looms and soaps turned her bed sheets into something impossible to leave in the morning. While glass on her windows kept annoying gnats away without turning the room into a cave. It was obvious her mother had made similar changes to her rooms, but Anaise only remembered them as they once were.

Well, if she were honest with herself, the estate did not need to awe its visitors. That was the task fit for Domina. Only those who were approved and vetted by her mother would be allowed to proceed further and eventually meet Erf. Eventually, it might be a task Anaise would assign to herself. Or even sooner than that.

Without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open and walked inside. “Second father.”

He cast a glance at her and returned to his task of sharpening his sword. The real one, not the stick he tried to use against her husband. His werbow was nearby and already strung.

“You wish to speak with me? I admit right now might not be the best time for this.”

“How much did my mother tell you about the current situation?” She made sure the door was tightly shut.

Ramad put the sword aside and stretched. “She was vague, and occupied. Some new activity at the Primary Manor is taking all her attention at the moment. Something that she is at the centre of, judging by the number of gifts and seekers of her audience. So I learnt most of it from Tarhunna.”

Anaise smiled. “Did my father tell you that anyone coming and going must be approved first by Domina herself?”

“Am I to ask permission from my wife to walk around my own home?” He scoffed, “Do I need to remind you that this Manor was a part of my dowry?”

“This side of the Manor, yes. The estate is located in the expanded section.”

“I wasn’t going to kill him.” He waved her away. “Despite his harebrained ‘surprise’. Who is that ‘friend’ that he mentioned, by the way?”

“Albin Shebet Chasya. Despite his usual demeanour, he is a valuable connection and Erf is the main link for that. It wouldn’t be just my mother after your hide if you did manage to kill him by accident.”

“Hoh?” Ramad finally sat up straighter.

Anaise sighed in her heart; at least that name put some caution into him.

“One of the immortal generals? Without a single failed campaign?” He smirked through his beard. “So it was not an insult but a praise? How curious. The boy has some spunk in him and is quite sturdy to boot. Not many murks could easily shrug off my blows like that. With a sharp tongue…I would be very protective of him in your place too. Companions like that are quite rare.”

Her ear twitched.

“Speaking of companions, wasn’t he bought for-“

The lines curved in her mind and her second father slammed into the wall behind him. Pieces of plaster and marble rained on the floor as he fruitlessly struggled to claw his way out of the hole.

“He. Is. Mine!” Anaise gritted her teeth as her magic pushed him deeper into the new alcove. She could feel the Flow curving around her and pressing on his Spark. Drowning any attempts to counterattack. “I did not invest so much of my time and worry just for you to walk in and try to claim him because you are curious! Especially when the Gods are above us! I speak as the Lady of the House: do not intervene in my affairs!”

“Did he set you up for this?” Ramad growled. “A murk ordering the Domina’s daughter to do what he is supposed to do himself?”

“Why would I ask him how I should deal with my own family?” She scoffed. “Though he’s taken heed to your words, this isn’t the Forest, second father. He can’t simply attack someone of high status just because you want him to. Especially if one of his attacks would land.”

“Do you think Amalric and I aren’t warriors? One does not avenge the scars gained in an honest fight!”

“You are a warrior. My elder aunt isn’t. Just imagine her saying something like ‘a slave that lifted his hand against one of his masters!’. Mother would struggle to keep his head attached… Or someone else eager to put a wedge into our family,” She glanced upward, “and at the most inopportune time. So, once again, do not interfere!”

He pushed again, but Anaise could easily hold him in place with a continuous spell. The fruit of her training to reign that impact spell that could easily crush walls and everything in-between. Something, once impossible, was now a weaker version of her repertoire.

“Fine, you win.” He grinned. “I see you have quite the formidable show of strength now. But how long can you hold that for? Will you be able to hold someone who isn’t your second father?”

She smirked. “I saw you readying your weapons as I walked in.”

His ear twitched.

“I wonder why.” Anaise mused. “Perhaps a seasoned warrior like yourself felt an early onset of depletion, and chose to get ready beforehand.”

“Perhaps.” He licked his lips. “What are you trying to imply? That you can keep this spell longer than I can fight it?”

“Dear second father.” She sweetly smiled. “You have noticed that I’ve grown stronger. Yet you still did not realise how strong I’ve become. I can hold you here for the better part of the day.”

Grinning at his gobsmacked face, Anaise mused to herself. “Or more…Despite my numerous attempts, I’ve not once reached my limit.”

After all, she wasn’t pushing the Flow. She wasn’t fighting it either. Anaise simply let it curve in the way that she wanted.

And have the Flow flow.

 

XXX

I was idly tapping my fingers on the desk when I heard the knock on the door.

“Did you wish to see me?” Isra peeked in.

“Yes. Please come on in.” I took my eyes from the tablet on my table and gestured at the couch across from me.

She walked in cautiously. Her hooves, wrapped in leather, barely made any noise on the wooden floor of my office. Or meeting room, as everyone else was calling it. I still set it to my standards: there was a desk, a chair for myself, and couches for my would-be visitors. A few shelves nearby to store scrolls and codices.

The choice for couches was obvious: murks and wer wouldn’t be that picky if I were to call them here, while wermages might see it as a slight against them. After all, I didn’t have a tail to get in the way of sitting.

Isra Haleh chose to sit upright on the couch, further highlighting her nervousness.

Unsurprising, from our currently rocky relationship. Callously speaking, It did put me at an advantage in the upcoming conversation even if it was not something I desired.

But that didn’t mean I would discard it.

“I’ve talked with Keivan and Yeva. They have enough material to start building the furnaces.” I spoke while looking into the window. The divine castle had been floating silently over the city for the last couple of days. It didn’t react to the immediate cries of surprise, awe, and adulation. Nor did it react when citizens of Emanai returned to their daily tasks. There was additional fervour in preparation for the Divine Ritual, but that didn’t stop people from needing their daily bread, a place to sleep, and clothes on their backs.

It just hung there, looming. Casting a shadow on the city and my own heart.

“That’s great news!” Isra grinned. “What do you want me to do?”

I sighed. “I want to discuss our future relationship.”

“Oh…” And just like that Isra deflated once again. “Is this about the refuse piles?”

“Yes,” I didn’t beat around the bush. “Do you know what your sister thinks we are doing? Making orichalcum and fulad.”

Isra gasped. “We are?! Oh, Gods…”

“We aren’t. And that is why your sister will fail. Not because she isn’t a great smith but because she is seeking something that simply isn’t there. And that is also why I was quick to send you on this project without demanding secrecy: I need copper and steel, not some magical metals. Nor did I say anything about the magnet — smiths are familiar with lodestones and hiding its existence would be a useless task. Its creation was a different matter but that is why I made it myself.”

“So…you are not angry about me talking to Esmat?” Isra cautiously probed.

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“About telling my secrets, no. As there were no secrets to tell. You did tell her about my intentions, however, and that is causing our current issues. While Esmat Fidda isn’t likely to benefit from this — she could easily interfere with our projects. Current or future ones.”

She sat there silently, looking at the floor.

“This isn’t about her either. Other wermages could do the same. As a smith, you should know how hard it is to craft something yourself compared to ruining the work of another.”

“I would never!”

“You? Most likely not,” I interrupted her. “But others could. Can you vouch for all smiths and important wermages in Samat? Emanai? Tana? You can’t even vouch for your own elder sister.” I spoke matter-of-factly.

The last part hit her especially hard.

“So…what now?” The hooves shuffled on the wood.

“Now you will have to make a choice. Whether you want to be a great smith—“

“Of course!”

I raised my hand, asking for silence. “Whether you want to be a great smith, or seen as one.”

Isra tilted her head. “What do you mean? Aren’t all great smiths seen as such?”

“Eventually, but not immediately. By talking to your sister in that manner, you weren’t showcasing your skill. Nothing there was of your own making, except maybe for the carefully selected lumps of metal. You were bragging about my hidden knowledge. I have no need for someone like that.”

She tried to speak but I raised my hand again. “If we are to work together in the future, there will be a time when I will need to tell you real secrets. Things that would likely make you famous overnight… And killed for your knowledge.”

Noticing the askance look, I nodded. “I speak as the Alchemist of Kiymetl who already survived two Collectors for my insights in glass alchemistry. Are you ready and willing to face similar odds?”

Isra shook her head vehemently. Tiny bells tinkled on her horns.

“Right. I am also neither ready nor willing to repeat that experience. That is why I need a smith that can keep her mouth shut no matter the circumstances. One who is willing to stay silent and look like an apprentice digging through refuse rather than trade the secrecy to remove the imaginary stain on their honour. Because the outcome might not be even close to the minor inconvenience we are facing right now.”

Sparing a final glance at the window, I stood up and walked around the table. “Before, I said that I was looking for discipline, but recent events forced me to reconsider. I want loyalty. I know that I might be asking for a lot as a murk from a wermage, but this is not a demand. It is an offer.”

I walked closer to Isra and gently pulled her horn upward, lifting her face to meet my eyes. “It is an offer from someone that your elder sister thinks is capable of making magical metal. And she is willing to act so rashly to hinder. An offer from someone whose Domina is willing to seek not just a smith, but you.

“I will not ask you to betray anyone nor divulge any secrets of your House. You said that you don’t wish to engage in politics? Don’t. Let me or our Domina bear this burden, and focus on what you said you desire to do most. Create. Let your future creations speak for you rather than telling others about them.”

My fingers let go of her horn but she didn’t look away anymore. “This is my offer to you. You can take some time to think about it, but there will not be another one. If you find yourself unable or unwilling — I will honour that. I will find you a task and give you the work that you desire. But I will not share my secrets with you.”

“What about apprentices? Or other helpers. Am I to keep these secrets into my pyre?”

I shook my head. “No. You will teach others when the time comes. Whether it would be your children, close family, or vetted members of Kiymetl and Enoch. Perhaps even some of the estate’s servants who have shown sufficient aptitude. But that would come with time. And I would expect similar loyalty from them as well. While I would like to spread my knowledge, I will not do it at the cost of my safety.”

“Family…” Isra murmured and glanced at her hands. “Will my words be enough?”

“No.” I reached back to the table and pulled the wooden tablet free from the paperwork. And gave it to Isra.

“This one is a bit different from the one you swore to Aikerim. Feel it for yourself: there are no curses nor maladies woven inside if you were to break your word. That is why it is so small.” That, and the new availability of magnifying lenses. “All it does is send a signal. Either telling me to hide and defend myself… Or to start organising a rescue mission for you. Or burial for both of us.”

Her fingers gripped the tablet. “It is funny how the most simple and quiet things feel as if they are the most malicious.”

“Because they are honest. There is no blustering or petty threats, a mere statement of facts.”

“Tell me…Erf. Will your knowledge truly make me great?”

“Well—“

Isra grabbed my hand and shook her head vehemently. “Don’t tell me your truths! All they speak is of uncertainty and possibility. Give me an image so that I could dream it in the night! The reason to believe that what I am about to do will not be the beginning of my downfall. Will it?”

I looked into her pleading eyes. “Yes.”

This was probably one of the reasons why Isra tended to avoid social aspects and all other things that thrived on uncertainty. She yearned for the discrete results and rewards for her work: a future that she could get just by working hard, not a complex maze of possibilities with one jackpot and a myriad of dead-ends.

Isra just needed a solid rock in the turbulent sea of social interactions. And just a tiny push.

“Yes, it will. And more. My knowledge would not just make you a renowned smith: your swords will be known by your name across the continents. If you would desire that. Then I will teach you about steel weapons that will make all these swords obsolete and nothing more than shiny toys to hang on the wall like a fancy farshat carpet. I will teach you how to build steel houses that are taller than Samat Pillars. Or steel ships that can sail faster, and longer than any of the vessels you’ve ever seen. And then you will look back at yourself right now and realise how small were your most grand aspirations.”

The tablet lit up in her hands as she did whatever the wermages did to power the runes. By my observation of Irje — something naughty no doubt. “I will bequeath my line under the Erf of Kiymetl. Let his fortunes be ours, and ours — his while we share the toils of life, together. I, Isra Enoch Haleh: first of my line, swear to guard his treasures and secrets with my life.”

The glow faded and Isra closed the tablet shut: the lid protecting the intricate runework inside. “There…It’s done.”

I reached out and took her hands, still holding the tablet, into mine. “By the way, Yeva and I appreciate the gauntlets you made. She will probably reward you herself, but in my case: do you know what sets iron and steel apart?”

“They are made of minuscule elements, the composition of which dictates the material they are made of…”

I nodded in agreement.

“…since they are both borne from earth and forged in fire, they are likely made out of these two. Just with different ratios.”

I smiled. “What if I told you that there is an element called ‘iron’? And another one… that we shall call ‘coal’? Whereas steel is just the mixture of two…”

 

Yeva

Irje was a soppy mess.

The gag made her drool a bit, but that wasn’t the main source of wetness that soaked their blankets. Yet, Yeva didn’t stop. Or, to be more precise, she couldn’t stop. Not anymore.

Her gloved fingers effortlessly traced a familiar path across the cougar’s spread folds, drawing out usual twitches and shivers yet denying that final step to the peak of pleasure. Irje had stopped fighting some time ago: now she simply hung in ropes waiting for whatever was bound to happen.

Yeva smiled and carefully pulled her hands out of the glowing gloves, amused at the repetitive movements of now empty vessels. There was a certain charm to watching this type of magic: as if a gloved spirit had decided to molest their cougar.

Taking careful steps, she tiptoed to a nondescript box and pulled out another glove. Gauntlet to be precise. While she paid attention to her charge, her actions remained unnoticed. Irje was fully in the fugue of pleasure.

The gauntlet was a rather well-made attempt by Isra. Yeva wasn’t sure how many tries it took to get to this quality but this was the first one the smith had presented to them. Surprisingly quickly too. Isra probably burned a lot of midnight oil to remain in their good graces.

Despite her previous misgivings, Yeva had to concede that the smith did know how to work hard.

But she would give thanks to Isra later.

The runed plates of the gauntlet started to shine as soon as she walked closer to the cougar. A couple more steps and Yeva had to fight the twitching thing so that it wouldn't fly out and join its less armoured brethren in the task of edging Irje.

Yeva’s fingers ran across the sweaty back, sending a new wave of shivers, and pulled at the strings that held the gag in place.

“Yevah!” Irje was quick to shout, still working her stiff jaw. “Enough of thish. Let me cum! Pleash!”

“Are you enjoying my touch?” Yeva drawled while gently caressing Irje’s face.

“Fuk you. No, fuk meh!”

She laughed. “But I am here. Not there.”

Irje tried to twist around. “Who? Anaiss? Erf!?”

“No one is here, but us. Yet my hands are here…”

Irje whined and Yeva decided to give her a break. Pulling out the jerking gauntlet she waved it in front of the cougar’s face. “Did you remember that I had similar gloves at the beginning? Thin velvety ones without any armour? Where do you think they are? If this one moves so hard, just imagine what the other two can do. And there is only one mage in this room.”

She leaned in and whispered into the twitching ear. “You see Irje. The truth is — you have been edging yourself for quite some time now. All you had to do was simply will your magic to finish the task.”

Irje roared. The gauntlet flew away from Yeva’s hands only to dig its fingers into Irje’s breast. The two leather gloves went on assault as well. Instead of gentle but frustrating touches, one delved deep into the cougar’s core while the other vigorously massaged her clit.

A single hiccup. A moment of silence, and Irje collapsed into violent spasms of pleasure. Drenching once again the already wet blankets.

“Good girl.” Yeva cooed as she cuddled the twitching kitten in her hands. Gently massaging the accumulated stress away and letting her cool off from the explosive climax. “You’ve done such a good job. I am proud of you.”

It took a few minutes of cuddles until the final aftershocks of pleasure washed away and Irje could breathe calmly.

“Yeva?”

“Hmm?”

“Did Erf set you up for this?”

“Well, he thought that using them during our fun times might have a similar effect to dildos. But I thought denying you the ability to move made it so much faster.”

“So you are saying this was all your fault?”

“Did you not enjoy the finish? Or the new skills that you’ve gained alongside it?”

The amber eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should do the same with you. Who knows, maybe you will learn magic after hanging here for a day or two as I lick you clean of your nectar?”

Yeva laughed and pushed the still tied Irje away, letting her sway in the air. “It is a good thing that the ropes did hold. I think I need to call for Erf to tame his kitten once again.”

“Yeva! Get back here!” roared the feisty pendulum.

She laughed as if trying to run away only to trip and fall on the floor. Looking back, she noticed her leg grasped by one of the glowing gloves. The others were quickly approaching her as well.

“Oh, shoot.”

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