Merrie woke up under a mountain of blankets. The heat and pressure reminded her of the last time she woke up in the same situation. Frantic, she reached down to feel the end of her legs. When she only encountered smooth skin at her ankles, she let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, she wondered if someone had cropped her again but didn't give her the same intense pleasure of submitting.
With a yawn, she stretched her arms underneath the blanket. It smelled of Kirin: a mixture of perfume, incense, man, and woman. She smiled and worked her way to the edge of the bed.
“Evening, Monk. How is everyone?”
Kirin's voice stopped Merrie. She held herself still as she strained to listen through the thick blankets.
A tickle ran along her shields, a questing probe. It felt like an eye looking over her.
Merrie wasn't sure how to respond, but she knew what her master would have done. Fighting back the despair at his memory, she wrapped herself in the illusion of sleeping. It was a delicate projection, one that should not be obvious, and her head throbbed with the effort. She had never tried to do a shade spell as delicate as her illusion, but it was within her skills and the energy that thrummed inside her.
The mental pressure ran along her shields, exploring curiously. Merrie strained to maintain the guise, trusting her instinct that she needed to be still. Her body trembled with the effort until she gathered up a spell, casting behind her shields, to bring stillness to her form. She froze, her breath only a thin gasp.
A moment later, the pressure left.
“She's still sleeping,” said a man with a graveled voice.
“Good,” said Kirin, “how is everyone?”
“A lot of surprised and angry people downstairs.”
“Angry?”
“She set off a lot of the people who didn't think they were submissive. Nasty little surprise when you suddenly blow up in your trousers and you think you're the one in charge.”
“We're all subs, we're whores.”
“But, most people don't like to find out exactly how submissive they are by being forced into an orgasm triggered by a less than intelligent guild mistress. One that should have known better when playing with a unknown woman rumored to be a powerful telepath.”
Kirin chuckled. She sounded exhausted. “Point made.”
“Why did you do it?”
Merrie tensed at the question. Her body trembled as she listened.
“I had to see if the stories were true. I didn't think she could make almost the entire guild come. But, she almost got me too.”
“Good thing you didn't, but she got our people a lot further than just headquarters. I heard that Samantha came while going down on a captain.”
“She's at the docks. That's five kilometers away.”
“She was on the water, about another click further, but yes, she is was that far away.” Monk didn't sound happy.
“Fuck the gods,” sighed Kirin, “that's a lot of power.”
Merrie ran through the shade spell and let it drape over herself with cool comfort. The darkness underneath the blankets grew sharp against her skin and she felt the pulse of the Shadows reaching out for her. Taking a deep breath, she inched underneath the blankets until she could lift one edge to see Kirin and Monk.
Monk was a tall and thin man, about two meters tall. He wore a red robe and had a crimson cloth wrapped over his eyes. He stood next to one of the gold rings on the floor and carried a glass of wine. His fingers were too long, like the arms of a spider and ending with sharp points.
Kirin held a matching glass in her hand and the dark liquid swirled around as she looked up at the ceiling.
Merrie scanned the room and saw that one of the shadows underneath the table also had the sharp edge of her magic. Reaching out with her mind and careful not to disturb her shade, she called for her cloak.
The puddle of darkness flowed out from the table and slithered along the ground. It followed the ripples of tile, up to the edge of the bed, and then sunk into the blankets with Merrie. The coolness tickled her skin as it wrapped around her again, a negligee of nothing but shadows and silk.
Monk sipped at his drink before he said, “You aren't thinking about inviting her to the guild, are you?”
Kirin nodded.
“Don't.”
Fear prickled along Merrie's skin.
Kirin turned to look at him. “Why not?”
“She's damaged. There is a lot of pain in her soul and none of us know what she's capable of doing.” Merrie noticed that he had a scruff of a beard. “She's a danger not only to the guild but probably the entire city.”
Kirin held her glass with both hands. “You aren't one for exaggerating.”
“No, I'm not. There are too many things watching over that girl, dark and terrible things. She also has the attention of some very powerful forces and not all of them are human.”
“You mean Rakin?”
Merrie inhaled. Flushed, she tried to bring her hand to block her mouth, but the cloak responded first. It flowed over her mouth and covered it, cutting off all noises as the icy touch brushed against her chin. She didn't have a chance to wonder at the cloak's response as Monk responded.
“He is one of the threats.”
“I doubt he has any power anymore, not with having his title stripped from him.”
The cloak wrapped tighter around her mouth, cutting off the whimper that rose in Merrie's throat. She stared at shock at the naked woman and monk, the world spinning violently. Rakin lost his title? She couldn't comprehend the count as anything but a man of power, a specter of fear looming over her. She shook violently as she tried to quell the pounding of her heart.
“And yet he is still looking for her. The man lost his title almost two years ago and rumors are that he's been combing the countryside for the Lost Alpha. No power and only a few allies, but he keeps finding money in one scheme or another, all in his quest to hunt her down. That makes him a threat.”
Tears burned in Merrie's eyes. She couldn't breath, not with her own cloak cutting off her breath, but she was thankful for the asphyxiation. It was almost a penance for her gasping. If her master was with her, he would have punished her for breaking her silence.
“Don't call her that. Too many people are looking for the Lost Alpha. Call her Bitch, it seems… generic.”
Monk cocked his head. “Fine, guild mistress, but I don't want the Bitch to be part of the guild. Let her pay for the orgasm and send her out.”
“She has no money.”
“Give it to her for free but kick her out.”
“She can fuck.”
Monk shrugged. “So can I.”
“She's better than you.”
“Probably, but there is more than just being a warm body to pound.”
Kirin smiled. “Really? Seems to be one of the basic requirements of being a whore. Along with at least one wet hole.”
“Then I probably should quit,” grumbled Monk. “But, I'm worried that her holes will suck the life out of someone.”
Kirin chuckled and took a long sip of her drink. “What about me?”
Monk opened his mouth and snapped it shut. “You are different, Kirin. You are… are…” he waved his hand, “you are in control. You came here not because you were fleeing anything but simply for the need to be here. She's running from something, I can feel it from even here. She—”
Merrie held herself still, deepening on the shade to protect her.
“—can do a lot more. I just don't know what, but the gold in my bones says that she is more dangerous than you, me, or anyone else in the guild.”
Kirin looked toward Merrie. Her eyes slid off the blankets where Merrie was hiding underneath as she looked over the blankets. “She's one of us, there is no doubt of that.”
“Maybe.”
“She needs us, Monk. She might be here only for a week, a month, but until then, I think she needs to be here.”
“People will die.”
Kirin glanced back at him. “Is that your final word?”
Monk said nothing for a long moment and then he nodded. “Bring Sari in.”
With a nod, Kirin set down her glass. She reached out toward the golden rings and stretched out her fingers. A blue flame ignited at Kirin's fingertips and ran up her body. Streaks of gold ran along the sparking flames as power filled the room. It was wild and chaotic, bright and erratic.
Merrie pushed her own power to shore up her shade, protecting it from the light. There was a contrast of darkness and light, but then she twisted a spell to hide her from the attention of the others.
The five rings glowed brightly and a white mist formed in the furthest one. It blossomed into a column of light before bursting out of the ring. A rush of power radiated from the ring as a fat man—three meters in height and with a cock the size of a log—stepped out of the ring.
Both Kirin and Monk bowed to him.
The man who Merrie guessed was Sari, bowed back. “Greetings to the current and still living guild mistress.” His voice reverberated and drifted, as if he was speaking through water. He folded two hands together but then another pair of arms came around to press two more palms against each other.
“Good evening, Sari.”
“How may I help the guild?”
Merrie stared at Sari. She saw more than physical form. There was power in the man's outline, ethereal but clinging with the sense of peace and death. It wasn't shadows but something else, a brilliance that hurt her mental vision to look at.
“There is a woman over there,” Kirin gestured toward Merrie, “and I think she needs us.”
“I disagree,” said Monk. “I think she's a threat.”
Sari glanced over at her. His attention was like fat fingers scraping against Merrie's shields. There was power as he tried to dig into her mental outfit, to get to the mind underneath the leather.
She cringed from the sheer power and threw her power into the shade, wrapping herself in darkness even as she protected the illusion she was sleeping. It burned inside her with the afterglow of an orgasm, a rush of power coming up to protect her from the unknown force.
The ethereal creature withdrew and turned. “Let her join.”
Monk shook his head. “No, I—”
Kirin held up her hand. “Please? A bit more information?”
“Gladly, living guild mistress.” Sari bowed again. “She is sex and pleasure. She is death and darkness. She had bonded to the shadows and had it ripped from her by the light. There is pain inside her but there is also beauty.”
Both Kirin and Monk nodded as Sari spoke, but neither looked comfortable with the words.
Under the blankets, Merrie shivered at the softly spoken words.
Sari continued. “She has her own path to walk and there are many things pulling on her. When push comes to shove, she will slip away like shadows. No one will be able to stop her when her memories take over. The only thing you can do is embrace that darkness and be ready to let go when the time comes.”
“That,” muttered Monk, “is not helpful.”
Sari grinned. “Well, then you probably shouldn't ask a dead man his opinion. Death has a strange way of making you want to speak in riddles. Though, I could try possession—”
“No!” snapped Monk.
Kirin chuckled.
Monk grunted but said nothing more.
With a sigh, Kirin drained her glass. “Is she evil?”
Sari shrugged and held out all four of his hands. “Aren't we all?” And then he faded from sight.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Monk broke the silence. “I was really hoping he would say no.”
“Going to argue more? We can have a guild vote?”
“No, we'd have a war. The submissives are clamoring to get to her and others would be drawing weapons. No, guild mistress,” he sighed and bowed, “I will consent to your decision.”
“Then, she joins.”
The cloak slipped away from Merrie's mouth and she let out a soft exhalation of relief. She smiled, but Sari's words echoed in her head.
“But,” Monk held up his hand, “keep her away from the guild hall as much as possible.”
“Seventh Street Brothel?”
“I was thinking of Billy's place.”
“A streetwalker? With her feet?”
Monk nodded. “Please? She can do less damage there.”
“Well,” Kirin shrugged, “that is the meat packing district. If anyone has a thing for amputees, it will be there.”
“Thank you.”
Kirin stood up and gave Monk a hug. “Thank you for listening. Now, what about spells? We do have some requirements.”
Monk shook his head. “She's protected. She has a permanent sterility and cleansing rune, which looks like Sader's work. Both are expensive and well done.”
“And disease?”
Monk hesitated before he answered. “She's… she's…”
“Monk?”
Monk pressed his face into his hand for a moment. “Quite a few years ago, there was a cannibal mage named Borias Kivas.”
Merrie froze as Borias' name.
“He killed a landless count's daughter, consensual according to Borias and malicious according to the count. After a few attempts to get him imprisoned, the count finally succeeded and Borias was sentenced to life without freedom in Abbinkey.”
“And,” Kirin said, “he cast protection spells on her?”
“Yes and no. There are spells and they permeate her entire body, but they are wrong. It's a mixture of things that Borias could never do. I see the fragments of spells I know wrapped in his energy signature, but there are also psionic and planar components in there. She is protected but not by a spell that any sane mortal should be able to cast.”
Merrie listened intently, her heart thumping painfully in her chest.
“And the spells on her are… powerful.” There was awe in Monk's voice. “And by a man who she should have never encountered.”
“Well,” Kirin said, “that sounds terrifying. But, the question remains. The guild must protect ourselves and our marks. Are those spells enough to keep her free of disease?”
“She could do a three-day bukkaka gangbang with all the gods of plague and still be clean.”
Kirin shivered. “Thanks for that image.”
With a smile, Monk nodded. “There, I'm done being petty.”
“Go in trust, I need to talk to her.”
Merrie watched as Monk turned away and headed out the arch. She burrowed back underneath the blankets, inching through the pressing darkness. She felt Kirin crawling up on the bed and feeling around for her. As Merrie got into position near a pile of pillows, she let the shade spell slip away.
“There you are,” whispered Kirin. She pulled back the blankets.
Merrie made a show of waking up and looking around in confusion.
“Hi there, Bitch.” Kirin spoke in a singsong, tender voice. It was a stark contrast to her tone with Monk. Merrie was startled by the difference but let herself get into a role.
Merrie put on a face of looking innocent. Her mind was reaching for Kirin's and, though she couldn't get through the guild mistress' shields, she could sense the exact position needed to enforce her role. She pulled her knees up to her bare breasts and let out a sleepy bark. It was one more lie for Kirin's sake.
“Do you want to join the guild?”
Her mind still swirling through the whispered words and fears, Merrie nodded. She needed to obey Eolis for as long as she could.
“Well,” Kirin flipped over and slipped underneath the blankets and against Merrie's cool body. She flinched for a moment as the shadow cloak slipped away to expose bare flesh, then nestled closer. “Normally, initiation requires a gangbang, but since you made almost everyone come, I decided that you passed that step.”
Merrie giggled, the little woofing noise bringing a smile to her lips.
“Before you accept, a few short things. We'll give you a small room and all the food you need. We only require that you don't bring non-guild into the building. This is a place where we don't have to worry about marks or being watched. Here is where we relax and get the privacy we need. That means no lover and no family, that won't be a problem, will it?”
Merrie pictured Nir and shrugged.
“I'm sure you'll figure it out. I'll get you someone to show you the ropes and we'll have to do something about this,” Kirin reached down to flick Merrie's pubic hair, “but otherwise, a hot bath every day should be enough to get you ready.”
Merrie felt a bubbling of excitement rising up. She pushed aside her trepidation at Kirin's own doubts. Her tail squirmed underneath her body and she leaned to the side, into Kirin's thigh and half-hard cock, to let it slip free.
“We're going to put you on the street. Most guild members need to walk for two years before we let them join a brothel.” It was a lie, but Merrie let it pass. “But, you'll be based out of a small cozy little apartment above a café. It will be shelter during the winter and someone will be around in case you need,” Kirin stroked her finger along Merrie's amputated wrists, “anything.”
Merrie gave a soft bark. She smiled and enjoyed the joy. She was going to get fucked. As much as she needed, or enough to keep the despair at bay.
“There are a lot of other little details, but we'll get you started within a few days.”
Remembering Eolis' command, Merrie reached out and grabbed Kirin's hand with her two wrists. Pulling it up, she threaded one end of her hand to isolate one of Kirin's finger and held it up.
“One day?”
Merrie nodded and pointed down to her sex.
“You need to fuck every day?”
It hurt inside as she broke her own promise to her master, to no longer give herself pleasure. But, it was too hard to resist. Each orgasm was a drug to her, a rush of power and a fulfillment of something she needed to survive. She couldn't turn her back on it, not without risking falling back into the darkness.
She nodded with a tear in her eye.