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Authors: J.W. McKenna

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Chapter Twenty

 

That night High Priest Bandar hosted a triumphant
celebratory meal with the Acolyte. Lepdar insisted that Lord Rydah sit with him
“as befits my new scribe,” he had said. Rydah was honored, but he worried about
Jenya. Slaves, of course, did not eat with Acolytes and priests, yet Rydah knew
he would not be there if it weren’t for her.

Explaining that to the Acolyte would be awkward, so Rydah
had to be satisfied to hear that she would be well-fed and protected in the
kitchen with the other slaves. Still, he missed her. He’d only been with her a
short time, and already he felt incomplete without her.

Symal sat next to the Acolyte, although she did not feel
like eating. Her back still ached and she just wanted to go to bed. She agreed
to attend to please Lepdar, and to show Bandar she meant to marry his son. She
guessed that Kendam had not acted totally alone in sending her to Goren.
Perhaps Bandar had not specifically ordered it, but he had to know she wasn’t
being well treated. She wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for that.

Acolyte Raparn had joined them with his princess. It was the
first time Rydah had seen the heir to the throne close-up. Though just
twenty-six, he already was growing into the role of High Priest. He looked a
lot like his father, although his hair was dark and full while Bandar’s had
thinned.

Rydah wondered what kind of leader he’d be, and whether he’d
hire a henchman like Kendam to do his dirty work. He realized with his new
access to the inner workings of government, he might make a difference. A small
difference, to be sure, but his voice could be heard.

As he glanced over at Acolyte Lepdar, the image of the
Harpton’s burned-out farm came to mind. Would there be other Harptons under
Raparn’s leadership? For that matter, would Bandar employ another man like
Kendam to keep the population cowed?

Later, when he felt comfortable in his new role, he might
share the story of the Harptons with Lepdar. He wondered if the Acolyte would
be as shocked as he had been. He thought of Jenya, and how her encouragement
caused him to look at the positive results, rather than dwell on the worst that
could happen. Right then, he decided to be a voice of fairness and compassion
in this administration, no matter how it was received.

It was after eleven when Rydah managed to slip away from the
festivities. He was tired, yes, but he really wanted to check on Jenya. He
missed her more than he thought possible for a master to miss a slave.

* * * * *

When he entered the kitchen, she was helping the staff clean
up the dishes. The other slaves spotted him first and stopped working, waiting
for him to speak. Some dropped to one knee, heads bowed.

Jenya looked up, startled. When she caught sight of her
lord, she smiled first, then dropped to her knees. That touched Rydah. He could
tell in that first moment that she was genuinely glad to see him. He would have
preferred that she not be so subservient, yet he knew that it was expected in
public. More than anything, he wanted her to run into his arms.

He approached her and helped her back to her feet. “Jenya,”
he said, clearly aware of the many ears in the silent room. “It’s time for you
to do your duty.”

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she fought a
smile. “Yes, master,” she said, her voice low.

The other slaves remained mute, though they watched intently
as the lord escorted his naked slave from the room. Even before the door
closed, Rydah could hear the murmur of respectful voices behind them.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as they walked down the
corridor.

“I missed you too, m’lord. Was the party pleasant?”

“Yes, but I wished you could have been there too.”

“Oh, my! That would have been a scandal!” She laughed.

He laughed along with her. He could picture the expression
on the High Priest’s face if a naked slave had sat down to eat with them!

In their quarters, Lord Rydah and his breeder slipped
quietly to bed. “We have much breeding to catch up on,” he said slyly.

She looked down, trying to hide her pleasure. Breeding was a
duty, after all. Still, she could sense their relationship changing, growing.

Rydah reached out and touched her jaw. She allowed her head
to be brought up until her eyes met his. “Have I told you how pleased I am by
your help in this matter?”

“Oh, I did nothing, master. You—”

“No. From the start, I didn’t want to get involved. I wanted
to hide from my responsibilities, let my brother fend for himself. You
encouraged me to try. Now look at what we’ve accomplished in just a few short
suns: I’ve saved Symal, I’ve become reacquainted with my brother, and I’ve been
named scribe to Acolyte Lepdar.”

Jenya felt tears coming to her eyes, tears of joy at having
found this wonderful man. “I-I…” Words seemed inadequate now.

“It’s all right, my slave. Thanks to you, we’ll be moving
into a larger home on the palace grounds. We can even afford a servant to help
us.”

He must’ve caught the look in her eyes, for he said, “No,
not another breeder, silly. A servant. A Laborer.

“You are going to be my only breeder, Jenya. Now I
understand why my father never married a Noblewoman. He found the right
woman—the woman he loved—and never wanted any other. He didn’t care that she
was merely a breeder. And I don’t care that you are, either.”

He reached down and unhooked her chain. It slipped to the
floor in a clinking heap. “From now on, you will sleep with me, in my bed. You
will never be chained. You may wear clothes. I will treat you as a trusted
advisor, not a slave.”

Tears flowed freely down Jenya’s cheeks as she listened to
her lord. She remembered seeing him for the first time in the pens, during
Inspection, and wondering if he would be a good master. Now she knew.

Rydah leaned down then, his fingers still lightly on her
jaw. His lips parted and he kissed her, gently. She responded, feeling the heat
flow through her. The kiss lasted a long time. Until Jenya was breathless with
desire.

Finally, he pulled away. “Now, let’s get into
our
bed, shall we?”

She nodded dreamily and climbed in.

“Oh, one more thing.” She looked up, expectantly. “During
the evening, when we’re alone, I want to remove this.” He took a small key and
unlocked her slave collar. The skin underneath shone pink in contrast to her
tanned neck.

“You can wear the collar outside—I know you don’t feel right
without it—but here, in our chambers, I’d like to have you without any slave
adornments.”

He climbed in after her and took her into his arms. He liked
the way she fit against his body, the heat of her skin, the scent of her sex.

Jenya let herself become swept up in the moment. Her lord
had given her a tremendous gift! She was nearly a Free woman. She hugged him
closely, feeling tears of joy flood her eyes. She was a lucky slave, she knew
for certain now.

She also felt his cock harden against her leg.

Rydah did not enter her right away, as she expected.
Instead, they kissed and held each other for a long time. He stroked her
breasts, then kissed her nipples, causing a shudder to rip through her. She had
never felt like this during her training at the pens.

He moved up over her. She watched, wide-eyed, as he propped
himself up on his arms and guided his cock to her pussy. She opened for him, ready—more
than ready. She wanted this man. She wanted to have his child. A Damon child.
Perhaps more than one.

He plunged into her. She gasped as her first small orgasm
rocked her. Rydah began stroking, each time the shaft of his cock rubbed
against her clit, she caught a wave of pleasure, each one building on the last.
Her tiny bell rang, as if announcing her approaching climax.

“My Rand,” she breathed. “Oh, my Rand.”

Rydah’s face glowed as he neared his release. He felt his
testicles contract, then he exploded deep within her. Jenya shook with the
force of his release, her own orgasm causing her to swoon.

In that moment, she knew a seed had been planted within her.
She hoped it would be the first of many. She hugged him closely, shaking with
joy and lust and love.

Postlude

Houston, Texas, September 2035

 

“My god, that’s a terrific story. If you don’t write that
down, I’m…I’m…”

“What? Never going to fuck me again?” Jack’s voice was a
little hoarse after his tale.

“Well, no. In fact, if you don’t fuck me in the next ten
minutes, I’m going to walk out of here naked and find a man who will.”

“Pretty brave talk. Maybe I’d like to see that.”

“Oh you would, would you?” Joyce didn’t think she could be
more turned on, but here he was, pushing her buttons again.

“Maybe not the part about you fucking another guy—”

“That’s good to hear.”

“—but the part about you walking down the street naked
raises an exciting visual. Maybe if you had a collar with a chain attached,
it’d even be better.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your very own slave girl.”

“Well, you are naked, sitting in my lap, leaking all over my
pants. That’s a start down the road to slave girl, don’t you think?”

“I’ll admit that I’d like to be Jenya right about now. I
imagine her exploring the castle, having other slaves defer to her, then coming
back to jump Rydah’s bones with pent-up lust.”

Jack touched her breast. “Speaking of pent-up lust…”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, getting up. Her legs
shook.

“Oh no!” Jack said.

“What?”

“My legs! They fell asleep! I can’t get up! They’re all
tingly.”

Joyce knelt down and unzipped his pants. “You need a
distraction. Something to take your mind off of your legs.” His hard cock
sprung free.

“You’d make a good slave—you know to anticipate your
master’s needs.”

In response, she took the head of his cock into her
lipsticked mouth. As she licked him, she could imagine his cock thrusting into
her, tickling her clit. If she had a tiny bell, like Jenya, it would be ringing
like crazy. The thought drove her to press her mouth deeper around his cock,
letting it reach her throat.

Jack groaned and sat back. “I’ve forgotten about my legs,”
he said.

Joyce moved up and down on his shaft. She wondered if she
let him come now, whether he would have enough stamina to fuck her brains out
later? There was no way she was going to let him fall asleep on her tonight!

She pulled back, giving his cockhead one last lick.

“Hey!” Jack sat up. “Why’dja stop?”

“You’re not getting off that easy! I’m so horny I could fuck
a Warrior! I’m counting on at least two orgasms tonight!”

“Oh, really?” Jack smiled. “Pretty brave talk for a slave
girl.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Come on, we’ll see
who’s master tonight!”

They stumbled into the bedroom, Jack trying to remove his
clothes as they walked. Naked, they fell into bed. He touched her between her
legs. “My goodness! How wet you are!”

“It’s all your fault! That story made me so hot!”

“So glad I could help.”

“You can help me again, right now!”

They rolled together. He ran his finger along her sopping
wet slit and that was all it took. Joyce came immediately, all the dammed-up
emotions bursting forth, her mind filled with slave girls, brutish Warriors,
whippings and a handsome, caring Lord Rydah.

“OH MY GOD!” she shouted, startling Jack. “Oh, oh!”

He grinned. “You were really on edge, weren’t you?”

She came down slowly, basking in the orgasm. “Yeah. That
story. Being naked.” Her voice came in gasps. “Now I’m ready for the real
thing.” She pulled him on top of her.

He dipped his fingers into her pussy and brought them to his
lips. “Hmm,” he said. “Tastes sweet.”

“Fuck me, master,” she whispered. She felt the head of his
cock part her lips. She raised her hips to greet him. When he plunged in
suddenly, he set off klaxons in her head. She came again, gripping him tightly
to her.

“Oh, Jesus, Jesus!” she croaked, feeling the delicious
spasms rock her. She had never been so quick to climax before. And she
realized, Jack hadn’t come yet. She opened her legs wider as he began to move
over her. She relished the sensation. Another orgasm awaited her, she only had
to hold on.

Jack thrust hard, imaging himself a Lord, breeding a slave.
He wondered what it would be like on their world, living like that. He would
love to travel there, to live as they did, just for a year or so. It sounded
like a man’s paradise.

He pretended he was Lord Rydah, and Joyce was Jenya. She lay
under him, waiting for his seed, anticipating the moment. He realized suddenly
that he was not wearing a condom and in the next moment, he didn’t care. It was
right that they were breeding like the Avalonians. Joyce should have his child.
A wise and talented child. Maybe a future ruler.

With a bellow, Jack came hard within her. Joyce squeezed him
close, feeling his sperm flood her womb. Tears ran from her eyes as another
orgasm swept through her. She hoped she was pregnant. She wanted this man’s
child. This good man. Her man.

 

The End

About J.W. McKenna

 

J.W. McKenna is a former journalist who took up penning
erotic romance stories after years of trying to ignore an overly dramatic—and
often overheated—imagination. McKenna is married and lives in the Midwest,
where polite people would be shocked if they knew what kind of writing was
being done in their town.

 

J.W. welcomes comments from readers. You can find both website
and email addresses on J.W.’s
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

 

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Also by
J.W.
McKenna

 

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Lord of Avalon

 

ISBN 9781843603436

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Lord of Avalon Copyright © 2002 J.W. McKenna

 

Cover design by Syneca

Photos: Guryyanov Andrey Vladimirovich/Shutterstock.com and
Romancenovelcovers.com

 

Electronic book publication December 2002

 

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