It was enough to drive her to distraction, but Maureen kept her spirits high. Eventually she would see Bodok again, and their reunion would be glorious. She just had to be patient and persevere.
Mistress Tormik had other plans.
It was readily apparent that Mistress Tormik was actively punishing her with this change in her duties, that much was plain to see. But as Maureen took note of the errands she was being sent on, it became clear that the wrathful woman was also taking great care to ensure her disobedient servant would have almost no likelihood of bumping into her blue-skinned acquaintance.
Not only was Maureen being sent to the far ends of the city for many of her chores, when she did accompany the lady of the house on an outing an additional servant was always with them, keeping a watchful eye on the human newcomer.
It seemed Maureen had upset her more than she initially realized. This in and of itself was not a massive concern, but now that her ink was truly binding to her body, Maureen’s Infala was healing at an alarmingly fast rate. Far quicker than any race Mistress Tormik had seen before. And that seemed to anger her even more.
“Come here. Let me see it,” she demanded one night, her attention fixed on her servant despite the extremely attentive male beneath her, doing his best to please his mistress.
Maureen obliged, putting down her large decanter of wine and stepping closer. Mistress Tormik didn’t slow her pace, but reached out without missing a beat, pulling Maureen’s top open. She hissed her displeasure at what she saw.
The rune in Maureen’s skin was slowly churning, growing larger and more complex. “Look at this,” she said to her husband, drawing his gaze away from the pair of oiled, writhing women servicing him with utterly unrealistic bravado.
“An interesting Infala,” he said, only now truly noticing his wife’s servant for the first time. “Come closer,” he commanded, his eyes locked firmly on the bare skin between her breasts where the rune lay.
Maureen’s eyes darted to the women hard at work on Vice Quaestor Tormik’s erect member, meeting theirs in a split-second glance of understanding and compassion. She walked to him, stopping just out of reach.
“Closer,” he said.
She obliged, shuddering as his sweaty hands touched her chest, tracing the rune with his stubby fingers. “Interesting,” he murmured. “It is taking form so quickly.”
“I know,” Mistress Tormik snapped. “That’s the problem. This one is trouble.”
Vice Quaestor Tormik’s hands slid apart, sliding the material free from Maureen’s breasts. He cupped them, giving a firm squeeze as if he were shopping for produce at the market. It was all she could do not to flinch away.
“Oh, Master, you are so big!” one of the oiled women blurted, squeezing his member harder, increasing the speed of her strokes as her partner began sucking on the head of his cock. Her eyes flashed up to meet Maureen’s for an instant then fixed back on the work at hand.
Master Tormik’s attention drifted from Maureen’s breasts back to the women so passionately at work on his unit, their increased enthusiasm delighting him and bringing him closer to climax.
Maureen stepped back and covered herself, quickly returning to her place against the wall, picking up the decanter and standing quietly at attention.
I owe you one. A BIG one, she thought as she watched the women doing their best to take the master of the house over the edge, knowing full well he would grow bored immediately and wander off for food and drink once his balls had been drained.
By the look of the man’s face that would be any moment now.
As for Mistress Tormik, she was still riding the poor servant hard, the violence of her hips threatening to snap his junk clean off, if only figuratively. Faster and harder she moved, grinding and riding with animalistic intent. As she approached her own climax, her displeased gaze locked onto Maureen just as she orgasmed with a loud groan of anger and pleasure.
It was utterly horrifying and Maureen wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here.
Fortunately, other servants were tasked with lube and cleanup detail today, so with the sexytime activities complete, she was able to leave the chamber immediately, heading to rinse the lingering feeling of disgust from the master’s touch from her skin.
After her very utilitarian shower, Maureen grabbed her meal from the servants’ kitchen and carried it back to her room to eat in solitude. She simply didn’t have it in her to deal with the chatter of the others tonight. All she wanted was to eat and curl up in her bed, giving in to the siren song of sleep, hoping she would see her lover again, the lingering tentacles of doubt grabbing her as she drifted off, making her wonder if Bodok was gone from her forever.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Maureen’s foreboding dreams of abandonment had been playing out in harsh reality for nearly a week before she felt that familiar tug on the slowly growing rune reshaping itself between her breasts. After so many days resting silent the sensation took her by surprise, sending hot excitement flowing through her belly.
Bodok was somewhere near. The question was where.
She was on an outing with Mistress Tormik, carrying her latest acquisitions as she strolled through the vendor stalls featuring the latest in offworld wares. Say what you might about the Mondarians, all other quirks aside, theirs was a prime location for trade and profit and representatives of a great many races frequented the city.
As money was no object, Mistress Tormik took full advantage of the opportunity, sorting through exotic wares, haggling with the confidence of the wife of one of the most powerful men in the city.
Maureen’s arms were fully loaded, her hands clutching the parcels tightly so they would not drop even as she was jostled by the flowing crowds. The marketplace was full today, and if not for the sea of shoppers and vendors parting for the ornately garbed woman leading the way keeping them from tumbling would have been an impossible task.
Even so, it was still something that required a fair amount of attention and a steady grip.
