He stood, and the pair backed away from her slightly.
Mina wriggled like a worm at the end of a hook, hating that she felt like begging them to untie her, to fuck her, to even just touch her. It would only take a moment. She would do anything for it, she knew that she would. She mewled and whimpered, and Mozok watched her, clearly pleased.
“The seed of the Herstrakaa,” Mozok said calmly after watching her for a while, “is renown as an aphrodisiac for many species. I had no idea it was so effective on Humans.” He stepped close to Mina and brought his fingers very close to her sternum without touching her.
He moved his hands over her body, a mere breath away from her nipples, her mound, the wet lips of her pussy. Mina ached for him to touch her, and he spent a long time smiling at her desire as his fingers lingered over her mound. “It would take almost nothing, I suspect, to make your body climax. Just a tiny touch,” he told her cruelly.
He stepped back, and Mina’s knees gave out, leaving her hanging by her wrist shackles for a moment. She didn’t care. She could only think of the disappointed nerves that screamed for Mozok to touch her. The pain was almost unbearable.
“If you end your Trothplight,” Mozok teased, “you would be released, free to touch yourself, to implore Voso to pleasure you… all you need to do is to say the—”
Mina shook herself, and though she felt weakened and exhausted by her ordeal, her mind snapped back into her consciousness long enough for her to seethe at Mozok.
“Never.”
CHAPTER8
They left her there, aching to relieve herself of her profound sexual desires, naked, shackled, and unable to do anything but suffer her craving, for hours. Her pussy throbbed away for what seemed like an eternity, until she screamed loudly and cried, but when Mozok returned to the room to ask her if she gave up, she shook her head and looked away. It wasn’t easy. But she would not be bested in mere hours by something as cheap as a sexual trick. Eventually, she reasoned, she would either become accustomed to her need, or it would fade.
That happened, but only after a very long time. When they returned to release her from her shackles, her hands were feeling a little numb.
After a lengthy conversation in Voso’s Herstrakaa language, Mozok informed Mina that Voso would escort her to her chambers, and that she would be expected at dinner within the hour. She was grateful for the reprieve. She was not convinced that she could endure more of their Trothplight games at that moment, though not for the same reasons she had originally feared the ritual. Instead of requiring endurance for pain and punishment, she also required endurance of a much different kind.
She craved some time alone, if only to straighten her head out.
Following the hulking form of the Herstrakaa, Mina wondered about him. Did he speak English? What was his relationship to Mozok? She couldn’t think of another relationship to compare it to, even with all of her extensive travel.
She didn’t dare ask him, though. She didn’t dare step out of line, because whether she wanted to concede a victory to this pair or not, the truth was that she couldn’t endure more punishments or pleasure, and she really, really needed to think her way through her confusing feelings without either of them in her presence.
Voso led her through the fortress, and they had made many, many twists and turns before Mina realized that she had been thinking about Voso and Mozok and not paying attention to which turns they were taking.
A few moments after she had this thought, the great beast spoke. It startled her to hear his voice speaking English, but also, his words spooked her. He seemed almost to have been reading her thoughts.
“If you were considering escaping,” Voso said, as if she had begun a conversion with him, “do not concern yourself with trying to find a way out.”
He stopped abruptly and turned back toward Mina. Her heart was kicking wildly against her chest. Had he somehow heard her thoughts?
Herstrakaa are not telepathic, she told herself solemnly.
Voso was looking at her, and she returned his gaze stubbornly.
“You need only end the Trothplight to be allowed to leave,” Voso said. “But the storm is very dangerous, and it is very easy to get lost in this… building.”
He pressed his palm to the wall, next to a sealed door. The door opened, and Voso gestured for her to enter. She did, her eyes widening with surprise and wonderment.
“The windows and… this area, outside, where you may stand? They have been sealed. For the storm.”
Mina was taking in the elaborate grandeur of the suite of rooms around her. Decorated in much the style of the city of Old Celox, the rooms were splendid. Beyond splendid: arched doorways were framed by intricately detailed stone and tile work, and carved sea-wood abounded. She turned to Voso, almost ready to ask a question. She remembered the requirement about speaking, so, not knowing what else to do, she put her hand up.
Voso looked at her, very confused, before raising his own hand in the same gesture. “I do not know what this means,” he said.
Mina pointed to her mouth and clapped her fingers together in what was, on Earth, a universal sign for talking. But she could see this only confused Voso further.
“I have a question,” she blurted. “But I don’t know how to ask for permission to speak.”
Voso looked further confused, but then shook his head. “You do not require it outside of the trials of Trothplight. What is your question?”
It occurred to Mina that she had more than one, especially given that answer. But she had better stick to what she had originally intended.
