The moon watches us
From between white autumn clouds.
So silent and serene is she,
That I hold you close my lover,
Lest you fall beneath her spell.

– The Canticle of Menkeret

Jaano’s smile is deliciously charming and the merest hint of it gives me great joy. He is like a boy who has suddenly found himself tall enough to pluck a choice summer pomegranate. But perhaps that smile of his has become just a little too self assured and too self satisfied. Still, I cannot blame him; he has pleased me greatly and should feel some measure of pride. He turns now to look at me and his muscles ripple like the ocean when it is touched by the morning breeze. I gaze at him. My face is composed and serene as always, but it is a mask beneath which intense emotions lurk; emotions which flicker across my eyes when I am distracted. I am ever thus and would not be otherwise. Resignation and acceptance of a slave’s lot are death; the death of the soul and the defeat of the spirit. The Darrakhai might enslave my body but, with each passing day, they unwittingly embolden my spirit. I place two fingers into my pussy; wetting them well with Jaano’s abundant man-seed, which now drips freely from me like honey from a sundered bee hive. Without warning, I smear some on each of his cheeks and laugh at him. He replies with a quizzical look and asks,

“Is this some venerable old Mentrassan custom Kayla?”

“No, I just wanted to see you with zhen on your face.”

“Zhen?”

“Yes, that’s what we of Mentrassanae call man-seed.”

“Oh, and I thought you were anointing me in some holy rite to Menkeret.”

“I have already done that. I dedicated our love to Menkeret, the Lord of Elision, when I traced his name upon your back.”

“I am honoured,” he says seriously.

“But now I am checking your pride, O lowly dilruba player and marking you as a penitent before the Great Goddess, the all – mother yonder; holy, yet nameless as she is.”

Though I jest, I am stern voiced; only my eyes tell him that I am still in a playful mood.

The lamps burn low now in the Lapis Chamber. I could fetch oil to replenish them but I find the gloom most pleasing. The flames flicker occasionally; disturbed by an eddy in the air, the origin of which is unknown to me. The lamplight illuminates Jaano’s dark features, lending a mysterious obscurity to his handsomeness and giving the whites of his eyes an otherworldly look. He bears the cast of a hero of the ancient sagas; a semi-divine champion of destiny. Ill-fated though most of these heroes are; their prowess in love-craft is proverbial. I smile at him as he abruptly shifts his weight now from one buttock to the other. In the process, his thick cock slaps against his thigh, leaving a small wet imprint. It is still long and shapely I notice, and hardly recovered from our recent lovemaking. We have been here some three hours, talking, eating, relaxing and making love. Weary of my own company, who better than a beautiful man to share such delights. Delights that the Lady Itelyssia has seen fit to grant me. Indeed, they are my due for having served her these many months with my mind and my body. Who better than Jaano; player on the dilruba with his most engaging smile? Jaano, that robber of the heart!

“Jaano.”

“Aye, Kayla.”

“I wish to know about the land of Zonovon.”

“Speak not of it, I pray you. It is a shattered, smoking ruin my lady sorceress.”

“Be that as it may, you once had a royal family, did you not?”

“Aye, what of them? They are all dead. Only jackals reign in the lofty palaces and hallowed courts of Zonovon now.”

“There was a king and his queen, I know, but how many children did they have?”

“Eight; five princes and three princesses. I performed occasionally for Crown Prince Vindrakka and his household. He was a great music lover and a most generous patron indeed. I always aspired to join his retinue.”

Jaano says this with such cheerless resignation that I am touched and then, my mind intuitively makes a connection to something else I have recently been told.

“Five boys and three girls you say. What were the names of the princesses?”

He thinks for a moment and shakes his head as though dislodging cobwebs from his memory.

“Veneeta, Haarl-Asha and Raia.”

“And which of those three was the youngest?”

“Raia…but why does this interest you?”

“We of Mentrassanae are a curious folk.”

“Aye, a curious race indeed,” he says dryly.

I ignore his attempt at wit and press on.

“Tell me Jaano, was one of the princes known as…… Haron?”

“Not Haron, Haruun.”

“Is Haruun a common name in Zonovon?”

“No, I would say not. Like all our royal names, it is hereditary.”

“And the Princess Raia, was she the youngest of all the royal siblings?”

“No, Prince Haruun was the youngest.”

“Do you know Raia’s full name?

Now he closes his eyes and only replies after a long moment.

“Raia Lumiya Immanea. She was a beautiful, shy girl, with golden hair, kindly, fine voiced but too quiet. I remember being presented to her and talking with her briefly when I performed for her brother Vindrakka. She must have been about 16 at the time.”

“What does Raia mean in your language? Does it have a meaning?”

“Aye, it is a very ancient term in the Zon dialect for ‘stone of sacrifice.’

“Or ‘altar’?”

“Aye.”

“Would you know her if you met her again?

Now Jaano looks at me with great uncertainty but also with a glimmer of fire in his eyes; as though I hold a fragment of a past he thought irretrievably lost and I am dangling it teasingly before him.

“You can even revive the dead in Mentrassanae?” He says with barely veiled disgust and disbelief.

“Nay my friend, we cannot.” My tone is conciliatory as he turns from me. There I let the matter rest for now. We sit quietly for a while, listening to the strange and subtle sounds made by this vast and mysterious water filled room. As our eyes meet at last, I take a deep breath, close my eyes and sing to him.

Forever fain and free
We two shall ever be
Let us invoke the spring
And laud the northern rains,
Of rich harvests sing
And dance upon the plains.
Forever fain and free
It is our right to be,
My bright new love,
Pure as the dawning light;
The skies above
Will revel in the sight
Of our first kiss,
Of our eternal fire
And long after this;
To death’s undying ire,
Forever fain and free
We too shall ever be.

Jaano’s delicious smile returns – to me it is the most welcome of smiles. Once again, it is plain he is entranced.

“A lovely song my lady and well composed; is it another old ballad from the north?”

“Nay, it is just a little trifle, which I made up.”

“I see that your talents Kayla go far beyond sorcery and frightening poor, unsuspecting dilruba players well-nigh unto death.”

I laugh and am glad that he has asserted his personality. He is good natured, kindly and beautiful. I slide next to him and look deep into his eyes; a trace of melancholy still lingers there so I kiss him and soon, his powerful arms embrace me. Our mouths hold sweet communion for a time; until my hands at last seek Jaano’s manhood. He opens his eyes and shakes his head,

“No my lady, it is my desire to taste you deeply and give you pleasure with my mouth.”

“Very well,” I smile and lie back upon the cool tiled floor.

Jaano’s tongue splendidly caresses the soft skin of my inner thighs. I raise my leg and hold it over him as he kisses and licks my cool flesh. I place a hand upon his mane of black hair to encouraging him. The pleasant sensation of his lips and tongue begins to fill me; his hands press my skin as he works his way towards my pussy. It has only been several minutes since our last coupling but already I want his tongue between my velvet folds again, over my nub and inside my inner depths. Now his powerful hands gently spread my pussy; revealing my pale vermillion flower. It is an exquisite bloom and one still wet with his milky dew.

Partake of our mingled nectar Jaano; yours and mine, and taste the sweet essence of the Gods.

Partake he does and I can feel my pussy moisten as his tongue explores its manifold treasures again. Now Jaano tastes his seed while lapping at my moist lips. He finds my clit and his tongue circles it superbly; such is his skill. Instinctively I press his face closer as his tongue tickles my sensitive bud. To us, the Mentrassa, this is a sacred act; celebrated in poetry and song since time immemorial. The mystical heart of womanhood is a small, seemingly insignificant place but it is a place of great power; the eye of the needle of creation and the epicenter of the maelstrom. As Jaano abandons himself to his desire, I toss my head back; sending my raven hair cascading. I sing softly, keeping time with the strokes of his slick and masterful tongue. After a little time though, I am breathless and my mind swims with pleasure; our juices dripping down my thighs like nectar from a ripe peach. I hear him moan softly as his tongue licks as much of my pussy as it can. My limbs are weak with desire and languid with wonderfully indescribable sensation.

Jaano presses home his advantage and redoubles his efforts. Soon shudders of sublime pleasure begin to overwhelm me; gathering in intensity, like the late autumn breeze above the sea cliffs of my distant home. I struggle to contain the flood of euphoria soon surging over me. I cry out Jaano’s name over and over again. He is momentarily surprised but does not lay down his task for many minutes, until my voice is stilled. My eyes roll back as I breathe heavily, sweat beading on my face. At last, I see his head emerge from between my legs; he smiles as he sees my face.

“I trust my skills have met with your approval my Lady.”

I say nothing; only smiling at him distantly for a moment. But soon I am seized with desire and I embrace his neck. My sweat streaks his face as I kiss him boldly. We stand and I notice that his cock is rigid with need. It is indeed a beautiful instrument; perfectly sculpted of his fine flesh, rising elegantly and powerfully in a splendid curve from the tapering columns of his legs. It is shaven smooth in the manner dictated by our oppressors, but this only serves to enhance its beauty. What woman would not wish to possess it, what woman would not wish to drink deeply of its delights? None.

I kneel before it, but just as I am about to take it into my mouth I stop and look up at Jaano. I see him looking down at me; his face full of wanton desire, but he says nothing, nor does he move. Patience, it seems, is one of his chief virtues, a virtue which holds great currency with me and one that I now intend to reward amply. I clamp my hand around his thick shaft and slide the head of his cock between my lips. How fine it is, how good it feels in my mouth. My mouth waters sweetly as though I am eating a ripe, midsummer fig. I am eager to afford Jaano as much pleasure as I can, so I close my eyes and work upon the full length of his cock with every technique that I have mastered. Over the years I have read many Mentrassan treatises on oral pleasure and now bring all my skills to bear upon Jaano delectable manhood.

Soon he is my plaything. I have him enthralled; heaving, moaning, thrusting, sweating, his face contorted with intense desire and near delirium. He utters ancient, musical words that I do not understand but they are said with such passion that I an emboldened and renew my efforts. My long hair shakes as I bob my head up and down before him. Before long I feel Janno gather up some of my shining, raven tresses and run them through his fingers. After several minutes I feel his body begin to tense, I sense his juices gathering as my throat and mouth work relentlessly towards his release. I would never deny myself pleasure; it is unseemly for a woman of Mentrassanae to do so. I stop and stand.

The mouth that seconds ago was devouring his cock now kisses his tender lips. He embraces me strongly and I feel his rigid rod press against my body like a thorn. I reach down, take its head and guide it into me, then I turn us both around so I am against the wall; an uncharacteristically submissive posture for me, I’ll grant you! Now Janno’s strong, supple hands lift my body up so that I rest against the cool wall of the Lapis Chamber. He uses the wall for leverage and his cock slides with the greatest of ease, deep into my dripping pussy. I grip his neck and balance my fore arms upon his shoulders. Now he thrusts into me like never before. We are one, a single complete entity, perfectly attuned to each others need and desires. Time seems to slow and deep in my mind I hear the priests of Menkeret sing the sacred canticle. I breathe in the sweet incense of the temple. Our love is indeed a blessed, sacred thing.

Jaano’s body works like a machine; each time I bounce up, he pulls me back down and our bond becomes closer, our bodies are locked in mystic union. Our flesh is hard, hot and fast; our eyes too lock in an unbreakable embrace. After many wonderful strokes of his cock, I disengage from him, but only for a moment. I drop onto all fours and spread my ass cheeks. Jaano needs no further invitation. I feel his cock enter me from behind. I look down and can already see his heavy balls swinging back and forth. His pace increases rapidly and soon our legs are slapping together, my breasts swing and I match his every forward stroke with equal force. I intone his name again and again; such is the exhilaration that he produces in me!

Now I feel his strong palms rubbing my sides with long, sensual strokes; he rubs my back and my shoulders. He grasps my buttocks and so abandons himself to euphoric pleasure. This is a man! This is what it means to make love! Now Jaano’s eyes close and he stops breathing, his thrusts quicken, his pulse rises and his teeth clench, I hold him close and silently invoke my god. Now, at last, I feel spurt after spurt of his warm seed caress my deepest recesses. It is a profoundly satisfying sensation.

Now his beautiful head drops onto my shoulder. I let Jaano recover for a moment then I grind my pussy against him; milking the last drops from his still very rigid cock. Oh the power of it! Jaano breathes hard and I half hear my name escape his lips, I smile.

Minutes later, when we have both caught our breath, we walk hand in hand to the edge of the pool. Here we sit and for a while, silently contemplate the Great Goddess. The ethereal beauty of this statue is awe inspiring indeed; each nuance of light and shade giving it a vital, inner life. It is of such a high degree of artistry and workmanship that any land would prize it as a masterpiece. With some effort I take my eyes off it and look at Jaano. He grins broadly then diverts his gaze and speaks softly,

“Kayla, ever since I first saw you I have been unable to stop thinking about you.”

I fight the urge to laugh.

“At night in my pallet,” he continues, “I lie awake and imagine that you are at my door. Now I find you here and I wonder; is it all a dream? Or are you indeed a goddess?”

Without replying I slip silently into the water and draw him to the very edge of the pool. As he sits with his legs in the water, I take his heavy cock and cleanse it with cool drops from my hands. Confidently I push back the skin around the head of his cock and wash it with pure water. Next, I cup his balls; each in turn and sooth his tired muscles. Unbeknownst to him, this is the ritual that all Mentrassan women perform when they take a new lover; claiming his body as their own. It is a serious ritual and I look up at Jaano with due solemnity. He continues to smile at me good naturedly and I am gladdened that the goddess Fate has seen fit to bring us together here; on this night, in this exquisite room.

Jaano watches my efforts intently until I finish, then his attention is diverted by a small, shining form by his side. It is a spider.

The spider is an auspicious animal in Mentrassanae; the symbol of fortitude, patience, abstemiousness and circumspection. Indeed, in the Mentrassan script, the form of the character for patience is based on a spider. I quickly and quietly inform Jaano of these facts when I notice him assuming a somewhat threatening attitude towards the little beast. It is a large, purple house-spider; slow, lumbering and totally inoffensive, of a kind native to Darrakhai. Enlightened, Jaano settles back and we watch the little animal scuttle harmlessly past and away across the large blue-green floor tiles.

Lost is today and lost is the morrow…………

I am momentarily unsettled by a feeling of dread as lines from the sacred canticle re-enter my mind.

Mires both of chagrin and of sorrow………

“Jaano, we must leave this room, now.”

“But why my lady, morning is still far away?”

“I fear that spider is a portent.”

“But you said it is a propitious animal.”

“Trust in my instincts Jaano, I am a sorceress!”

He is wide-eyed for a moment and maintains his silence until I speak.

I emerge from the water and we hurriedly gather our few possessions. Most importantly I take up the key with its three precious beads. Jaano still looks at me with a touch of whimsy; so I am his desire! I have been the desire of many but few have been worthy of me; most admirable amongst them by far is my beloved Oltos; that paragon of manly virtues. As we quickly depart the Lapis Chamber I turn and offer a silent prayer to the Great Goddess,

“Keep him eternally in the warmth of your embrace O universal mother. Farewell my Oltos, farewell my lost beloved.”

No sooner do we open the door and step through it than we are set upon by a group of beast-like minions. They ambush and overwhelm us, roughly binding our limbs. Hoods of black cloth are put over our heads, then we are picked up and taken away. What dismal fate awaits us……..?

Stay tuned for the exciting 8th chapter of The Slave Princess.

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