Instructing the Novice: A Kindred Tales PLUS Novel: Brides of the Kindred Read online

  “Oh, I see! Guard!” Mistress Gettsum called, motioning for the same guard who had set up the rocking chair.

  “Yes, Mistress?” He came in a hurry, looking concerned.

  “Mistress Paige here is unable to eat flesh of any kind,” Mistress Gettsum declared. “Please be so kind as to bring her plant-based meal items to boil in the Yandaloo broth.”

  “At once, Mistress! Apologies for my ignorance about your food preferences.” The guard bowed low and whisked the plate with writhing orange and purple blobs away.

  “Thank you!” Lizabeth said, giving her table-mate a grateful smile. “You certainly do know how to manage things around here!”

  “I should—I’ve been here eight cycles now.” Mistress Gettsum smiled. “I only came to study for a few days, you know but then I found that this place suited Oglethorpe and me so well. Back on Yonnie Six he’s my bodyslave and I have to make him wear a pain collar and pretend like we don’t have sex—which we do—a lot!” she added, giggling. “But here at the Tower he can be my Novice and we can do whatever we want and nobody cares. Isn’t that right, Ogie?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” came the muffled reply from beneath her. And then her Novice resumed lapping, making her moan with pleasure for a moment. “But I notice you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself much,” she said to Lizabeth, frowning. “Do you even have your Novice’s shaft inside you? The rocking chair is useless otherwise.”

  “Um, I…” Lizabeth wasn’t sure what to say. But she was saved from having to think up an excuse by the return of the guard.

  He was carrying a silver plate which he presented to Lizabeth with a flourish.

  “Here you are, Mistress! Pyrnig fungus from the deepest crevasses of the Sacred Mountain.”

  “Oh…thank you,” Lizabeth said faintly. The things on the silver plate which he set before her were scarcely an improvement on the living boogers. They were dirty for one thing and oddly shaped for another. In fact, they looked like a cross between a mushroom and a ginger root that had been rolled in black dirt.

  Still she couldn’t eat nothing at all—the Mistress Superior was still watching her and frowning. Lizabeth picked up one of the dirty, gnarled root-things and began trying to brush some of the dirt off of its crusty surface.

  “Oh, no—don’t do that!” Mistress Gettsum exclaimed, seeing what Lizabeth was doing. “You mustn’t brush off the flavor! Just dunk it right in the pot—that’s how you eat Pyrnig fungus.”

  “Oh, I…just didn’t want to get the, uh, broth dirty,” Lizabeth said faintly as she dropped the gnarled, dirty root into the bubbling pot.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Mistress Gettsum said encouragingly. “It will only add to the delicious flavor of the Yandaloo broth. Now take it out before it gets too done!” she added, frowning. “You mustn’t overcook Pyrnig!”

  “Oh, all right.” Quickly Lizabeth fished in the pot with the silver prongie. She finally managed to stab the lumpy root and bring it, dripping, up from the pot.

  It was scarcely less dirty than when it had gone into the broth but now she could see its true color at least—an unappetizing mottled grayish-purple. Lizabeth reminded herself grimly that mushrooms were gray too and she loved those. What was this, after all, but a kind of alien mushroom? She should just eat it and get it over with.

  Reluctantly, she brought the dripping root to her nose and took a whiff. A strong odor of rotten fish, ripe garbage, and the unmistakable scent of cow shit drifted up to her.

  “Ugh!” she exclaimed involuntarily, pulling her face away.

  “Oh yes, Pyrnig can have a rather pungent aroma,” Mistress Gettsum remarked, watching Lizabeth’s reaction. “That’s the twig-twig dung it’s grown in. But the flavor is spectacular.”

  “Excuse me—dung? Did you say it’s grown in dung?” Lizabeth looked down at the dirt-streaked, lumpy root at the end of her prongie in disbelief. So that black stuff on it wasn’t dirt after all.

  “Yes, of course!” Mistress Gettsum nodded eagerly. “It’s more than half the flavor—that’s why you don’t want to overcook it and wash it all off. Well, go on—take a bite and try it.”

  She was watching closely and so, Lizabeth saw, were several other mistresses, including the Mistress Superior herself. Oh God, was she really going to have to do this? Was she going to have to put dung-covered alien fungus in her mouth?

  I can’t, she thought, feeling sick even as she brought the Pyrnig closer to her mouth. Even if it means getting kicked out of here I just can’t do this!

  But it looked like she had no choice.

  Just as she was about to open her mouth, Lone wrapped his arms around her waist and thrust up against her, shaking her entire body so much that the silver prongie and the gnarled, dirty root it held were knocked from her hand and onto the floor.

  “Oh!” Lizabeth gasped as he did it again…and then again.

  “Oh my—your naughty Novice!” Mistress Gettsum giggled. “Did he choose that exact moment to start fucking you really hard? My Ogie likes to surprise me like that sometimes too.”

  “I…he…” Seeing that everyone was still watching her and there was no better explanation, Lizabeth decided to go with it. “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, he did. Oh!”

  “Mistress,” Lone growled in her ear and thrust up against her again. As he spoke, he pulled her back into his lap so that she was sitting at more of an angle to him. The new position forced Lizabeth forward and opened her thighs. In short order she found that instead of just pressing against her ass, the thick base of his shaft was pressing against her bare pussy. She gave an involuntary moan as Lone thrust against her again and she felt his thickness part her pussy lips and rub against her throbbing clit.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, Lone!”

  “Don’t fight it, Lizabeth,” he murmured in her ear. “Just pretend you’re riding me. In a moment we can both ‘come’ and then you can dump all those things in the pot and pretend you ate them.”

  It was a better plan than Lizabeth had been able to come up with. Though it was extremely embarrassing to simulate fucking her assistant in front of a roomful of strangers, it still beat eating the horrible Pyrnig fungus.

  Not that she had to pretend about the pleasure he was giving her.

  “Oh!” she moaned again as Lone thrust up again, his thickness sliding against her throbbing pussy, which was now spread wide so that she could feel every stroke of his long, hard cock against her sensitive clit. She ached with emptiness but there was a sudden fullness elsewhere. With an embarrassed gasp, she realized her breasts were filling with nectar again as the needing hit her full-force.

  “Lone,” she managed to gasp. “My…my breasts…”

  “Mistress?” he made the title a question but the next moment his big, warm hands found their way up to her full mounds, which were now pressing hard against the black mesh dress. He cupped her breasts, her aching nipples nestled in his palms as he thrust again. “The needing,” Lizabeth heard him mutter. “It’s on you, isn’t it?”

  All she could do was moan. She wasn’t sure if having her pussy stimulated was the reason for the sudden attack or not—all she knew was that her breasts were full and aching and the emptiness inside her was almost unbearable.

  Suddenly all the reasons she’d given herself for why she couldn’t fuck her assistant seemed to go straight out the window. She had never felt the emptiness this strongly—it felt like a black hole had opened inside her and she would die if it wasn’t filled—if her pussy wasn’t filled with his cock.

  “Lone, please,” she managed to gasp as he continued to thrust against her, simulating long, slow strokes. “Can’t…can’t stand it. Need…need you inside me. Please.”

  She had expected that he would jump at the chance to take her for real. He had sworn that he wouldn’t enter her with his shaft unless she asked him to and here she was, practically begging. But instead of taking advantage of her need, Lone stopped what he was doing and reached between them.