Chapter 149

The doors swung open, and I stood before her, flanked by two of her zombie underlings. Even though I took this to be her personal bedroom, the stench of death and decay was unmistakable and unavoidable. The thought of who I might see on the other side of that door bothered me more than the two shambling corpses who had escorted me here. She was a Necromancer, it was assumed she'd have undead servants. They don't need to breath, don't need to eat, and don't complain if they are ordered to work for days on end without a rest. Perfect little slaves. Just like me...
The sight wasn't anything like what I was prepared for. I had been expecting an adult, but this girl before me was only twenty if she was a day. Her blonde hair, streaked here and there with lines of red, flowed loose around her shoulders. Dark black eyes looked into mine, groping my inner thoughts with just her gaze. My mind started to fog, and I surrendered to her allure.
"Funny," She remarked to her servants, "I don't remember her being among the prisoners. I was expecting another man, like last time, but…" She looked at me, eyes roaming up and down, lips pursed in thought. "I suppose you will do for tonight. Won't you?"
"Yes, Mistress," I heard myself answer.
"Wonderful. Leave us."
The two shambling husks of former humans grunted in unison, released their grips on my arms, and lurched back down the hall into the shadows. I watched one of them go, the infected, maggot-infested sword wound on its back completely ignored. Why wouldn't you use something a bit cleaner as a slave, I wondered. Something less grotesque, at least?
She led me by the elbow, and I followed without hesitation. The first step my bare foot took on the floor of her room, I shivered. The flagstone was so…cold. I looked at her naked legs, her bootless feet, and wondered how she tolerated it.
She brought me further into the room, then stopped, gazing into my eyes again, as if to make certain the spell had taken hold. Cold ran up my spine, but I did my best not to shiver again. Finally satisfied that she had me right where she wanted me, she turned away and shrugged off her cloak.
I looked around the room. It was tremendous for just a single occupant, easily sixty by sixty, if not more. Candles flickered in the corners, stuck to the tops of skulls (human and otherwise) with clotted wax. From somewhere that I could not immediately identify, a scent of incense floated into my nostrils. Cheap aroma, yes, but anything masking the smell of death was better than nothing, I supposed.
Suddenly she was in front of me again with a movement so subtle that it caught me by surprise. I stepped back involuntarily, but she only smiled. "I want you to ball up your fist, and hit me. Right now. With all your strength."
God knows I wanted to, I knew what she was, but my hand stayed firmly rooted at my side. I clenched my fingers, pulled at my muscles, screamed at them to obey me just this one. But they refused.
She laughed. "Excellent. You cannot. I assure you, this is a good thing. Please, come this way."
I followed her to the massive bed that dominated the center of the room. A four-poster canopy affair, it looked large enough to sleep six man-sized humanoids comfortably, much less her small body and mine.
She stepped behind me, and I felt the straps on my tunic being loosened. I had tied the knots well, and she got frustrated quickly. Once again, she was in front of me. I watched her lick the small fingernail of her right hand, then she drew it across the shoulders of my shirt. The fabric parted for her as though it were smoke, and the garment dropped to the floor. Again, a chill seized my body, but I stood still.
Taking my face in her hands, she pressed her lips to mine and held the kiss for a moment before stepping back. The smile still had not left her face; it was the smile of one who was completely in control, and knew it. "Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

"Jasmine," I replied.
"As the spice. Magnificent. Do you know why you are here?"
"I do, Mistress."
"Good..." At her gesture, the ties holding her shirt to her skin unbound themselves. She wore no bra, instead her pale breasts with their small, pink nipples perked up at once from the direct exposure to the cold. Her stomach was flat as well, like that of one who got enough exercise to keep fat away, but not enough to bulk her up like a man. "You are still over-dressed to be in my chambers. As my guest, I insist you remedy this at once."
"Of course, Mistress." The small leather skirt I was wearing which barely hid my modesty found itself on the floor beside her top.
"Mine too."
Silently, I nodded, knelt on the floor and pulled the short pants she was wearing down to the stones. One leg at a time, she stepped out of them, and bade me rise. Her hand went to my back, and I felt the nail part the strap of my brassiere as she had done to my shirt before. The fabric slowly peeled away from my skin, but I did not move to cover myself.
Then both hands were at my hips, and the last vestige of my clothing gave way to her fingers, slit up both legs to the waistband. It fell to the ground, joining the rest of the accumulated garments there. All that remained was a slender strap of fabric which circled my left thigh.
"Now then, see to my underwear."
I bent again, and put my hands on her hips, but her fingers brought my chin up to face her. "With just your mouth."
Nodding, I silently placed my lips at the top of her panties, clenched the fabric with my teeth, and tugged gently. They started to come down in the front.
She stepped sideways with her left leg, halting the progress I had made. "You can do better than that."
Taking the hint, I nuzzled her crotch with my nose, noting her heady scent, like that of a fine, aged wine. I kissed swiftly, then grabbed the fabric again in my teeth, and tore them from her legs, ripping them down the front so that the back side fell to the floor, while I was left with the crotch piece still between my lips. I let it slide from my mouth.
She stretched, put a hand on my hand when I started to stand, and tapped me. "I did not tell you to get up."
"Of course not, Mistress," I replied, kneeling down again.
"Now you may rise," she said, taunting me, and took her hand away.
I stood again, taking in the curves and form of her body as I did so. Her legs were firm, but not overly tight as one of travels long on foot. Her hands were smooth, deceptively so, for one who worked so closely and intricately with the dark arts. A subtle aura of energy wrapped itself around her at all times, barely perceptible to my proximity. Her crotch had been shaven, devoid of any sprout of hair. Without knowing why, I wanted her.
Her face was as smooth as the finest silk I had seen in the city, and almost as white. Being out in the sun was obviously not a priority to her, but it enhanced her beauty in some way, making her seem delicate and doll-like. It was little wonder men had died for her while in her company. She looked fragile, the kind of look that inspired others to protect and defend. But it was all a deception. Within her flowed powerful energies, strong enough to yank the dead from their graves, force mummies from hidden tombs, and repair the skeletons of warriors who perished on the battlefield centuries earlier. That this girl had so much strength thrust into such a delicate frame amazed me, and I found myself speechless as I looked into her eyes.
"You are doing well so far," she said softly. "Let us test further."
She led me to the bed, laid upon it, then bade me join her. "For the moment, I am yours to do with as you please. But..." Her eyes flared yellow for a split second, as though the coming thought caused her extreme anger, and she pulled my ear to her lips where she whispered harshly. "Do not disappoint me, or I will not hesitate to let every last one of your companions become dinner for my servants. And then, after you have watched the flesh and muscles torn from their bones, listened to their tortured screams of agony, and their pleadings for release, after you have watched them all perish, one by one, before your eyes, you will see them rise again, and serve as their first meal. The dead are always so...hungry...when they first re-join this plane."
Again, I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. "I...I understand, Mistress."
She released my head, laid back, and closed her eyes, and purred. "Yes. I know you do."
I swallowed, then dipped my head towards hers. Our lips touched, and I reveled in the chill of them, so red and yet cold. I could not keep my tongue to myself, pushing it between her lips and teeth, tasting the coolness as much as feeling it for myself. Her arms wrapped across my bare back, and I felt her fingernails brushing me gently, exciting my skin with their touch.
I ran my hands through her hair, spreading it out beside her on the pillows, wrapping it around my fingers as I kissed her as deeply and passionately as I had ever kissed any man, tugging at the ends and running it across her chest. She opened her legs, and I laid completely across her, breasts pressed together in our embrace. Though she seemed to draw the heat from my body, the reactions to what I was doing coursed through my blood, heating me as quickly as she chilled, bringing every part of me to a tingling sensation I had never felt before, like being caressed with a thousand invisible, incorporeal feathers. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, stinging initially like ice, but the sensation faded after some seconds, and I soon forgot that anything was different about it.
Her left hand pressed my head to hers, while her right hand continued to rub up and down my spine, and I arched my back without breaking the embrace. My heart beat faster, and I felt her breathing deepen as we still kissed.
Propping myself up with one arm, I let my right hand drift to her left breast, feeling the supple, delicate orb with my fingertips. This time, she was the one who shivered, not I, as I traced the swell of her nipple, which was standing out from the temperature and, I hoped, my actions so far.
I released her mouth from mine, and she grudgingly let it go when she felt my tongue sliding down her neck. Both of her hands went to my breasts, cupping them with the palms to the nipples, and a charge of electricity and cold shot through my body.
I sucked on her neck for a moment, then made my way lower, my tongue gliding across her breast, then across the areola. I nibbled around the light pink area for a few seconds before I took the nipple between my lips.
She moaned under me, and pressed her body closer to mine. Her hands left my chest, then danced up through my hair and down again on my cheeks. I felt moisture between my legs, but ignored it for the moment.
I switched breasts, and this produced another moan from her. With my mouth on her left one, I swirled the saliva left on the right around on her skin, sucking in and out, and nibbling as I went. The liquid cooled quickly against the pale mound of her chest. As I felt her part her legs farther, I knew she was ready, and was surprised it hadn't taken longer than this.
"Lower, slave."
I slipped my hand between her legs and cupped her crotch, but she slapped my hand away. "If I wanted your fingers, I would have told you. You have other parts that are much better suited to this. Use them."
"Yes, Mistress." With a feeling of disappointment, I removed my mouth from her breast, and slid down her stomach, kissing as I went, before I reached the top of her pubic mound. I hesitated, and she put her hand on the back of my head, locking me there for the moment.
"Remember what will happen if you fail to please me," she warned.