Chapter 154

Denethia followed, hardly looking forward to any reward this man might be preparing to bestow upon her. In truth, she dreaded the thought of what he might consider a reward. All the while, she struggled with the satisfaction she had felt in raising the ghoul — and the fact that the feeling still lingered within her. Try as she might to push back the euphoria, it refused to go away. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her stomach churned, her lips constantly twitching toward a smile that sickened her.
As had occurred a year before, Denethia was led through a door declared forbidden to her previously, into a featureless room containing only a waist-high stone pillar surmounted by a stout wooden box.
Denethia winced when Kyleria shut the door and walked past her, because she had not noticed the woman approaching through the door behind her. The dark-haired woman carried a small silk pouch and a large earthenware bowl half filled with water.
Celdin smiled and ordered, "Disrobe."
Denethia shed her garments without hesitation, knowing that the price of disobedience was far greater than that of mere failure.
Staring at the thick tangle of hair on Denethia's mound, Celdin ordered, "Tame that bramble patch, Kyleria."
The elder apprentice bowed and immediately approached Denethia, kneeling before her and putting down the bowl of water. From the silk bag emerged scissors and a razor. Denethia's face burned as the other woman knelt before her sex, and the heat intensified when Kyleria laid a hand on Denethia's thigh.
Denethia bore the humiliating touches as Kyleria first trimmed her patch of hair, and then sculpted it into a triangle above her sex with the razor. What followed was even more embarrassing, as Kyleria manipulated Denethia's labia, shaving them baby smooth. Once Kyleria rinsed away the remaining loose hair, she stood and bowed to her Master once again.
Denethia stood with her face burning, and her sex tingling. Despite the fact it was another woman touching her, she had experienced arousal from the touch. Denethia had spent six years now forbidden to pleasure herself, and the touches were like water to a thirst long unquenched.
"You may leave," Celdin ordered Kyleria.
With a final bow, the other woman left, closing the door and leaving Denethia alone with her Master once more.
Celdin approached, the disarming smile he had worn so long ago to steal her heart decorating his face. "You have flowered, Denethia. You are even more beautiful and arousing than you were the first day I saw you." Standing now before the trembling woman, he reached out to cup her right breast, "And you are far more powerful than I could have ever imagined."
Revulsion for her torturer warred with desire caused by his touch in Denethia's heart. She stood silently, enduring his caress. Even if the Master had given her leave to speak, Denethia did not believe she could have.
Removing his hand from her taut flesh, his smile grew wider upon seeing her nipples harden from his touch. "You have reached a new plateau, Denethia, and now you shall become one of the elite, as has Kyleria. Power and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams will now be yours. Come."
Denethia followed her master to the pillar, and his upraised hand instructed her to remain in front of it while he crossed to the opposite side to open the box. From within, he withdrew a chalice carved of bone-white ivory, and a knife with a blade as black as night.
Celdin approached Denethia with the items, his eyes staring intently into hers. She trembled, unable to suppress the reaction to the dark magic surrounding those two simple items. The black blade was ominous enough, but the aura of power that radiated from it was overwhelming. The part of her soul tainted by her use of the black magic surged strong within her in the face of the items' power, dark calling to dark, and she was helpless to resist it.
Celdin stopped before her and spoke, his tone grave, "You must accept your new service, Denethia. Will you join with Kyleria and the others as apprentices in my highest favor? The rewards for your acceptance are power, pleasure, and autonomy. You shall be free to pursue your studies at your leisure, save when I require specific tasks or studies. You will no longer be bound to this place, but may venture forth into the world once more, within limits. You may speak freely."
Denethia swallowed hard, and then took a deep breath before she spoke, "If I refuse?"
The Master's expression darkened, "I will be greatly disappointed, should that occur. You show great promise in the Art, and it would be a shame for that promise to go unfulfilled."
Although Celdin had not truly answered her, Denethia knew the answer implied in his words. Refusal would mean death, and worse. He would trap her soul, forever denying it passage into the next life. Celdin would use her soul to fuel his dark magics, while her body would serve him as the undead.
She had little choice. Death was no escape from the torments Celdin could offer. Refusal meant unending torment, while acceptance and obedience would at least offer her a chance of escaping this life with his blessing in the future.
She spoke the words reluctantly, though within her the darkness sang them in a joyful chorus, "I accept my service, Master."
Celdin let out a satisfied sigh, and Denethia thought she detected a note of relief in the sound as well. "The pain from the ritual that bonds you to my service is minor, and fleeting. You shall soon forget it, I assure you. Stand firm. Prove to me your dedication and your power."
"Yes, Master."
Raising the blade before him, Celdin chanted the words of his black spell. The aura of power around the knife intensified, becoming visible as a dance of shadows about the blade. Denethia found her eyes drawn to the weapon, unable to look away. Only when he ceased to chant was the spell over Denethia broken. Celdin turned the knifepoint toward Denethia and stepped forward, placing the tip against the firm flesh of her left breast.
The knife pierced her skin, and she stiffened. Celdin drew the knife downward, further opening the wound, and moved the chalice beneath her breast. Grasping her head, Celdin guided Denethia to lean forward. She could not help but watch with morbid fascination as her lifeblood dripped in a dribbling stream from her nipple into the chalice.
When her blood completely obscured the bottom of the chalice, Celdin placed the flat of the black blade over the wound in her breast. She felt a sharp stab of icy pain from the touch. When he removed the blade, her breast was whole, although still stained by her blood.
Stepping back, the Master placed the chalice and knife on the pillar, and then shed his robes. Denethia's face burned — and her sex tingled — when Celdin revealed his manhood. It was long, thick, and fully erect, drawing Denethia's eyes as if by magic to linger upon it.
Celdin again picked up the knife and chalice, this time turning the weapon upon his own chest. His blood flowed from the wound to join Denethia's in the chalice. Denethia noticed a scar upon his chest, evidence that this was not the first time he had performed this dark ritual.
Once his wound closed through the magic of the blade, Celdin cleaned the knife and placed it back in the box. He then withdrew a bottle of wine from within, and filled the chalice. Returning the bottle to the box, Celdin took up the chalice in both hands and started to chant.
Denethia's skin prickled with gooseflesh as he intoned the words of the spell, and she felt her hair stand on end. A ruddy glow emerged from the top of the chalice, eventually growing so bright that it shone through the sides of the cup. Far more frightening than the ritual was her own scent, the sharp and obvious fog of arousal filling her lungs with every breath. She longed to taste their mingled blood, and to feel his pulsing manhood enfolded in her virgin embrace — fulfilling the promise he had made to her so many years ago.
Celdin spoke the final words of the spell in an unnaturally loud voice, and then jerked as the power came into being. Denethia shivered, feeling fingers of the magic caressing her body across the distance between them.
Once again, the Master approached her. Holding the chalice before him, he looked into Denethia's eyes, and whispered, "And so we shall be joined." Celdin then brought the chalice to his lips and drained half of the contents with a shudder.
Denethia's teeth chattered as he lowered the cup, a drop of the blood-red liquid running from the corner of his mouth down to his chin. Celdin's face was a mask of ecstasy, his eyes rolled up, and his head thrown back slightly. When he looked at her again a moment later, there was hunger in his eyes.
Holding the chalice out to Denethia, he ordered, "Drink."
Denethia took the cup in her trembling hand and brought it to her lips. She was determined to drink the contents quickly, not tasting it if she could help it, and to deny the part of her that wanted to savor every drop. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, the metallic tang of blood filled her senses. The liquid was warm, almost to the point of being hot, as it slid down her throat and settled in her stomach. Denethia gasped when she drained the last drop of the potion, Celdin steadying her hand to ensure she did not drop the chalice.
She could feel the hot liquid roiling in her stomach. The feeling was not one of nausea, but rather akin to the fluttering sensation that she had experienced walking toward the woods with Celdin those many years ago. She closed her eyes and sucked in short, sharp breaths while the Master placed the chalice back upon the pillar.
He was approaching her again when her eyes opened. Almost immediately, her gaze fell upon his erection, which twitched as if in acknowledgment of the look. She could feel the wetness gathering between her legs as well, as the potion in her stomach spread warmth throughout her body.
Denethia held her breath as Celdin placed a hand on the back of her head, and two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up toward him. Leaning down, he kissed her.
She stiffened as her entire body came to life under his touch. The warmth that infused her turned to a consuming fire, mingled with jolts of electricity shooting from her spine to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her nipples hardened to turgid points, and her sex tingled with a thousand pinpricks of pleasure, from her swollen clit to her deepest depths. She started to tremble, her knees growing weak and wobbling — and then she came.
Moaning into his kiss, Denethia felt wetness running down her thighs, an eruption of juices the likes of which she had never before experienced. Untouched save for his kiss, she was shuddering from a more powerful orgasm than she could have ever imagined. He groaned as well, and Denethia felt the hot spurts of his thick cream spattering against her body.
Blackness swept over Denethia, her legs losing all strength beneath her. Dimly, she realized Celdin was supporting her and lowering her safely to the floor below, and then she knew no more.