Rivka the Dove

BY : Aliarhan
Category: S through Z > Xena
Dragon prints: 1685
Disclaimer: I do not own Xena, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

RIVKA THE DOVE


I

I can make him scream, you know. When he's lying back, at my mercy, so trusting as I swallow his cock and lave it over and over with my tongue, then slowly begin to build the suction, and bring my hands up to caress his balls and the part of his shaft I cannot swallow, then I make him scream.

When he erupts into my willing mouth, or my hands, of even inside me, I make him scream.

He thinks I stay because I love him. I do not love - love is not something women in my position can afford. I stay because he was the first - the only - to ever allow me a choice.

Those that defame him forget that he never coerces. You must choose him. Perhaps that was his conceit, that no one served him who did not choose to do so.

He took me on a whim. I was a body slave to the mistress of one of his generals. Deimonius and Hetradite trained me well, to give them their due. I learned tricks at their hands that have served me well so far; even before I became his most often called upon bed partner.

The Halls of War were beautiful. All stone and marble and smoke and cool in the heat of the day. While Deimonius groveled and whimpered before him, I knelt at Hetradite's feet and caressed them and licked up her thighs, teasing her as she commanded. The stupid woman didn't realize that he knew everything that took place anywhere on the grounds.

In a moment of gut wrenching nausea, we found ourselves on the floor before his throne. While Deimonius gaped, Hetradite gaped at the vision of the god before her. After one quick look, I bowed my head. When things go amiss, it is the slave who suffers.

I heard boots moving, and then my head was unceremoniously raised by a surprisingly gentle hand beneath my chin. I looked up into his eyes and I could not look away.

"I suppose this is the reason for your recent failures?" His voice was cold. Inwardly I cringed, anticipating the taste of the lash already. And still I could not look away. They say that war is ugly. I have beheld War and he is beautiful. Aphrodite should weep that such beauty still walks the earth and is not hers.

He dropped my chin, and strode over to Hetradite. Still I could not look away. His eyes raked her up and down, and finally the silly cow had the sense to make an obeisance before this dread lord.

His voice was warm. "Trained her well, have you?"

She answered eagerly, "Oh, yes. She's become quite accomplished. She was reluctant at first, but after a session with the whip and Deimonius's personal guard, she's become quite obedient to all our wishes."

He glanced quickly at me, expecting I suppose to see me wince. I do not wince anymore; the girl they routed from her home is dead. The little virgin, so carefully guarded by her parents and kin, died somewhere between the 10th whip lash and the 4th soldier to violate her. Now only I remain and I will survive. There is nothing that can be done to me that will break that resolve. The best revenge is to go on living.

He strode back to me. "Is that true, girl? Are you obedient and accomplished?"

I looked directly at him. "Yes, lord, I am well trained and obedient."

Seeking to stem his master's anger, Deimonius spoke up without being addressed. "Try her, Lord. Should she not please you...." He did not need to voice the threat. Should I not please the Lord of War, my days would be over. Painfully over.

He cut his eyes back at the groveling soldier. "I shall. Perhaps without the distraction of her presence, you will function more effectively. Do not fail me again."

Hetradite spoke up. "But she's mine! Deimonius gave her to me...."

"QUIET!" His voice thundered thru the hall. "Be very glad, woman, that I do not turn you into the sow you so closely resemble. Take this pig and get out of my sight, before I destroy you as the disappointment you are."

Deimonius dragged his mistress from the halls. I never saw them again. I do not mourn that lack.

"What is your name?" He towered over me; I still knelt on the stone floor.

I bowed my head. "Whatever you wish it to be, Master."

My head was jerked up, much less gently this time. "Do not play the simpering idiot with me. I've no time for nonsense. Now answer me, or..."

He did not need to specify what his punishment would be. I bowed my head in submission and whispered. "Before, I was called Rivka. They called me..."

He interrupted. "Rivka it is. Go with Melpone. She will show you where to bath and bring you some clothing. I will speak with you after supper. Think carefully."

I lifted puzzled eyes to him. "Master? I do not understand."

"I do not hold slaves. You are free to stay or go. Think carefully on your choice."

He dissolved into white light. I followed the old woman and thought.


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