Author's Note: I'd suggest taking a break around pages 6-8, if you find it too long. This chapter took a lot longer than usual to materialize. But it helped reveal to me the strenghts and flaws in my writing, more than I was expecting. It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story, to better understand the storyline and characters. The tension between the players works the best if you know the characters and their progressions well. It starts slow, but gets going pretty quickly. Here is a quick remainder of the story so far.
To recapitulate..
Queen Elanor of Wolkernshire, the Great Chaste, is having a hard time keeping a level head, navigating the daily politics and policies of her court, while mourning the unexpected demise of her true love, King Barthomius. Advised by the High Priest, she employs Bellatrix of Agrafena, a promising horse trainer. Bellatrix correctly identifies the key to the royal dilemma, but it involves manipulating the Queen's bodily cravings, primarily the sexual kind.
To avoid suspicion, Bellatrix is given the official title of 'Head of Households', a powerful position in its own right. Bella starts treating the 'condition' in secrecy, without violating the Queen's chastity, nor risking any exposure that would seriously impede her ability to function as the true ruling monarch. But the sheer sexual nature of the tasks waking up her inner dormant cravings, an untameable beast of true deviancy, was something no one expected.
Like any relationship, ironing out the kinks can be tedious. With things getting unpredictable and pressure mounting with each subsequent task, there came a hiatus between the two. During which Bellatrix learned things from the Queen's perspective, and the Quean realized, how inseperably entwined their fates really are.
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Soren waited patiently as the middle-aged stout woman examined the amulet, the marker proving his business in her establishment. Heavensworth Manor, the infamous official brothel in Wolkenshire. The woman before, the mononymous Madam, had an undeniable alpha presence. It wasn't Soren's first outing to the lands of men, especially disguised as one. Any other orc would have failed to pass for human. But the same inferior physical attributes that plagued his sub-tribe, makinng an outcast amongst the beastial giants, not to mention his near-albino complexion, a source of constant mockery and bullying growing up, turned to be his greatest asset in these recent clandestine outings. Although he preferred traveling alongside the gypsy circus. Men had no reason to doubt the place of whatever they could compartmentalize as a freak of nature, be it a drawf, or a captured orc, within the confines of a circus tent. But out here, on his own, the very life was at risk, if he were to be discovered.
He was Soren the Dark, after all. The finest offspring of the greens of mother Yevelsha. The devout servant of the Great Orc King Bathzurg, and emissary to the Great witch Vehmeth. The most adept spy of his kin.
Madam continued to shoot his way glares of suspicion, but he had no fear. After all he was standing in the grounds of the oldest brothel in Wolkenshire, with the finest beauties known to man, aged right for plucking, dallying around scantily clad, giggling, wooing potential customers their way. Even the aging maiden right in front, a prime-specimen in her days, looked up for the task. Besides, he respected the persistent suspicion in her eyes. It was no blind discrimination. But a look of caution, that had allied with her all life, guiding through the gutters of sex-work that consumed most of her naively carefree sisters.
Finally she returned the amulet, and instructed a young lass to guide him into an inner chamber. Walking past the girls, Soren had to stop, as a queue marched past them.
"What?! Are those really..?"
Soren asked the girl, exclaimed, staring at the line of a dozen maids that silently passed by, covered head-to toe, in all-black habit, except for the eyes. Their discipline a stark contrast against the suggestive gait of the harem girls.
"Nuns? Yes, they are, sir.." Her eyes twinkled as she continued.
"We get these visits from the clergy, once every week, on less busy days. Maidens of God, following directive from the High Priest himself. Apparently most of us aren't beyond saving.
Condescending bitches, I'd say.!
With a bunch of closet-dykes hiding among the sheep. They perform prayers, offer counseling, hoping to guide us wenches back to righteous path."
Soren's voice still had a hint of disbelief. Who in the right mind would send abstainers to a whore-house. That too women, holy-women, at a age when their whole body screams at them to breed and be fruitful. He couldn't take his eyes off, as the nuns turned right, and disappeared around the corner. Well, all except the last two. Who turned leftwards, and walked swiftly into the corridor.
That's odd..
"Righteous path, huh?! Does it work?"
"At times, sir.. Mostly old-timers, the kind that gets passed-up, even cheap. Madam thinks its good for the morale."
"Morale.?!" Soren couldn't help the sarcasm.
"You know, something to balance out.. So we don't grow bored and forgetful, of what truly drove us here in the first place. Also, its an out for the feeble-minded, yes there are a few, now and then. The kind that can't outgrow the sin. Sin, right?! Hehe.."
Trying to build a rapport, he asked smirking.
"What about the other way? Does a nun ever get a '
revelation
'? Tempted enough to stay back, I mean?"
"What do you think?"
There was that twinkle again, in her eyes.
