The Judgement Moon

THIRD RIDING - EMILY

Emily Candlewick was a sobbing mess. Huddled naked on the floor in nothing but a control collar, she burned with intense shame. She covered up as much as she was able, wrapping herself into a tight ball. The shaming scope had left her hoarse from pleading and sobbing. With each extracted, awful, fantasy pulled from her sex, she had become more and more vulnerable--more raw and tender.

Now, she would have given up her freedom just for a dress to cover herself with. Being naked was intolerable. She felt as though anyone could just look at her skin and know her deepest, most embarrassing secrets. Her smell would give her up as wanton. Her sex--her uncovered sex--a mound of pink shame, lusting to be used.

It had felt like hours since she lay under the scope as the astrologer scoured her for the thread of contact with the bandit queen. He had found what he was seeking; it seemed and had released her from the table, allowing her to quiver and cry on the floor.

Her sex was moist as a reaction to the deep humiliation and the idea of scent and discharge from her private place was unendurable! Every curve of her body--every mild defect, every modest flaw--seemed radiant. A beacon of shame.

She was certain she could not pee in a bucket and the idea of moving her bowels at all, even in private, would be a scalding humiliation! Her deplorable vagina and clitoris cried out for sexual relief, but even if she was allowed, she couldn't bear to touch it. The idea of another even seeing, much less touching or smelling her sex was impossible! The thought of a cock in her? She wailed in misery.

She was aware of voices speaking above her head. The astrologer, Shelton and the obese Mr. Towbee were conversing.

"It should be here--the meeting," the astrologer was pointing to a spot on his map. "I tracked it here. The vectors are weak, but our bandit shared a private moment with the governess, so I feel confident. There is some connection between them already--I have a suspicion both were trained by the order."

"The bandit woman?" Mr. Towbee was surprised and unsettled.

"Yes. Or someone in her crew," the astrologer said. "Would it be so surprising for them to seed the countryside with their spies?"

Mr. Towbee grumbled, thinking this over.

"And the box?" He asked.

"I will try to track it from this point," he said. "Presumably this 'Lady Vulpis' has it. We may have enough to track her. Or Astalia if she is yet a captive."

"And this one?" he gestured down at the quivering girl.

"Ah--the... scope... is quite bad," said the astrologer proudly. "She won't be this tender for long--but she will be extremely modest for many moons or even years!"

"I mean," rumbled Towbee, "you are done with her?"

"Oh. Yes," mumbled the astrologer. "I am. We should inform Mr. Rath."

"Yes," Towbee said. "I feel we should."

THIRD RIDING - DAME KNIGHT LISTILY

She spun, the raw joy of performance--of smooth motion and the realization of her will upon her body--coursed through her. One of the black things, her sword slicing easily through its hide, yowled in rage as it died.

Unclean didn't die like animals: there was no fear--only, perhaps, pain. A Nixie had once thrown its curse at her, considering that its unbearable itch, landed about her urethra and clit, would be highly amusing, being unreachable under her armor.

Her blow had splattered it like a leather water-skin filled with multi-colored paints! Instead of fear or rage or swears of vengeance, the Nixie's hive-mates had laughed at the fate of their sister. She parlayed with them: she did, in fact, suffer minutes of horrid discomfort--but she grit her way through it, disappointing the fluttering Unclean girls mightily. She learned that their fellow was not dead in the conventional sense, but returned to some sphere of muck and slime to be eventually shat out again into the world. Her destruction was annoying and inconvenient for them--but it held no real terror.

These things might not be terrified of her in the sense a human would be--but now they were scared of her and SATTVA, there were a lot of them!

The Weatherthrops hid in abject horror beneath the family wagon as the Unclean circled it. She had dismounted, leaving her steed to protect the girls and waded into them.

At first she had slain two with no effort: they had ignored her as she fell upon them. Even as she clove into one, the other regarded its fellow with shock and surprise. She knew what was happening--but her advantage was reduced when she struck the second, again cutting into so hard that its skull exploded.

They were on her then. They couldn't SEE her--could not SMELL her--but they were not stupid, and they knew something dangerous was among them.

"Where are you, boy?" hissed one of them, its tail poised ready to strike. "What manner of art are you using?" Its voice was soft and malevolent. "I will find you and I will take your bottom until your anus prolapses around my sting!"

She killed it.

When she did another lept, using the death of its fellow to target her. It was a slightly clever plan, but she killed it too, and rolled providing a deceptive location for the next one to attack. Her blade sliced off one of its legs.

The joy of battle sang in her--she would slaughter them. In the name of Sattva and order, she would slaughter them all!

The other wagon had been encircled by them. They'd toyed with the older farmer, ripping his clothes and terrifying him--but they had not stung or devoured him. At least not yet. He wasn't dirty enough to be delicious to them.

The Weatherthrop daughters, though, would be a TREAT. He hid with the family beneath their wagon, staring in perhaps more or different terror at her. She'd seen that on campaign: when she fought where men could see, they sometimes treated her as more a monster than the Unclean. The wrong sort of man--a common sort, unfortunately, would deeply resent her power and that, combined with fear, would make them angry--enraged at her..

She didn't care. If the farmer she saved disrespected her, she'd have him punished. Possibly jailed for a moon. They would accept her authority and submit to it. She walked back. The ground was littered with the things. Maybe 12 of them? If there were that many, she worried for Kalvan. These were the sorts of Unclean that, if the got you, you might be lost in.

If she didn't have to save the family, she would have gone back for him then and there--but she wouldn't abandon them.

Mrs. Weatherthrop was the first from under the carriage, the girls shifting from her to their father. The woman's eyes shone in the moonlight with gratitude and, the Dame Knight guessed, awe.

"I had never--never imagined," the woman breathed, her voice seemingly having fled her. "I did not know people could fight like that," she managed. "That it was even possible, my Mistress."

"A few of us can," she said, not stopping her scanning of the hills. "The farmer will accompany us. We need to make better time!"

"He was in the company of my niece," the woman said hurriedly. "I think, anyway. They were traveling with him and taken by... unusual men--kidnapped off the road by them."

Dame Listily fixed the woman with a look. Then she strode to the wagon and knelt down. The girls, Jasob, and the farmer all huddled together. "You may come out," she said. "They are all dealt with."

She could see that didn't precisely comfort the men--but the girls seemed brave enough to crawl out to join their mother.

She reached a gauntleted hand under the carriage to draw out the farmer. His clothes hung in rags and his skin bore lines of welts where the claws had lashed him.

"You had two young women with you?" She demanded.

"Y-yes, your--dame knight," he stammered. "Men--wealthy I judge--and in a mechanical contraption breathing smoke from its pipes. They were looking for them, they were. Took them both. I don't think they had good intentions."

Mrs. Weatherthrop: "The description matched that of the governess and my niece Dame Knight. I've no idea why wealthy... bandits... might want of them."

"I neither," said Listily. "But I deeply mislike this set of occurrences." She turned to the farmer. "Can you estimate where they may have been taken? The closest home that could be used as a stronghold?"

The farmer hugged himself--the claw lashes hurt! "There is Wayford House," decided. "An old manor. A right estate. Stone walls. The family what built it is no longer about--but it stands and has been owned by city folk at times."

"Where?" asked the knight.

"A league thus," gestured the farmer.

"We will go there," stated the Dame Knight. "I wish to meet these men with a mechanical contraption who have taken two girls off the road in my riding. Whatever coincidence is at work here, I have questions for them."

The wagon turned and set off down the overgrown path the farmer had indicated. The Judgment Moon seemed even larger and more ominous.

THE JUDGEMENT MOON - KALVAN

Kalvan crawled from the body of the thing. He felt like the directions of things had shifted around him: he'd clambered through its moist internal throat or... well, channel. He'd seen the ghostly light from within it--but when he reached what he expected to be its "belly" where Heather had lain, moaning, he had, instead, exited the belly mouth of the thing, crawling onto a shining, dusty ground. He didn't see Heather and he must somehow have gotten turned around--GREAT SATTVA!! OHHH!

Kalan moaned as a wave of disorientation and terror crash through him. He was on all fours, covered in mucous and, no--not saliva--lubrication. He smelled like he was utterly doused a girl's fluid--and, ohh--

The surrounding ground was no longer the moorlands. It was a dull, silvery desert, luminous and bleak. There were mountain ranges and enormous sink-holes--some stretched what looked like for leagues around him.

Above him, as though reflected in a polished metal ball, was The Land. He could see the dark clouds over the moorlands. The lights--the lights of DunnisUrom! Great Sattva, the Western Wood as a dark stain, twisted and distorted by the warped perspective of the sky!

Had he not been on his knees, he would have fallen. He pressed himself into the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, and moaned in terror. After a time of his fingers gripping the rocks about him, and his failure to "fall," screaming, into the sky, he allowed his eyes to open.

Closer than the ring of mountain ranges that covered the horizon in every direction were structures. They were stepped pyramids whose size and distance were hard to determine. They seemed composed of the same luminous rock that shone a sliver light over everything.

He could see wide flat lanes--roads, perhaps, with raised platforms and statues along their sides. They reminded him of pictures he had seen of the grand boulevards of the past glory of the Imperial city of Nome.

The statues were women and men, uniformly naked and of the same silvery material. Middle fingers lay against the girl's clitoris, obscenely in mid-stroke, or hands wrapped around stiffened cocks. A statue of a woman squatted, holding the shaft of a phallus mostly inserted into her vagina. A boy used a tool like the one the punishment mistress had used on him, inserting a rod into the tip of his cock.

These tableaus of masterbation were obscene and detailed. The statues--the statues could have been 20' in height. Towering.

The world was in perfect silence. He recovered his sword and tapped it against a rock, relieved to hear noise. There was no wind at all and the air--the air was neither warm nor cold. He felt no sense of temperature. Everything had a dream-like empty quality to it.

Where was Heather!? He needed to get her and get out of this place! From what he could see, she had appeared unable to walk. He'd been reasonably close behind him. The shaft had closed around him somewhat, causing him to lose sight of her--but Sattva! She couldn't be far!

He looked back at the Unclean. Its body had deflated entirely, now appearing like a limp rug on the uncanny surface. He suddenly wondered if he could get back out through it--back to the land?

He almost called out for Heather--although for reasons he couldn't explain, that felt like a terrible idea--but he caught sight of stains and a trail in the fine dust that covered everything.

He was not an immensely skilled tracker, but this was unlike any ground he'd ever seen. He squatted down. The fluid had a bad sexual smell to it. The track? He thought it appeared someone had been dragged--towards one of the boulevards. Foo.

He set off.

He had realized the things couldn't exactly see him. He had come down the stairs and found one sniffing about the house. It licked the chair where he had sat. It sniffed at the rack on the wall that had contained the paddles. He'd stood frozen and then dived to hide as the thing, unnaturally flexible, squirmed around the room almost like a sea creature, like an eel more than a feline animal. To his horror, another one slunk in from the kitchen.

One of them turned its head and luminous eyes scanning and he dove for cover behind one of the small tables. He'd landed and come up, kneeling, with his sword gripped with both hands. The thing had lept, bounding to where he'd been standing, sniffing the air. It hadn't seen him! He'd slowly stood, preparing to strike, when it simply disappeared up the stairs with a swish of its tail. Heather!

He'd raced to catch it when the other one lept for him. He'd turned, slashing wildly, and barely scored a cut along its shoulder--one of its shoulders--as it flashed by him! It let out a yelp and turned on the staircase, its vast eyes alight with green malice!

It was blocking his path up! It sniffed.

"I smell a filthy little caged cock," It snarled softly. He was right in front of it! Couldn't it see him?

"I'm going to take your dirty anus, boy," It purred. "I'll sting you there until you need diapers for years!"

He'd grimaced--but--it was looking right at him. It looked away. It... couldn't...see him? They stayed like that for moments? Minutes? He could hear creaking upstairs. Did its companion have Heather?

It stepped off the stair, but slowly and slashed out with one of its claws where he'd been. Its huge pink tongue slithered out and licked the ground.

"Come on, boy," It taunted, "I'll take your cock in my tongue, get that nasty cage off you and draw your cock until its so stiff you'll wish it'd burst!" He edged to the side--if he could get past it?

It snapped around at him and he struck at it. This time he stabbed into its nose and again it yowled in surprise and pain.

"THERE YOU ARE," It rasped. Using one hand on the blade and one on the hilt, he drove his sword into its eye. He'd bounded up the stairs.

Now he walked down the boulevard between the obscene statues. The perspective was off: The statues, now that he was amongst him, seemed more like 40 feet or a hundred feet than they had from where he started.

The boulevard ended in a plaza with one of the huge stepped-pyramids looming across it. It was huge here, reaching up to the sky, not that there was a sky, and behind him the avenue seemed to stretch for miles. The sense of desolation was intense and vast but the feeling of threat was dominant. He crouched and looked behind him and to the sides. If the beasts had trouble seeing him, what if there were things here he couldn't see?

Signs of Heather being dragged led to a colonnade of arches--wide at the bottom and becoming thinner until the top where they joined was almost invisible against the sprawling horizon-to-horizon view of The Land. The vast structures rose around him, pale and glowing. The absolute silence was eerie. How had she been taken so far, so quickly? A raised block, about a measure high, had things that looked like trees with the trunk branching and spreading in sharp crystalline ways and what looked like thin panes of glass instead of leaves.

A line of benches of white stone lined one side of the street and he could see pillories of a pale white wood with posts behind them. From the posts hung many-tailed floggers at varying heights. It looked to him like they could spin, subjecting the occupant to a blur of punishing lashes.

A white fountain in the center of an empty plaza bore the form of a woman standing spread legged, her hands atop her head. Water splashed down from her sex in a constant gush. There were writing desks in rows before it. From a distance, he heard nothing from the water--but as he passed it, he could hear the splash. He was struck with a powerful need to urinate.

He hurried off to the side, huddled by a low wall and got his trousers down, squatting. As he did so, he noticed a puddle in the street where Heather had been taken. He gasped with relief. The relief flooded him and he was glad the entire white city seemed deserted. Had seemed--He looked up and saw movement at the far end of the avenue he was on. Due to the strange perspective, it could be close, but it appeared to be miles long. He stood, drawing his pants up, and immediately, his bladder complained--it was painfully full!

He gasped and dropped back down, urinating on the ground. It was an animal--an elephant, if he knew the beast correctly. Ponderous and with a strange blue-gray skin, it walked on four long and incredibly thin legs. It had tusks that, even from this distance, he could see were decorated with gold, and a palanquin on top in different shades of violet cloths and golden tassels. It rested on a quilt covering the beast's back that looked intricate and glowed with colors of all times and designs he could barely understand.

He shuffled to the side of the bench, looking for a hiding place. Whoever was on top, it hardly seemed likely they would spot him down here--but when he tried to stand, the sound of the fountain seemed to take hold of him! Ugh! Even squatting, the soft sounds of the waterfall carried whatever Art was used in making it, and he squirmed uncomfortably. Anyone sat before it in those chairs would be tormented!

He crawled quickly to where there was a break in the low stone wall and three steps up to the raised level of the courtyard. He didn't want to approach the fountain--but behind it seemed to be the only good place to hide!

The elephant thing, on its spindly legs was closing at an enormous rate, getting larger and larger with each passing moment. SATTVA! It was almost on top of him. He gave up trying to crawl away and hide and, instead, bolted across the street, fastening his trousers as he ran. On the other side of the boulevard was another low stone wall and behind that two smaller step-pyramids with a connecting building between them. Even these smaller ones appeared some 10-stories high! He vaulted the wall and pelted towards the structures looking for doors.

Around them, the white stone was cut in regular squares that had benches set regularly around them and some of the odd, pale, crystalline trees. On the other side of the street, he could no longer hear the fountain--but he still had to pee badly. He heard a high-pitched feminine laugh from the air above him and he spun.

The elephant was there. It's body, big as a house. It's four feet, each no larger than Kalvan's wrist in some places or the size of a saucer at the bottom. He could see a pale figure looking down from the covered house strapped to the top. She was laughing at him, her voice high and with a note like wind-chimes mixed with it. He flattened himself against the wall, glaring up at her. He brandished the sword. If Sattva's laws still applied here and she wasn't an Unclean, he couldn't kill her with it--but he could poke her pretty good.

Another peal of laughter and giggles. She appeared to be covering her mouth. He had to pee fiercely, but for now, he stood his ground. The elephant, from its great height, looked down at him with narrowed, intelligent eyes.