Thank you for reading this far in the Chronicles of the Midlands. Last chapter was Chapter 25.
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Laun could tell she was in a yurlodge, tied and blindfolded. She hurt and knew she had been roughly handled after she had gone into the greyness, the stone floor under her not as smooth as one might think as it put pressure on her hip and shoulder. She had been able to stay still when she woke, the men she could hear talking among themselves, though it was frustrating as they were speaking a mixture of languages and she caught one or two words as she lay there, but not enough to know what their intentions were.
She tried not to smile. She was bound and blindfolded, the bruises on her arms hurting under the rope, her head hurting from whatever they had forced her to drink. She could hear the desert wind against the canvas of the yurlodge, the scuttling of a small animal close to her on the stone floor. She could smell her own blood, but above that, flowers and men.
The remainder of her male disguise was ripped and bunched on her. Sweat was soaking the padding around her middle, but that had been a problem even before she had been captured. The glue that had held the whiskers on had pulled and torn her skin when they had started to fight her, pulling on her beard, finding that it was not real. Then finding she was not a man. Laun was happy she had cut her hair to helmet length, the shortness keeping them from dragging her around by her scalp. Not that it kept them from beating on her before they had forced the drug into her. She did get in some good shots before they had subdued her.
She should not have followed him. She should have waited for Velma to deliver the messages. Her mind was clearing as she lay there, thinking of the track and trace she had done on someone who seemed to be a potential assassin. He had looked like someone from Myrned, possibly another of Red's people. She had not given him enough lead when following through the Estates’ servants corridors, and then into the wall ways. She had not been in that part before and had gone from the dark enclosed hidden passage to a door into the surrounding gardens. It had been bright, and she had come into a group of...perhaps five men. She had surprised them, but that did not save her.
She felt her forehead bunch the fabric over her eyes and tried to relax. They should have killed her, she expected them to kill her, especially when they found she was not a man. That confused her.
Laun heard them moving. There was laughter as several of them moved towards her. She stayed limp, keeping her eyes closed under the blindfold. One of them nudged her with a foot, saying something that the others laughed at. Laun had been able to understand one word, one that she could recognize in any language. Whore.
Part of her mind stepped back and started to translate more, even as she felt hands on her. They were from Myrned. They had been sent by yet another pretender, mentioning that he was waiting close by for the signal. That he would be disappointed for missing such a treat. One of the slippery Midlanders, a hidden woman.
The ropes were pulled on and Laun could not help but moan as her arms were forced into an angle that hurt, and threatened to pull her old shoulder injury out. There was another round of laughter. Laun still did not know why they hadn't killed her, though having her there to do with as they will...
A knife was on her skin. It was dragged along her skin, cutting her and her clothes from the torn pants cuff up. It stung and Laun allowed herself to move a little, but as if she were still under the drugs. The fabric was roughly pulled and torn until they were able to get to the padding she still had around her waist to make her form more masculine. There were a few confused noises from them, but Laun knew they were going to just cut it off. She felt the steel against her skin, the blade being pulled away from her to get though the layers. There was enough force that she was lifted from the floor, landing again on her hip when the knife did its job and exposed more of her. She felt cold as the sweat that had been on her skin and in the padding cooling while evaporating into the dessert air.
He was working from the bottom up. He reached the wrappings keeping her breasts in and the sting of the blade was almost too much to just lay through. Laun's reactions were there, held in, but there was laughter and she could hear them wondering if she was awake after having the drug. She heard negative sounds and words, catching that it was enough to put a horse out for a day.
Then there was silence. It wasn't the piercings. Laun knew that they had uncovered the Peach flower. There was a low swear from one of them standing over her.
“Dama pechere?” There was more swearing and then one of them laughed. She could almost understand him with the words she understood and the tone as she translated, “Anyone want a bite of that flesh?” Laun could not understand the next few exchanges, but she again had to suppress a smile.
It had given them pause. It had not stopped them, and Laun did not think she would have paused if she had been doing the same to one of her victims, finding it was perhaps Kurti or one of the gold bells under the Bell masters. They still did not know she was awake, and that was an advantage she was still trying to keep.
They had undone the ropes around her legs to be able to pull the clothing off of her. She was pushed and pulled to be on her back as they cut the rest of her ragged clothing off. More words about her title and then about her body came through the only piece of fabric still on her before she felt the first man kneel between her legs.
She had been expecting it. He pushed himself into her and swore. He moved around and then pulled out, saying something about the stone being too hard. And then Laun had to still her smile as another of the men said, "unlike your cock," plain to translate for her and the laughter was companionable.
They tried to move her. She had been able to learn how to be a rock, part of the ground, and used her limpness to advantage, moving slightly as they pulled on her to make it hard to move her. They rolled her onto her front and cut her arms free so that they could get a better hold on her. Laun stopped fighting them and they were able to drag her to the bed in the yurlodge.
She must have been in the rope for at least two hours. She could not feel her hands when they flopped down next to her. Then, as the man entered her again, the fire of blood flow started. She moaned, the men thinking it was because of the cock in her and laughing. He lasted longer than Laun had expected, having seen men forcing others, being egged on by their gang, and stroking only a few times before peaking. If it had been a different circumstance, Laun would have reveled in his performance.
There was the quickening of his strokes, swearing and growling coming from him before he... Pulled out. They were military. Myrned military. He was doing the bragging lines of seed on her, appreciative noises from those around him confirming for Laun before the next man was in her.
Laun lay there, trying not to move as the men used her, trying not to show the excitement they were bringing her. It was just a fuck. She knew she was being raped, but to her, the pain and the sex separated. She thought of Myrned, of the military she had seen, the one government official, other than the ambassador, she had met. They were a different country, ruling from an elected government, not a royal inherited leadership. The Secret Keepers were the ones that kept the law, in and out of the grey. The governor she had met had been a politician. Pure and simple.
The third man was moving into position, the others sounding either tired or bored. She remembered there being five in the garden, but she could recognize perhaps four different voices in the yurlodge. Laun was moved slightly, her butt going up onto his thighs to make a better angle for him. It allowed her to move her arms slightly, the fire in her hands lessening, her fingertips falling onto the mans pants. Not leather. It was some of the lighter fabric that was good in the high dessert.
The angle was good for her, too. She could not hold back what her body was feeling. Her breath started to match his strokes, a gasp bringing his attention to the woman he was fucking. He moved, putting his hands on either side of her head, moving the fabric on her face slightly before leaning in, curling her up to get to her mouth.
He kissed her. Deeply. She panted into his mouth, her tongue dancing with his. She started to growl as he did, Laun hearing one of the other men saying something about being able to wake the dead.
He slowed down as she came to her peak on him. His mouth stayed on hers, keeping her curled up as he held himself in her. She relaxed, trying to go limp again, but he was not even close to being done. There was laughter and some comments from the other men as the soldier inside of her had a steady rhythm, Launs body working towards another orgasm as she opened her eyes unintentionally.
The blindfold had enough of a gap that she was able to see some of the room, and the men around her. The yurlodge was some sort of a potting shed, the flowers she could smell potted in large earthen pots in ranks around them. The men were dressed as workers. Laun could not help but smile as the thought that none of the people at the Royal Estate were whom they seemed to be.
The man in Laun grunted and pushed his mouth onto hers to quiet what would have been a loud shout as the first of his peak went through him. He pulled out and Laun could feel the hot, wet seed slide down her womanhood and knew he had not spent himself completely outside of her. He was panting into her neck, trying to get his breath under control as Laun felt his cock throb against her.
One of the others said something and Laun saw a hand come towards her, aiming for the man’s shoulder. Laun could tell that the next one wanted his turn. He was not to have his turn as the man on Laun reached down, fumbling a little, and pushed himself back in, as hard as he had been before he had peaked. There was swearing, but there was also laughter, Laun catching something she heard as, “Two-mount is at it again!”
He laughed as he stroked into her, lessening his weight on her. He was not exactly tender, but he was gentler than he had been for his first round. She heard his breath catch as he felt how close she was to another orgasm. He moved her a little, untying the cloth from around her face and bringing her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes flickered open and she saw that he was intent on her, smiling at her noises and movements.
“Dama Pechere, gracias.” He smiled as her eyes stayed slitted open, her moans becoming fully voiced as they both were almost at the edge of their peaks. She grasped at his loose pants as her first contraction went through her, pulling at him to try to bring him even deeper. She saw him grit his teeth, close his eyes and his head went down. A strained noise came out of him as they orgasmed together, his cum going deep into her and not being the stripe most of the military men did as they shared a doxy.
He was being held up by her legs. Laun could feel him tremble against her. He stroked along her side and gripped her leg as he stayed there, breathing heavily. Laun had closed her eyes again, but she knew that any semblance of a drug induced torpor was shattered. There was laughter from the others as Laun moved her hips, the motion making him suck in what breath he had and pushing back into her slick womanhood. He swore, but he did not pull out, his cock moving in their mingled juices as Laun let her body ask for more in a language all men could understand.
The fourth she had heard was in process of stripping his pants off while moving through the plants to the rough bed. There was something said and Laun had his cockhead pressed to her lips. She was expecting something foul, but he was a good solider and kept himself clean. She let him press into her mouth and started to lick around the cut head as the man in her proved he was up to the challenge that her body was giving him.
Laun had tried to not use her hands as she lay there. She let them flop around as she was repositioned, touching things to feel the men and their belongings. When she had peaked, that had changed. The man in her moved her around again and took one of her hands, twining his fingers with hers, holding her hand down as he moved in her. Her other hand went up and touched the leg of the man who was in her mouth. One of his hands went to her head to encourage her, the other to her touch on his thigh.
They were all sweating, Laun getting small droplets hitting her as the men moved above her. The smell of sex and men was strong in the yurlodge, the blooming plants not being able to compete. Laun felt free enough to move on her own, changing her head’s position and pulling that man into her mouth more as her hips matched and forced the rhythm of the man in her. The saltiness of the Myrned soldier’s cock became strong, the nectar that came out before he started to moan telling Laun that it would not be long.
Laun looked up into his eyes and saw that he was watching her. Laun moved her hand and cupped his balls, squeezing lightly. That did it for him and she saw his eyes flutter and close tight before he leaned forward, almost knocking the man in Laun to the side. Laun was able to take a breath before the first burst of the man’s seed went into her mouth. He pulled out, almost reluctantly, and her face was being striped with the rest of his orgasm.
Laun had to keep her eyes closed to keep the viscus fluid from blinding her. There was a sharp word from the man in her before the gasping man she had just tasted scrambled to get a cloth to wipe Laun with. What was found and used was softer than the burlap that was around the roots of some of the plants in the dug-in yurlodge, but not by much. Laun smiled at the man and held her hand out to him, getting a light grasp from him before he smiled and pulled away.
Her mind was still working through the pleasure. The man in her was the officer, or at least the one in charge. Possibly noble born because of his reluctance to do the full stripe counting the other men had done. Laun smiled as she thought of the lasting performance of the man, hoping she would not have to kill him and perhaps inviting him to Salam-Dir to be shared with the other women.
Laun’s smile turned to the man on top of her. He had runnels of sweat coming down his tan face and chest, the worker’s clothing soaking it up and not as quickly evaporating as it had been. Being able to concentrate on just him again, Laun planted her feet on the rough bed and started to move with and against him to bring them both more pleasure.
He sucked in his breath and called out,”Dioses!” There was laughter from the others as he looked Laun in the eyes and stuttered out, “Ella va chupar me seco - que el desierto!” There was more laughter and he smiled widely down at Laun.
Laun’s mind was not translating, but it seemed to spur him on. Her hand went up him, feeling the slickness of the clothing as her fingers went past and found his nipples. There was a wince on his face as she fingered the dark patches, one of the tiny nipples reacting to her touch by trying to hide in the wrinkles. Laun moved her hand, thinking it was painful to him, but he moved his hand holding hers up to his chest and nodded.
He changed his strokes as she played with his nipples and chest. He really seemed to like the touch and was reveling in it. Laun pulled on the split tunic and vest and he understood, stripping it off and onto the stone floor. He pulled out, with a gasp, and pulled on his pants, being naked for the long session as he had been clothed for the rape before. He called over his shoulder for some water, getting a grumble but a tankard handed to him. The soldier who took back the tankard had a half-smile as he looked at the empty vessel and headed out into the hot day to where the water barrel was.
Laun pulled herself up further on the bed made of sacks and a few pillows. She felt how her body had thrown off all of the drug, her mind was sharp, and her drive had not been sated, yet. She found a slightly softer area and draped herself over one of the pillows, wishing she had her hair as she beckoned to the naked man. She liked what she saw and wanted to use him as much as he was using her.
He paused, looking at how she moved as she settled on the bed. He smiled and took her offered hand as he lay next to her. Laun looked for the harshness, the grit of a soldier in him, but it was not there. He was young, perhaps only twenty, and looked at her not with the eyes of someone who had started out by forcing her, but as someone who was almost nervous to be naked next to a woman.
Hands started to explore, both of them touching the slick body next to them. Laun kept her hands away from his pulsing manhood and found that he had not gone down at all when she glanced down. She licked her lips and felt the edge of some of the lingering glue, bringing her hand up to her face and feeling suddenly self-conscious. He smiled and took ahold of her hand, bringing it to his lips.
“Carino...” He seemed to be shocked at what he said. He took in a few shallow breaths and looked over his shoulder at the other men in the yurlodge. The two were talking low amongst themselves and not really paying attention. He looked back at Laun and she saw how young he really was. Her hand slipped on his sweat to his chest above his heart, bringing his hand with hers. He smiled and pressed her hand into his chest above his heart before tenderly kissing her.
He was holding her, pressing his body into hers without entering her again. They lay side by side, the pillow supporting them as he trailed his fingers over her skin. It was almost too hot in the yurlodge, but a small tickle of dry outside air passed by, not cooling but letting some of the sweat evaporate as it went. Laun smiled into his kiss and felt him pull back.
There were some whispers from him that she did not catch, seeing the earnest way his eyes were looking into hers. She pulled her eyebrows together and shook her head slightly. He kissed her again and pulled on her to roll her on top of him. His manhood was hard between them, but he held her to him, pressing his face to her neck.
His breath sighed against her before he whispered, “Peach, I will try to keep you from harm.”
It was in Midlands’ tongue. Laun nodded against him and felt him sigh.
She reached between them and felt him tense as he entered her. She lay against him, not moving for a moment, the sting of their sweat flaring in the small cuts from her disguise being cut off. He arched his back, drawing out of her, his hands going to her back, keeping her against him as he thrust up into her. She steadied herself and paced her own movements to match his, feeling that he was going to be able to keep it up for quite a while.
There was a knock on the outside of the yurlodge and one of the men went to see what it was. Laun wanted to sit up and look, but the man’s arms were strong around her. There were some low voices and a flash of outside light as he went into the day’s heat. There were other low voices, but they seemed to distance themselves from the outbuilding, letting Laun concentrate on the man below her.
He was whispering things into her neck. Laun pushed her tired hips to move and she heard him gasp. She could feel his fingernails start to dig into her skin on her back, his thrusts having more power to them. Her fingertips ran up and down his sides where she could reach, until she moved and was able to grasp him by the back of the neck. There was a growl from low in his throat as his hands went from her back to her ass, his grip encouraging her to speed up just a little more.
She felt him start to peak. She said little encouragements into his ear and heard him gasp trying to hold in the shout he wanted to let out. She moved on him until he held her still.
Laun moved and sat up on him, a groan coming from him, but a very tired smile on his face. A slow, “ ... gracias ...” came from him as the air tried to take moisture from them into the over-saturated, humid yurlodge. His performance was over and she could feel him slipping out of her, the wetness hardly adding much more to the slickness that was covering both of them.
Laun glanced over and saw the only other man in the outbuilding nodding off as he sat against a bench holding some of the smaller plants waiting to be transplanted outside. She slid off of the man below her and settled next to him, feeling him fall into sleep quickly. She felt the draw of exhaustion try to drag her down, too, but she couldn’t. Not quite yet.
She waited until she felt a snore from the Myrned man beside her before she moved. She was quick and he did not react as she was off the bed and almost to the door before the other man stirred. She did not stop as she stumbled up the stone stairs, through the canvas and wood door and into the late Afternoon sun. She was blinded for a moment and struck out at a figure that was there, but did not actually hit.
“Laun-!”
She stopped and shaded her eyes. It was Edgar standing there, his hands up to defend himself. She threw himself into him and sobbed.
There was a commotion behind her that she ignored. The last man had followed her out to be pounced on by several of the Peaches, to be dragged off by several of the Royal Estate guards. Laun did not care. She had her Love and Family again.
A thin robe was over her, tender touches from her people letting her know they were there. She pressed her face up and found she was in a tight embrace and deep kiss with her Lord. His hands went up and grasped her head through her helmet length hair, sliding on her sweat, pulling her in firmly. It was right.
It took a few moments to have Laun center herself, a couple of small comments about her fighting her way out with her redscarf making her blush slightly. She turned to the door into the yurlodge and smiled.
A snort came out of the sleeping man as Laun ran her hand over his chest. He smiled at her and took the tankard of water she presented to him. He drank, both the water and her eyes, as he looked steadily at her. Then his eye caught on a movement and flicked to focus on something behind her. He did not drop the tankard, but the shock of being surrounded as he was made him cold in the heat of the outbuilding.
Laun took back the tankard and sipped on it herself. “Thank you for the afternoon. You were worth being captured.”
He looked back at her and saw that she was as unafraid and calm as she had been all through the sex. She was wearing a thin robe and nothing else, patches of the fake beard still clinging to her chin, but undeniably a woman.
“Dama... Peach. Please don’t kill me.”
There was laughter. Laun touched his chest delicately and stroked above his heart. “I see no need to do that. As long as you tell me who you are here to help take the Blue title.”
He scrunched his eyebrows a little and then nodded. He pushed himself more to a sitting position and touched Laun’s hand on his chest. “My Uncle, Emisario VerdeFel.” He seemed to become slightly shy with the others around him and turned slightly to Laun before saying in a low voice, “I am Bene, Mistress Peach.”
Laun nodded and leaned forward, kissing him lightly. She saw the panic in his eyes as she pulled back. “Thank you, Bene. I will see what I can do about having them go light on you.” She sat back and saw him tense. “I might have to ask to punish you myself. I am not sure either of us would survive more than a few more rounds like that, though.”
He blushed and let his head dip slightly. “Thank you, Dama.”
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