When he was done, he said, “An
ye be knowin’ why I be helpin’ that mermaid?”
I sighed, knowing what was coming.
“Why?”
“Because her name was
Marrrrrrr-tha!” He slapped his knee and laughed uproariously while I
rolled my eyes. At least I still had the freedom to do that much!
Eventually, he stopped chortling,
and his expression turned serious. “Yer companions be askin’ about ye.
Tell me truly, be they acceptin’ if ye be sayin’ goodbye when we be goin’
ashore?”
“Yes,” I said, and doubled
over in agony. “No,” I admitted a second later, and relaxed into the
pleasure. Shit shit shit shit shit!
Milos grin returned. “Then I be
tellin’ them ye be restin’ here for yer stomach. If they be visitin’, ye be
tellin’ them the same, savvy? Lie if ye be needin’ to, but make sure they be
stayin’ ‘til they be havin’ th’ certainty ye be safe and free.”
I sighed while I worked out what the
hell he’d just said. “Yes…” I said finally, as reluctantly as
possible given the pleasure of obedience flowing through me.
“Good girl.” He turned to
leave the room, then turned back. “Get dressed,” he ordered, and then
left.
I pulled my clothes back on, which
felt wonderful, of course, and then curled up on the floor, trying not to think
about escape or revenge. Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Iason
and Iola entered. By that time I had a throbbing headache thanks to repeated
bursts of pain–look, not thinking about things is hard, all right!
Especially things like escape and revenge and making the puns stop forever when
you’re in a trap!
“Hey Lemma,” said Iason.
“Wow, you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I groaned.
“I’m sick. What’s your excuse?”
He sighed. “You are
sick, that was not your A-game.”
“What’s that on your
head?” Iola asked.
My hand went to the circlet. Fuck!
“Uh… nothing. Just something to help with the seasickness.” I
shivered with pleasure as I obediently lied to my friends.
“Really?” asked Iason.
“Neat.”
Iola’s eyes narrowed. “Why
didn’t you use it before?”
“Um, the captain gave it to
me,” I said, struggling not to moan.
“I wonder where the captain got
it?” Iason studied me a moment. “Is something else wrong, Lemma? You
look… funny.”
“I’m fine,” I said
hastily. “I mean I’m sick!” Fuck this feels good! “But
otherwise I’m fine.” I couldn’t help it, a little moan just slipped out of
me.
“You don’t look sick,”
Iola said. “Frankly, you look–oh. Oh, I thought I saw you eyeing
him before!”
Iason looked puzzled a moment, then
understanding dawned. “You mean–you and Milos, Lemma?”
“Nononono,” I said
hastily, flushing with pleasure. “I’m seasick!”
Iason smiled. “You don’t have
to be shy! It’s okay to have a little fun on a sea voyage, we’ve all done
it.”
“It’s not that,” I said,
realizing how unconvincing I sounded. “I’m really sick!”
Iola laughed. “C’mon, Iason,
let’s leave Lemma to her little love nest.” They both turned to go. I was
going to fail! It was going to hurt!
There was only one thing I could do.
At this range, with his back turned, it has easy, even with his dragonscale
armor–I hit Iason on the back of his uncovered head with a sleep spell, and he
crumpled instantly.
“What the!?” shouted Iola,
whirling to face me and jumping backwards in the same motion. But that was the
wrong move. If she’d jumped toward me and punched me in the face or something,
she might have stopped me, but she moved away. I had plenty of time to
hit her with a second sleep spell, and she joined her brother on the floor.
Fuck, that felt good.
(To be continued…)
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