The Wicked Tower - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“A good morning to you.” Tes-amen smiled at the young Tullius woman. “Have you recovered yet from your trip across the Inland Sea? They say the first trip can be —”

“This is how I always walk, Tes-amen.” Naevia turned on the viscount’s man with fiery eyes. Was she so bowlegged from her time with Vel that everyone noticed? She unconsciously put her hand on the pocket that hid Dellia’s sealed message. “I am affronted that you would comment on the appearance of a lady, a duke’s sister no less.”

“My humble apologies.” Tes-amen bowed low. The way the little, pale thing looked at him he would not have been surprised had she removed the bow from around her shoulder and stuck him with an arrow. He looked around to avoid her eyes. “I made no allusion to your appearance, Lady Tullius.” This was true, he hadn’t any idea what she was talking about.

They stood where the hall curved out by a veranda. This stretch of corridor was open to the elements and boasted a view over most of the city. He saw his opportunity to change the subject. He pointed out over Kart Hadasht. “Ever since last night it has grown. They say it pulled into it all the fallen stones, and now it is greedily taking masonry from nearby buildings. Swallowing the blocks up and spitting them back out on top to form higher and higher levels. It is as if the warlocks of old had returned.”

Naevia looked back down at her feet and was about to push past Tes-amen, when the strangeness of his words caught her. “What are you talking about?” She looked over at him. The rising sun in the east backlit the dark-skinned man, and it was hard for her to read his expression.

“Oh, forgive me, Lady. Have you not heard?” He pointed again out over the city with renewed emphasis. “You need only look over there. One of the relic towers has suddenly awoken, and it is rebuilding itself as we speak. We are truly living through a time of miracles.”

“We are?” Naevia followed his gaze out over the city. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the enormous column of stone climbing into the sky. She knew the old towers had been tall, but this stretched her mind’s ability to accept her eyes. “Is this some trick? Because I do not abide by foolery.” Truth was, Naevia enjoyed a bit of foolery, but she did not want this man laughing at her expense.

“It is all the palace is talking about.” Tes-amen watched as the young woman put her head back down and hurried past him. Such a strange lady. “I don’t know why I didn’t lead with it, rather than make those unfortunate comments.” He scratched his head as she vanished down the hall. “Very sorry about that.”

“Forget it happened.” She called over her shoulder. Naevia had been in quite a state on her errand to bring the sealed message to Vel. But to see what she had just seen nearly broke her brain. She was quite sure that the reanimated tower was the very same one she and her brother had spent the afternoon in the day before. It wasn’t coincidence. She had no idea what it was, but happenstance it was not.

---

“Could Princess Minicia not make the journey?” Cassia was not surprised the princess failed to join her regents. Few saw her at all these days. She remembered Fortinbras had said something about wanting to make her acquaintance. But Cassia didn’t know if her son had done so before he disappeared. He’d certainly not reported it to her.  

“Sadly, she caught cold and couldn’t make the journey. But she hopes she may yet travel for the wedding itself. Such a glorious union.” Queen Cesphea smiled over at Bantia and Hostus, the engaged couple sitting at the center of the table in the long hall. Cesphea’s black eyes lingered on Bantia’s slender neck, and the delicate clavicle exposed by her formal stola.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Bantia blushed when she caught the queen’s eye. “I find my future husband and the Gala family to be the perfect match.” She shivered. But she was unsure whether it was the uncommon chill in that great hall, or from the appraising eyes that fell on her.

“You are certainly matched in the quality of your stock, loyalty to the crown, and tranquil temperaments.” Tiberius leaned away from his wife, Queen Valeria, and moved conspiratorially closer to Bantia. He had a devilish twinkle in his eye. “But I wonder as to your match in the service of Venus. My queen hates when I state plain fact, but, Lady, you are a good deal taller than your lord.”

All the women around the table averted their eyes and blushed at the euphemism for sex. All, that is, but the queens regent and the sorceress Brynhild. Valeria looked like she might be cross with her husband. Brynhild and Cesphea both regarded the young couple with amused expressions.

Cassia cleared her throat. Normally, she would not tolerate crass talk. But when it came from the consort regent, she was forced to swallow it. “I’m sure Venus will bless them in their union and give them many children that we might further our houses through the generations.” She held up her wine goblet.

“Hear, hear. Hear, hear.” Murmured people around the table.

“Very fine words, Duchess.” Valeria smiled at her hostess. “I wonder, after lunch, would you mind if my sister and I wandered the castle a bit? We haven’t been here since our uncle was king and your husband was Duke.” She said it in a friendly manner, but a solemnity settled around the table. The mention of the former king and the former duke brought to mind reigns that ended before their time. A touchy subject when celebrating a new union.

“It would be wonderful to see the places we played as girls.” Cesphea put her left hand on her sister’s right hand.

Tiberius shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I would be happy to give you a tour.” Cassia forced a smile onto her face.

“Thank you for the offer, but we would prefer to keep our company to queens only,” Valeria said.

“Queens regent, you mean.” Bantia did not mean to let that out of her mouth, but the royal intrusion into her celebration had pushed her mood more than she’d realized.

“Bantia!” Cassia looked with disquieted eyes between her daughter and the queens regent. 

“No, it’s quite all right.” Cesphea smiled. “Titles can be so confusing sometimes. We are the queens regent, of course.”

---

When Naevia had first awoken Vel, his member was as hard as Uzze steel.

Vel found that his cock got harder still when his sister’s lovely face came into focus. But she had news and their games would have to wait. He softened as she showed him the message.

“I waited to open it. It’s still sealed.” Naevia held the scroll up.

“Whose pigeon did she send? Was it going to her home or ours?” Vel did not want to read the message, but knew they would have to. He admired his sister both for her aim with a bow and her bravery taking the bird right from under Dellia’s nose. He wouldn’t want to risk getting on his cousin’s bad side. He’d seen her angry before.

“I couldn’t tell. My arrow mangled the poor thing.”

“Well, let’s read it.” Vel sighed and looked at the scroll as his sister broke the seal. Spying on Dellia was not why they had braved the Inland Sea. The whole journey was turning sideways.

“Let’s see.” Naevia sat on the bed next to her brother and opened the scroll. “It’s coded.” There were a series of marks and tallies. “I know this. Don’t we know this, Vel?”

“Um …” Vel stared at the page completely befuddled.

“This is the code used for procurement in the old empire. Let me see. It’s been a while and I wasn’t really paying attention to those lessons.” Her finger scanned the lines trying to sort it out. “Can you bring me a something to write with?”

“That gets me thinking, Naevia.” Vel, still naked, threw back the sheets, stood, and walked over to his desk. He didn’t even consider how his state of undress might affect his sister. So much had changed between them in so little time. He scanned the desk. The viscount was kind enough to have supplied him with parchment, fine copper pens, and ink wells of the deepest black. He grabbed one of each and returned to bed. “What did the Vulpes do again? Before they were converted by the queens regent into spies.”

“They … um …” Naevia took the writing material from Vel and began scribbling her translation of the code. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. “They … supplied materiel for the army.”

“Yes, exactly.” Vel nodded. He sat quietly for the next half hour while Naevia worked on the code.

Eventually, she finished as best as she could. “Here, what do you make of this?”

Vel read his sister’s writing out loud, “Suspect truth. Rabbit burrows. Masked but seen. Await delivery carrots.” Vel put down the parchment and looked at his sister. “What the …?”

“I don’t know, maybe I decoded it wrong.” Naevia shrugged.

“The code has a code.” Vel looked over at his sister. “But whatever the meaning, something is wrong with our cousin. She secretly brings her husband. She follows us through the streets. She writes strange messages. We have to talk to her.”

“I am not going to confront Dellia. Leave that to Father.” Naevia’s palms went sweaty.

“Father already had his suspicions. He needs no further hints or gossip. He needs something concrete.” Vel stood, walked across the room, and picked up his tunic. He pulled it on. “We must talk to her first. Not to confront her, but to see if we might pry some information out of her. Let’s invite her to my chambers for lunch and see what she says. Maybe we will gather something stronger. Or maybe she will allay our fears.”

“I do not like it.” Naevia pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs.

“I do not like any of this. I wish Father would just tell us what he’s doing.”

“You don’t like any of it? Some of this voyage has met with your approbation I trust.” She looked up at him with mock servitude.

“I don’t like that which has to do with Dellia and Father.” Vel finished fastening his robes. “That which has to do with you, has given me more than I ever dreamed to wish for.” To counter the rise between his legs, Vel put Harpastum into his mind. The ball game countered thoughts of his sister’s supple flesh. “Let’s figure out what’s happening with Cousin Dellia, report to Father, and then sail home. I fear we are wearing out our welcome in this city.”

“Oh, gods. I forgot to tell you.” Naevia’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “One of the towers is rebuilding itself. I saw it with my own eyes.” She stood, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the window. She threw open the shutters and had him lean out so he could see the tower. “It reaches into the clouds.”

“Rebuilding itself?” Vel looked where she pointed. He’d never seen the like, it dwarfed even the new tower rising at the royal palace. “Naevia.” His voice was a whisper as he took in the sight. “Is that our tower? The one where we …?”

“I think so. Yes.” Naevia squeezed his hand.

“What does it mean?”

“I haven’t the faintest. But I do not love a coincidence.”

“Nor do I.” As Vel looked at the tower and thought back to the corkscrewed Blessed Tower rising at Accipiter Cubitum Palace, a thought occurred to him. Unlike that tower, this one wasn’t blurry. He could see it clearly. He scanned the city. He could see the whole city with its arching architecture quite clearly. In fact, he realized as he turned it over in his mind, his vision had been improved for some time now. Since about the time Brynhild had cursed him. What else had the sorceress done to him?

---

A slate sign hung on the door to the bath that said it was temporarily closed for cleaning. Brynhild tried the handle but it was locked. She knew very well who was cleaning in there. Merope thought herself clever, hiding behind the only door she had authority to lock. The story of the locked door was probably that they were giving the place a deep clean for royal guests, and didn’t want any of the royal party to wander in and be scandalized by the scullery servants at work.

Brynhild could find the Seneschal, Aulus, and get him to open the door. But then this would be a bigger production than she’d like. And she didn’t want to draw attention to herself with the queens wandering the castle. And also, she had to admit to herself, she didn’t want to wait. She had tried several summoning charms with her left hand since the dust had its influence on her. All had failed. But maybe the urgency of the moment would aid her magic.

Thinking back to days before sorcery began leaking from the world, she remembered how her mind would find the right pitch. Her thoughts worked up the scale and then focused on a select, clear note. The key to the lock. She could feel it in the lock just on the other side of the door. So close. She unwound that object in her mind, infusing it with her conjuring spell. Her left hand flicked and closed into a fist. She held it before her and unfurled her fingers. There was an iron key in her palm. It worked. “Well, now, pretty thing, you will not hide from me.” She whispered as she set the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung open.

There were two women working on the bath. Steam filled the air. The place looked clean enough without their work, but they must have their orders. They were so diligently scrubbing tiles that they did not see Brynhild enter. Merope was there. The other woman was a pretty thing, too. Brynhild watched her form as her butt swayed with her work. Best not to be greedy. Cassia wouldn’t notice when one servant goes missing from her work here and there. But if Brynhild took all the pretty ones into her bed, the duchess would eventually take umbrage. “Merope, I require your services.”

Both women froze at the sound of the unexpected voice.

“How did you get in, mistress?” Merope looked to the door. The key should have been on the inside of the lock, but it was on the outside. The sorceress had somehow pulled it through the door. This was a good deal more frightening than a floating ball of light. When the tall, pale woman didn’t respond, Merope looked back down at the gleaming tile below her. An average, frightened-looking woman of the Surround stared back at her in the reflection. What was so special about her that Brynhild had taken this interest? Her vagina gushed as she thought of how that interest had manifested itself over the past few days. “I … I … have to clean.” Merope stayed on her hands and knees.

“I can manage here on my own until your return, Merope.” The other servant said. She wanted the sorceress out of the bath as quickly as possible. Her presence made the woman uneasy.  

“No, no, I have to clean here. The duchess said – ow, owwwww.” Merope felt strong fingers twist her ear and pull her upright. The familiar warmth spread from her ear, through her head, and into her core as she stood.

“None of that, little marsh flower.” Brynhild moved her left hand under Merope’s dark hair, and gently held the bare skin on her delicate neck. “There’s a box that needs cleaning.” Brynhild turned to the other servant, who was staring at them, her mouth hanging open. “Carry on here by yourself, I’ll have her back to you in a few hours. Oh, and lock the door after we leave. We wouldn’t want one of the queens wandering in here before it was spotless.” Brynhild left the bath, shepherding Merope with one hand still on the back of her neck.

“Please. Nicias suspects something.” Merope’s mind drifted. She was on a knife’s edge between concern for her marriage and the growing hunger inside her. The heat pulsing through her was making it incredibly hard to think. “I can’t keep doing … the things we do together.” Such things that she never would have suspected existed before their affair had started.

“Shall we retire to my chamber today?” Brynhild squeezed Merope in a forceful but tender way. She could feel the small woman’s muscles relaxing. “Or, did you have a request for some other setting?”

“Please … please … I can’t wait to climb up there.” Merope gave in. “Let me taste you in the sanctum again. Let me …” Her voice trailed off as a pair of women, arm in arm, turned a corner in the hall ahead. A chill breeze blew past Merope and she trembled.

“Ah, sorceress.” Cesphea eyed the tall woman, ignoring the servant that walked before her. “Do you still care for the Tullius clan?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Brynhild stopped and curtsied. But she did not remove her left hand from Merope. Something told her that it was safer hidden under the servant’s lovely hair.

“You have changed. Haven’t you?” Valeria let out a little laugh and it was picked up by her sister. “You are not the woman we knew as girls.”

“Time has passed.” Brynhild could feel Merope’s steady pulse under her palm. She massaged the woman’s spine as she were a favorite dog. “It’s been many years.” She eyed the queens. They were beautiful, but also somewhat wild. Their patinaed copper crowns were tucked into their black hair like treasure peeking from the bottom of the sea.

“That is just the thing,” Cesphea said. “Years were not supposed to matter to you. You have lost all tricks except for that one gift. The talent that let you fight to overthrow the old empire, and yet stand before us a young woman, decades later.”

“As you say, Your Majesty.” Brynhild hated to do it, but she curtsied again. She needed to be done with this and what might the queens say if their focus turned to the smitten servant before them?

“And yet, though you try and disguise it, it is plain that your body is not the slender thing I remember.” Cesphea looked Brynhild up and down.

“That is so.” Valeria nodded her head in agreement.

“I … um … I …” Brynhild turned her gaze away from them, her cheeks hot.

“Given the chance, we’re all bound to let ourselves grow fat.” Valeria pulled her sister past Brynhild and Merope. “Your magic has left and it seems that you’ve put yourself out to pasture, sorceress.”

“Moo,” Cesphea called over her shoulder. “We’re happy that we have provided you land to graze in your remaining years. Remember our kindness.” The queens laughed and passed out of sight.

“Thank you, Your Majesties.” Brynhild turned away from the direction they’d gone. Warmth returned to the hall. “Come, Merope. I now need your skills more than ever.”

“What were they talking about, mistress?” Merope let herself be led down the hall. She was so wet now she could feel it on her legs.

“Their kind, and mine, were at one time competitors.” No longer willing to wait, Brynhild moved them into a run. “And maybe we will be that again someday.” She knew they looked ridiculous running through the castle, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “With those two lurking about, the temples will not work today. We must climb to my room.”

A little while later, sweaty from their run, their bodies were intertwined on Brynhild’s bed. Their hips moved rhythmically together. The young wife whimpered and moaned.

It was just as good as the sorceress hoped. She nearly forgot all about the queens and their casual affronts.

---

“These spices would be very good with lamb.” Dellia took the last bite of grilled crane and dropped her fork to her plate. She chewed thoughtfully as she regarded her cousins sitting on the other side of the small table in Vel’s chambers. She swallowed and cocked her head at them. “You two have barely touched your meal. Do the victuals on this side of the sea not agree with you?”

“We’re not hungry, I guess.” Naevia glanced at her brother.

“Well, that’s fine then. Maybe if you two got out more, you’d work up an appetite.” She took a swig of wine and smiled at them. “Well, to gather back around the question you left unanswered when we started this luncheon, have you heard from your father, then? We’ve traveled here, his kin, and we’re met with a ghost. Any news?”

“Nothing.” Vel shook his head. He looked back at Naevia sidelong. They had spent all afternoon with Dellia and gotten nowhere. Perhaps, Vel and Naevia were no good at spy work. Frustration mounted for both brother and sister.

“Strange tidings.” Dellia stood, retrieved her sword belt, and fastened it over her tunic. “Well, keep me in the know. I’m sure we’ll find him soon and figure out how to protect him.”

“Or we could just wait for the delivery of carrots.” It just came out of Vel’s mouth. Frustration had got the better of him. He felt his sister’s left hand slip into his right and grasp tight. Dellia stiffened when he said it, and slowly turned around.

“What is this about carrots?” Dellia took a slow step toward them.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke Vel and I have going about rabbits.” Naevia watched Dellia’s right hand creep toward the sword on her hip. “We’re cousins, Dellia. You’ve known us all our lives.” Pleading entered her voice.

“How did you read my letter?” Dellia eyed one cousin, and then the other.

“We –”

“Never mind that.” Dellia held up her hand to cut off Naevia. “That was a private letter to my father. Did you intercept it? Did it not get to him?” She took a deep breath and waited, but they did not answer. Dellia regarded the Tullius’s, huddled together like frightened kittens. “Shit. How in the underworld did you manage that?” She didn’t know what to do about this.

“Dellia, what’s going on? I am your duke and your family, take your hand off your sword.” Vel tried to lend some command to his voice.

“Let me think for a second.” Dellia turned from them, hand still on the pommel of her sword. What was the extent of their knowledge about this? Did they know her mission? She would have to interrogate them. And then? Well, she did love them and wished no harm upon them. The queens thought highly of Vel, after all. She would have them give up their father, and they would end up heroes before the crown. Everyone would win. Everyone but Gallio, that is. It was a good plan. “Now, young ones, you will tell me all that you know. First, where is Gallio Tullius?” She took another step toward them.

“Don’t let her draw.” Naevia leapt onto her cousin, sure that if the sword came out of its sheath, it would be the end for her and Vel. Their father had been right. Dellia was a traitor. She wrestled with Dellia’s right arm.

“Off me, you … little harpy.” Dellia spun and flung Naevia through the air. Her cousin hit a wall and fell in a heap on a richly woven carpet below. “Now, Vel … Vel … put down the sword.” She found that her other cousin had pulled his sword, and held it out in front of him like his tutor had no doubt instructed. “I love you well, Vel. Drop the sword.” She drew her own sword.

“You want Father dead. What has he ever done to you?” Vel stepped sideways, his weight on the balls of his feet.

“Your father has betrayed the crown, Your Grace. But you, so far, have not. Drop your sword.” Dellia lunged, feinted, parried his thrust, and then spun and lashed out. Loosened from his grip, his sword clattered to the floor.

“No!” Naevia wished very much for her dagger or bow, but having neither she jumped onto Dellia’s back again. The room twirled around her and she gripped tight. She kicked at Dellia’s right arm, and heard the sword fall. In an instant, Vel tackled Dellia, too. The three of them stumbled into a wall. Naevia found herself airborne again, and landed on the bed. When she looked up, Dellia was sitting on top of Vel on the floor, her hands around his neck. “Let go of him,” Naevia screamed. She looked around the room for a weapon. Both swords were on the other side of the struggling cousins. She could hear her brother struggling to breathe. Then a thought hit her. “Your curse, Vel. Use it.” She scrambled off the bed trying to get around them to grab a sword, but Dellia kicked out at her, knocking her backward. Naevia crashed into their lunch table.

“Hush … now … I only want … to ask you some questions.” Dellia could feel his long frame weaken under her. The trick was to cut off enough air that he would surrender, but not so much that she might kill her naive cousin. “That’s it … calm down.” He still struggled, reaching his hands up under the sleeves of her tunic, tightly pressing his fingers onto her bare forearms. “What’s … happening?” Her grip on his neck loosened. A warmth spread up her arms. The most delicious feeling moved into her core and she was suddenly very aware of the rapid thump of her heart.

“Are you okay, Vel?” Naevia propped herself up on her elbows. Spilled saffron rice covered the front of her stola. She couldn’t hear him choking anymore, so that was good. “What should I do?”

“I’m … okay.” The air Vel sucked had never before been so sweet. He could feel his cousin’s hips rocking a little against his abdomen. Despite nearly dying at her hands, his penis swelled. Dellia dressed in a manly fashion, but she couldn’t disguise her beauty. He looked up into her deep, brown eyes and could see doubt there. Doubt was a thing seldom seen in his cousin. “I think … it’s working.”

“What’s working?” Dellia could sense that the tide had turned against her in her struggle with the pair of Tullius siblings, but she didn’t understand why. “What … what … have you done to me?” Dellia had always thought Fortinbras the more attractive cousin, but as she looked down at this tall, gangly teenager, she couldn’t help but admire his strange charisma.

“Just relax, Dellia.” Naevia could see the hunger growing in her eyes. From her own experiences with Vel, she knew that feeling well. “You can stop now, Vel. I think it’s over.” But her brother did not move his hands from Dellia’s bare skin.

“I cannot. She’ll kill me if I let go.” He could feel his cock pressing into her round butt as her hips moved a little faster on him.

“You can’t … do stuff … with her. She’s our cousin and she’s working against Father.” Naevia could see where this runaway carriage of a moment was headed. She had thought, lately, how someday she would have to share Vel with his future wife. She hadn’t liked that thought, but it was inevitable. Sharing him now, with their confident older cousin didn’t sit well with her at all.

“You … suddenly remind me … of Spurrius.” Dellia blinked her eyes and looked down at Vel. That wasn’t quite right, Vel was nothing like her husband. But her stomach and pussy disagreed with her, for she had the same butterflies in her tummy that an intimate moment with Spurrius caused, and she had the same wetness between her legs. “I … don’t understand.” She felt his hardness poking her bottom through her tunic. She had known he was big, but to stab at her with his thing while she sat on his belly, it had to be a very long cock indeed. Her hands, which had been squeezing him tight, now gently touched his throat. Soon, she was unfastening his robes. Heat radiated from Vel’s touch. She wanted to bathe in the feeling forever.

“Vel?” Naevia sat up and brushed the rice off her chest. She watched as her cousin muttered something she could not hear in a confused tone of voice and bent down to kiss Vel softly on the lips. Soon, they were kissing like long lost lovers. Dellia gyrated her hips on his stomach in a way that Naevia would never have suspected her cousin could move. Dellia had always seemed so manly, it was odd to see her feminine side now. Especially after such violence moments before. Naevia’s eyes widened as her cousin opened Vel’s robes, and then unclasped her own sword belt. They broke their kiss. She then reached down and pulled her tunic over her head, tossing it away from her.

“I only want to do this … oh … for a moment longer, then you will tell me … ah … ah … about your father.” Dellia trembled as bolts of lightning shot through her body. She felt the heat emanating from her hips now, she looked down to see Vel’s hands assisting her pelvis in its movements on him, gripping her right above her underwear. “Oh, gods, Vel. Just let me … finish this one time … and then we can … aaaaahhhhhhhhh.” A minor climax took her, and she heard herself cry out. “Spurrius, Spurrrrrrius, oh, my sweet …” By habit, she called her husband’s name, but part of her mind knew it was not Spurrius underneath her.

“What should I do, Naevia?” Vel turned his head to look at the pale, shocked face of his sister. “If I release her from the curse, she will go back to her treachery.” The hips grinding into him paused, as Dellia submitted to another orgasm, but soon they were grinding him again faster than before.

“Give me a moment to think.” Naevia stood up. She could retrieve one of the swords and threaten Dellia, but she remembered how her cousin had handled them before submitting to the curse. She watched as Dellia removed her chest band. The garment had been very tight, for Naevia had not suspected she had breasts that size until Dellia had tossed the band away. Those boobs were paler than the rest of Dellia, but her nipples were quite dark. Now that Dellia’s breasts shook in Vel’s face, Naevia wondered what Vel’s resistance to her would be. Naevia had to admit, the beauty of the mostly naked woman, undulating as she was, would have made Venus proud.

“I want to … crest this hill … one more time … and then we will get back to … our business.” Dellia’s eyes rolled. She scooted her butt back, so that Vel’s cudgel rested on her left cheek and pushed at the small of her back. “Gods, you are large.” She pulled her underwear to the side, and reached down with her hand to rub at her button. Even Spurrius had never wound her up so. She looked down at her cousin’s handsome face, and could see those blue eyes staring at her shaking boobs. The desire evident on his face filled her with pride.

“Have you thought of a way to … um … handle this?” Vel found it embarrassing to grab another woman’s tits with his sister looking on, but when would he have such a chance again? Vel’s hands slid up her sides, moved around front, and cupped Dellia’s boobs, one to each hand. They were heavier than Naevia’s and hung a little lower on her chest. Vel wondered if that was what would happen to Naevia when she entered her twenties, or if maybe it was because Dellia was a taller woman than his sister. He hefted and squeezed his cousin’s breasts and listened to her moans in response.

“I haven’t thought of anything, yet.” Naevia paced the room to avoid staring at the pair of them. She knew how strong-willed Dellia was. Vel was right, if he stopped, she’d be back at their throats. The thought occurred to Naevia that she could slit her cousin’s throat while she was otherwise occupied with Vel. But she tossed that idea out. Traitor or not, Dellia was still a woman they had known all their lives. And Naevia wasn’t a murderer. They needed to turn her to their side. A strong ally she could be for their father. A double agent. But to turn her, Naevia suspected they would have to break her. And there was only one way she could see to do that. “I think …” She hated to say it. She did not want to see her brother coupled to anyone else. But there was no other way. “I think you will have to go the distance with her.”

“How … Vel … how?” Dellia came again, shaking all over. She was now hunching her hips forward and holding her underwear firmly to side, so that the great cock slid against the bottom of her pussy. Another climax sprung her torqued nervous system.

“I’ll do it, Naevia.” He tried to sound heroic, like it was some great sacrifice to resize his cousin’s vagina, but he doubted he fooled anyone. Least of all his sister. “Go ahead and put it in, Dellia. Put it inside you.” He tried to sound convincing.

“Spurrius … Spurrius … only for Spurrius.” Dellia shook her head and fought against the delicious heat that moved through her. “You would … split me in two … he would know.” She wanted nothing more than to reach under her and guide him in, but she couldn’t do that to her husband.

Naevia could see her cousin’s resolve growing. She knew intimately what Vel could do with his cock. In her memory, she went back to the first time he’d entered her. It had been just the tip, but Naevia had known then that she would do anything to have more of him. Dellia needed the same experience, and quickly, before her mind cleared. “You’ll need to put it in. Do it like we did yesterday. Take her like a dog.”

“What?” Dellia’s mind latched onto those words. Like they had done yesterday? Had they? Suddenly, she was no longer sitting astride Vel. Disappointment and relief flooded her mind, pulling her in opposite directions. Without his hands on her, the fog lifted from her brain. She found that she’d been maneuvered onto her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulder and could see the mammoth cock waving back and forth as Vel got himself into position. “Not in a million years, Cousin.” She kicked at him, but her body was slow. He twisted his hips to avoid her foot, and moved in. She turned and reached for his neck again, to continue what she’d started before. What had the queens done by sending her on this mission? Did anyone know what they were up against in Vel? She had to get control of the situation. But as she held him, twisting herself sideways, his hands squeezed her waist, and she shuddered at the warmth.

“What do I do, Vel?” Naevia watched through her fingers, a hand over her eyes. When Dellia had sprung back at him, she’d almost jumped in herself to help her brother. But she could see the fight leave Dellia almost instantly.

“Help me, Naevia. Help me put it in.” Vel kneeled on the floor, holding Dellia as she twisted around in his arms. His cousin’s butt was in his lap, but she was half-turned, so that her face looked up at him, and her hands gently caressed his neck. “I dare not let go of her again.”

“Oh, gods.” Naevia moved toward them. She reached down, pushed Dellia’s hips to make clearance for Vel’s long cock, and then grabbed the fevered organ. “This really is the only way, Vel.” She said it more to convince herself than him. She found Dellia’s slick opening with the wide head, and pushed it in.

Dellia gave a scream of pure joy. That mighty thing was in. It had opened her up and she felt her body stretching and accommodating. She wondered, breathlessly, if it would fit. And then her butt rested on Vel’s thighs and she realized it was all inside her. Her hips moved on their own. She had never experienced anything of the like. Her mind hooked on Spurrius for the briefest second, and then all thoughts of her husband were gone. The pleasure pushed him out of her mind. With him, went her mission, the queens, her father. All responsibilities and loyalties faded with each thrust of her hips. An animal whined in the room with them, and it dawned on Dellia that she herself made those noises.

Naevia stepped back and watched Dellia’s tight butt pound back into her brother. She could see Dellia’s pink lips strained around Vel’s thick, veiny shaft. “Gods, Vel. You’ll surely break her.” Part of her wanted this to stop, to keep her brother to herself forever and always. And part of her wanted this woman broken and tamed like a wild horse. “Break her in, Vel,” she whispered. “Break the traitor.”  

Continued in Chapter 8

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