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#i still feel like i'm making rian's chapters way too complicated
em-dashes · 1 year
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sometimes when it's hard to write, you just have to power through it and eventually something will click. but other times, it's a sign you need to take a break from the wip and come back to it with fresher eyes. the struggle is determining which time is which and wishing you had a magic 8 ball that told you how to make the writing good
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thecandywrites · 3 years
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Blood For Gold Part 11
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Woo, so while I'm in a mad rush to clean my house in preparation for new windows TOMORROW. While I've been cleaning, this story WENT OFF in my head and I was, in a mad dash to get it all down on my breaks. Oh the storm is a- brewin! And if you don't at least want to scandolously and in an outrage and a gasp- yell 'You bitch!' at the end of the chapter, I will have failed you. Becuase I was yelling that writing it.
Thank you to @kriskukko for letting me borrow her regency era orc art and to @punkhorse96 for your amazing feedback. Hehehe.
Blood For Gold
Part 11
“So what can you tell me about Charlotte?” Zax pressed as he helped pick out jewelry for you to wear for dinner among your jewelry that had been brought from your home and that had just recently been given to you, looking for more of your Kilan style pieces.
“I’ve only known her for a couple of days, she’s very nice, so far at least.” You answered.
“And what can you tell me about Jane?” Ocearian posed as he finished getting dressed himself, smoothing out his clothes and appraising how he looked in the full mirror as all three of your brothers converged in your room while their own rooms were getting prepared.
“Oh don’t you start anything with her. She’s a very sweet, kind, but very innocent girl. In England women are kept purposefully naive and ill informed and powerless and are practically property of their fathers, brothers and then husbands. Her parents are monsters. More vicious than any wolf or viper that would make the most stone cold dragonborn moura in the Qing Dynasty or every devil in hell consider returning to a path of righteousness to the Creator. They are very abusive to her, mentally, emotionally and physically and the only reason it’s not sexually too is because her virginity is considered sacred. They hurt her to control me when I had to live with them at Broadcove when they found they could not hurt me all the ways they wanted to. English custom and culture demands that she is never to be left alone with any man for any reason except her own father, who is the most dangerous of all. All she has to keep her from ruination and disgrace is her own innocence and honor and virginity which all dangles precariously by a thread. Her parents hate me. They despise me and have made my life worse than any hell in existence since I came here and it is only because I have leverage and blackmail on them that I’m surviving them so far.” You revealed adamantly.
“Oooh, blackmail? What kind of blackmail?” Axal asked as he came over and practically sat in your lap at your vanity in the room before he touched up your makeup again from his vantage point.
“Spill, I need it. All of it.” Axal insisted.
“Ramsey has five mistresses and several illegitimate heirs and his favorite mistress is Audrey Rogers at The Red Velvet Rope which is a moura whorehouse here in London Towne that he goes to on a weekly basis.” You informed him.
“No not on him, I mean that does make things fun for me, but on the Morrigans.” Axal prompted.
“No, I’m not playing my ace just yet. Not unless I need to.” You shook your head no.
“So it’s an ace. That means it’s very solid proof.” Axal grinned triumphantly.
“It is and it’s substantial.” You allowed.
“Ace of spades then.” Axal surmised.
“Ace of spades.” You confirmed to Axal before turning to Ocearian again.
“But Jane is way too sweet and innocent for anyone to mess with her and I will go down swinging to protect her, she’s the closest thing to a real friend I’ve had since I came here. All my other friends in the last year I had to pay to be so. Jane suffers enough from the hands of her parents, she deserves better than anyone trying to toy with her.” You insisted again.
“I would never toy with her! She’s divine. And there’s mutual attraction, genuine mutual attraction.” Ocearian insisted as you resigned yourself with a sigh because you could see his feelings in his eyes.
“Then court her properly, according to English culture and customs because nothing else will do. But again, her parents will shoot you down. She is their pawn and they are not about to let her go to Dorierra of all places, they probably want her to stay on the English Empire side, not anywhere else. She has a little brother who is to inherit everything and even if her parents were to be struck by lightning tonight, he would then have say in everything and he’s been brainwashed by his parents to hate me too and hate all mouras in turn.” You warned him.
“Even with your ace of spades? They wouldn’t reconsider?” Axal prodded.
“No. And it’s because of that ace of spades that they probably never will either.” You answered.
“Is the ace of spades also the reason you’re a shakan now?” Axal asked as your brothers paused to hear your answer.
“...yes and no, it’s very complicated.” You reluctantly answered before you noticed the time.
“Come on, we need to finish getting ready and go down to dinner.” You told them, not wanting to talk about it any further.
Demsey’s jaw fell to the floor when you and your brothers came to dinner just a few moments later than everyone else, all of you wearing color coordinated and matching outfits as you were clearly dressed in a style he had never really seen before as he barely noticed that Calla and Bennie and their brothers had done the same, choosing to don the style they were most comfortable in of their own cultures and quarters.
You had a little top on, that barely covered your breasts but your middle was bared as was your back but you were wearing a sheer shawl and to see your gold moura marks on such intimate parts of your person, he still couldn’t help but remember Aurdra Draft’s marks. But he was sure that yours were even more luxurious and numerous than hers had been and your skirt was very poofy and full but the embroidery and the fabrics used as well as the clearly moura ethnic jewelry, had you looking like a foreign princess yourself and had himself ready and willing to pledge himself to you and follow you to the ends of the world and forgetting every rule of decorum as he couldn't help but stare longingly and desirous as he dared and one coy look and smile from you and he swooned as he practically elbowed his way to sit next to you at the table which delighted you that he would do so.
“Oh Father, since we are expecting Audra’s family the day after tomorrow, in only three days, the Midnight Peacock has it’s Volto Masqurade, I thought we should all go and attend.” Ramsey insisted to his father.
“Oh absolutely.” Gregori agreed.
“Also, it was suggested we have an official Kamoba battle.” Ramsey added as Axal let his pinky graze the outside of Ramsey's thigh and grinned when Ramsey subtly squirmed but clearly had a physical reaction to his advance before Ramsey reached under the table and grabbed Axal's knee and tried to give it a warning grip but all that accomplished was Axal becoming emboldened even more.
“Oh that sounds magnificent, Darling you must agree to such a request.” Yalin urged Gregori as she uncharacteristically sat to his immediate left while Ramsey sat to his immediate right.
“It has been a very long time since the palace of Windsor has seen a Kamoba battle, we will have to do all we can for a proper one.” Gregori readily agreed.
“What’s Kamoba?” Demsey asked curiously.
“It’s a mix of several games. Do you have a game where it’s like- capture the flag of an opposing team?” You answered from your place next to Demsey since Axal had taken your former place as you sat next to Yalin per her request as Zax was sitting on the other side of Axal and Charlotte sitting next to him as the two were immediately taken with each other as Jane sat on the other side of Charlotte with Ocearian on the other side of her as Jane as Rian was practically fawning over her and she was with him as well, as shy and reserved as she was but you were worried for her because you knew that the moment her parents would reappear, she’d be stripped from him and it was almost cruel to let anything to blossom between them, as natural as it seemed to be.
But you yourself would be lying if you didn’t enjoy Demsey sitting so close to you. Before it was always across from him. He still smelled good, like fresh, clean laundry and his own spicy personal musk filling your nose and making your feminine folds squish with essence of desire. You of course partially blamed yourself for perhaps projecting your preference for Demsey Draft onto the good Duke and tried to reason with yourself that they were probably two very different people, one was a harlot in a whorehouse and the other was an upstanding Duke of nobility and besides a similarity in looks and voice, probably shared little else in common. But the message didn’t seem to reach your body from your brain because your body was reacting to him the same way it had reacted to Demsey Draft.
Also from this proximate distance, Demsey could smell your luxurious and alluring perfume and your scent in general which was still sending him into a tizzy. He could feel the heat roll off of you in waves and feel your full skirts brush against his leg as he wanted nothing more than to reach down and hold your hand under the table, or better yet, dig his nose into you and find all the sources of those amazing scents. You smelled both clean yet perfumed and decadent and opulent, alluring and divine and if he could bottle this scent, he would, in heartbeat. But he would never sell such a treasure, he would hoard it forever.
“Oh yes of course, it was a favorite of mine as a child,” Demsey nodded.
“Well it’s like that, only it’s also fencing, but the swords and other weapons are superheated so that once you spit oil onto them, so that you more or less breathe fire onto them, then you fight with flaming weapons. But you have to wear special leather armor that’s meant to keep you cool so you don’t burn up or drop from heat exhaustion. Also the Kamoba battle arena is an obstacle course with anywhere from three, to five to seven capture points, or beacons as they’re usually called, and once you capture them, you ignite the charge and they explode into flames and color, like a firework, with colored smoke. And you can either fight one on one or in teams of equal number or even among the sexes, women against the men.”
“But that is never fair because women usually win, like 9 times out of 10.” Axal praised from his spot across from you as he appraised how affected Demsey was by you. You weren’t even really trying that hard to ensnare him and Demsey was clearly already smitten, if you just put out just a bit more effort, you’d have him right where you would want him.
“What?” Demsey asked, not thinking he had heard that right.
“Moura women are fiercer competitors, usually quicker, stealthier and frankly better in every way because women communicate much better with each other and work better together and coordinate beautifully and while the men are usually fighting and arguing with each other about who takes the lead, who does what, while the women have already figured that out and are onto the second or even third or fourth beacon by that point.” Axal explained.
“And nothing will show a moura’s colors better than a round of Kamoba, you’ll see even the sweetest, gentlest moura, show a fierceness and ruthlessness and competitiveness usually only reserved for gladiators but within the Kamoba arena, even the most battle hardened veteran is not match for a moura woman agent. I remember watching Yalin fight Kamoba with.. Oh I forget her name, it was something viper, desert viper of some kind, Yalin had been nothing but sweet to me, but her ruthlessness in that arena sealed the deal for me.” Gregori praised as Yalin giggled gleefully at the praise.
"Loreiris," Yalin supplied.
"Loreiris Amaharas? The Saharan Viper?" You asked, knowing that name well as your brothers also inclined their ears to hear that name.
"Yes, the very one." Yalin Confirmed.
"That's my grandmother on my mother’s side." You revealed before your brothers confirmed that.
"Is it? Oh I didn't realize! How is she?" Yalin asked.
"Still teaching Kamoba. She is a master, I have seen her take on teams of 15 all by herself, she’s usually only armed with a boomerang, a bow and a sword, the fastest round in the records was won by her, less than three minutes." Axal proudly informed them.
"Oh there's no way I'd win a match against her now then." Yalin giggled.
“And Audra is her greatest pupil yet.” Axal praised.
“Really? Oh I knew there was a reason I instantly loved you.” Yalin cooed to you proudly as you blushed bashfully, knowing that in England, women were rather forbidden from taking up the martial arts as you worried about Demsey being put off by such a thing since he was very proper.
But on the contrary, Demsey was now fantasizing about you in full armor swinging a flaming sword and suddenly every fantasy with a battle maiden in his own orcish culture was becoming fulfilled, all he needed was to put your face in his mind’s eye and he was ready to just fall to your feet and propose. However highly improper that would be.
“I have not held a sword in two years, I don’t think my skills have kept that well.” You allowed.
“Oh it’s like riding a griffin, you never really forget.” Yalin waived off.
“And of course it’s always fun to gamble on the teams. I made Yalin’s bride price for the bet I made on her, really I went with my brother to the stables for him to pick out his queen among the favorites and being the third younger brother to the future king, they only allowed me to have the generalley bride price, which the generalley brides are fine but I was on the hunt for extraordinary and low and behold here is Yalin, with her sisters, all of which were in the imbraturi class which is the imperial class that usually only reserved for emperors and kings and the like, which is of course Yalin was in that one so I bet the whole sum on her since she was already set to duel with the Saharan Viper that if she won, and I won the bet, that I would use those winnings to buy her outright, which is of course what happened and betting on you my dear has always been my best investment of my life and one that I will always repeat.” Gregori praised as you sat there in adoration because clearly they loved each other dearly, Gregori and Yalin were proof that the system could lead to happiness and satisfaction in everything while Ramsey felt ill as he looked at you. Because he couldn’t and didn’t feel the same about you. You were a last resort, his last chance at saving grace and you kept yourself withdrawn from him while Axal on the other hand was threatening to unnerve him completely. The way Axal was dressed, had him wanting to rip his clothes off and find the source of that cologne with his mouth into every crook and cranny on Axal and really show Axal not to start anything he wasn’t ready and willing to finish as Ramsey’s touch had only stroked up Axal’s thigh to try to pay back to Axal what Axal was currently doing to him and to feel the thick, heavy bulge along his thigh, made him weak and his pucker was practically winking in anticipation.
“Oh stop. How do you know I didn’t beg Loreiris to lose on purpose to me just so that you could take me home? I was and still am madly in love with you, I was desperate to leave with you one way or another.” Yalin waived off bashfully.
“Because such a thing is one against the rules and would have resulted in an automatic forfeit and two against the code of honor. I’m sure your love for him gave you the fuel and all the power you needed to win.” Axal flattered which got Yalin to preen proudly.
“Well I suppose you’re right, of course one can’t forget the verbal component because while you’re fighting each other with flaming swords, you’re also supposed to be battling wits and trash talk and insult each other in the most artful of ways of course, all while set to music so that your words and actions compliment everything else. There is no greater spectacle than a Kamoba battle, but it will take a few days to prepare such an arena.” Yalin said.
“So wait, it’s capture the flag, but with fencing, but the swords are on fire, while on an obstacle course and the “flags” are fireworks that you have to set off, all while battling with wits all set to music?” Demsey asked as he counted each component on a finger and almost running out of fingers.
“Also while wearing another full body leather suit to save you from the flames but each person or each team rather, depending on what kind of flame oil is used, will leave a mark. So it’s usually black versus white. So one side will wear black leather, the other white. But whenever you get struck, there will be a mark, and depending on the kind of oil and the kind of pigment used, you could get any number of colors marked on you and depending on where you get those marks, it’s points. And usually when playing in teams, there will usually be an archer on either side which sends burning arrows at you from across the arena.” You informed him.
“My head is spinning just thinking about it, how in the world do you manage it all? I’m overwhelmed just thinking about it, I can’t imagine how overwhelmed I would be trying to play.” Demsey confessed which you found comforting that he would be so modest and humble in his own abilities.
“Well that’s why it’s the Dorierran national sport and why the Dorierran army has never seen a complete defeat, because if the games are that intense, imagine how intense we would be on the battlefield or much less any other place where performance is key.” Axal practically purred as you blushed at Axal’s implication because you could also see Axal practically clawing up Ramsey’s leg as he said it and Ramsey blushed and squirmed ever so slightly and you wanted to shake your head by how hard and fast Axal was onslaughting Ramsey and appreciated that Demsey was much more subtle and appreciated subtlety in turn. You had come to realize and appreciate how perhaps Lady Kate Whiteale was maybe a little to forward, a little too direct and insistent. Men did like to chase, not necessarily liked to be chased. But Ramsey was surprising you because he was giving Axal that look. That look that said ‘keep it up and I promise you, I’ll torture you with bliss’ look and Axal was giving him an equally heated look.
In your early stable days, you would have discerned that Ramsey would have wanted such an approach and two years ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated in giving it to him, hell even a full year ago, you would have been desperate to do so. But now, you were happy to be more reserved, more thoughtful, more watchful and discerning.
“Really?” Demsey asked in surprise.
“Oh yes. There was only a handful of times the Dorierran armies were somewhat defeated on the battlefield, defending Dorierra and it’s walls but when they met the walls, the whole country can be boobytrapped and it’s the Dorierran women who defeated those armies that had tried to overcome the soldier men and the walls in turn. Moura men can rise and fall, but it’s the women who are the backbone of society and run the country as well as they do. Dorierra is very much a matriarchal society. Whereas here it’s clearly patriarchal. There is no soldier, warrior, gladiator alike more devastating than a moura mother protecting her child.” Axal explained.
“Well, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Demsey had to agree.
After dinner, Axal and Ramsey practically disappeared while the rest of you retired to the gardens to get an evening stroll in, where Axal and Ramsey’s absence didn’t appear to be noticed by anyone before you asked Amara to go with you to tour the gardens and chose a far corner near the front door where you noticed a discrete carriage was pulled up before you noticed Axal and Ramsey depart from the house, both of them wearing rather unremarkable clothes in the English style as you realized that Axal must be wearing Ramsey’s English clothes because Axal didn’t have any English clothes to speak of, so that they would blend in with any crowd on a busy street, both of them practically giggling giddily as you asked Amara to hang back while Ramsey looked almost like a deer caught in the headlights when he noticed you approaching as his cheeks flushed cherry before Axal said something to him and Ramsey got in the carriage so that Axal left his side to meet you half way.
“Where are you to off to?” You asked Axal as Ramsey was getting anxious as Axal left his side to join yours while Amara stood back as well, to give you and your brother privacy.
“To the Red Velvet Rope to meet Audrey myself.” Axal grinned.
“Oh, well in that case, have fun, actually…” You paused.
“I have a susceptibility there, you must protect me in this respect, I need to know how much that could affect me.” You murmured to him, with a pleading look.
“Of course, anything, what’s his name?” Axal asked.
“Demsey Draft, he looks and sounds almost exactly like Duke Demsey Voyambi, you can’t miss him. But oh is he exquisite, but in English society, it’s technically forbidden.” You praised.
“Consider it done,” Axal kissed your cheeks and winked and left your side to rejoin Ramsey as you did the same with Amara.
“Where are they off to?” Amara asked.
“Oh they’re going out, Axal wanted to see London and Ramsey’s giving him a mini tour apparently, I asked Axal to try to get to know the real Ramsey for me. Because surely with four brothers, who they are when they are with friends or doing whatever it is they do in gentlemen’s clubs is not who they tend to be when they’re around their families.” You explained.
“Of course. You want to see what Ramsey is really like, because you do not think that the person he shows you is the real him?” Amara surmised.
“Exactly. Men especially in English society seem to have a different facet of themselves, one for business, one for socializing, one for family, one for friends. Just like we do I suppose. But I must confess that I pulled you aside for something rather serious. I have so few friends and even fewer people I trust to have their confidence and discretion.” You began.
“Please, count me as one of them, what do you need?” Amara asked. Eager to do whatever she could to help.
“In only a day or two, my family is coming here. And while I’m happy to see them, I don’t trust that the reason for their visit is to purely reunite with me. I have reason to believe that they’ve been invited to come to pressure me and coerce me into accepting a possible proposal from the Dauphin. And I want and need you to know right now, that I will not willingly accept such a thing. We are mismatched and the Dauphin and this castle, while a loving home for Ramsey, would be a gilded cage for me. You see how Yalin and Gregori love each other unconditionally, and I know Ramsey wishes for the same for himself. But I do not care for Ramsey, I have no attraction to him or desire for him, let alone any appetite for him, even if he were the Crown Prince of England, it would not sway me to either have, or find or make up any kind of attraction or affection for him, and I can not bear to enter into another loveless marriage. Broadcove was my prison while I was there. And I do not wish for any other place, even a palace such as this to be my next one. I would rather be penniless and living in a hut on a mountain top but happily married rather than be a Dauphine of Windsor but have no respect for myself or love in my life.” You professed.
“Of course. I have far too many friends who have done nothing but find the richest suitor so that they can live a comfortable life, but there is no peace, or kindness or affection in their comfortable homes. Very few are lucky enough to find love and material comfort, and many have to choose one over the other.” Amara sympathized.
“So if I need to flee from a possible marriage to Ramsey, would you help me?” You asked.
“I would, in a heartbeat. Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. I’d even consider going with you if Kate Whiteale’s brother John, who I loathe almost as much as I do Kate were to try to insist on his own addresses to me. I know this sounds crazy but if Storren were to ask me to follow him back to Dorierra, I would probably do it.” Amara confessed.
“Except if you do that, you’d be going to Dorierra as a servant to another moura woman. You could be anything from a laundress, to a cook to a farmer or...any number of things. Because Storren is only a chef in the kitchens back in Dorierra.” You tried to gently caution her.
“I would rather farm vegetables and be happy than be a duchess and unhappy.” Amara insisted herself.
“I’m happy we agree then. Your brother Demsey has offered to assist me if such a measure needs to be taken. But I can not be seen going to his room, nor he- mine without a benign reason, even if it is to keep anything there that would indicate that I would flee, I can’t keep such things in my room, or in the rooms of my siblings. Because they will tell my parents who then will tell Gregori and Yalin, much less the stables or the royal family, but you can not say anything to Storren, because he would most likely report it to Bennie who I wouldn’t put it past her to use that against me and against your family because moura brothers are sadly information pumps for their sisters, as you will see that Axal is for me with Ramsey and I don’t want you to suffer from knowing this and if you told Storren, or anyone else, I would be done for. Ramsey already is trying to entangle my griffin Heavencrest with Charlico and is having them stall together so they will become a true mated pair. If I were to try to fly her away, Charlico would either alarm the stable that Heavencrest was leaving or try to leave with us and I would be seen as stealing Charlico and a bounty would be put on my head and Charlico’s price would skyrocket, so much so that there would be no way for me to pay it, with anything other than my marriage hand or my life. I am trying to talk Axal into getting Ramsey to sell me Charlico so that if I need to flee, I can flee with both of them. But I don’t think Ramsey, let alone Gregori and Yalin would agree to it because it’s just another tie for them to keep me here. But I would rather deal with a heartbroken Heavencrest rather than being in another gilded cage.” You murmured.
“I understand, so how can I help exactly?” Amara asked.
“No one would think anything if I gifted you a trunk full of “gifts”, and no one would think twice about Demsey going to your room and simply moving those “gifts” or putting things from your room to his and if I disguise my fleeing things in a trunk of other gifts, that your brother would then move to his room and no one would think anything of Demsey moving things to the stables, because he is a gentleman and a guest and if he wanted to go for an evening ride, no one would stop him, whereas I would never get even that far without alarming at least the servants.” You proposed.
“Oh of course.” Amara readily agreed.
“And your brother has also offered that if I need to flee, if I send word to him of where I’ve ended up, he’s offered to send me the rest of my belongings. But legally giving him access to any of that is nigh impossible, that is why I want to name you my heir and successor, should I have to flee, I would formally give up all ownership to everything. But I can name you my heir as close friend and confidant. And it would be accepted by the English courts since you are a duchess and of nobility and once you have ownership of my property, can I trust you to return it to me wherever I find myself? Could I count on you for this?” You asked her.
“Absolutely, what do I need to sign?” Amara asked.
“I will write something up tonight and I will give you a trunk full of gifts as well for doing this huge favor for me. But the second trunk will be for my possible fleeing.” You proposed before you hugged each other.
“I wish I was as brave as you, willing to give up a Dauphin, knowing you would be wealthy but unhappy.” Amara murmured.
“And I wish I was like you, knowing what you want immediately upon being introduced to it and not holding back from trying to obtain it.” You offered.
“However, before you decide to follow Storren back to Dorierra, has he explained to you how Dorierra works? And why Dorierra is called ‘The Stables’?” You asked her.
“Uh, not, not really. We haven’t discussed anything like that yet.” Amara confessed.
“Forgive me for being forward, but do you know how sex, conception and thus babies, are made?” You asked.
“Of course I do, my mother has instructed me about such things.” Amara assured you.
“Well then you’re the first non married Englishwoman I’ve met who knows such things then. But there is more you need to know then. Before you get too attached to Storren, you should know that Dorierra has the name- The Stables- for a reason. Every moura wife who lives in Dorierra, is a broodmare, and every moura man is a stud. I’m sure you’ve noticed how it is only Axal and myself that look like true siblings, and that’s because Rian and Zax are only my half brothers. While my parents are married, it is the stables who dictates who has sex with you on any given moment of any given day and the stables has the business of conceiving down to a flawless science, to the point that women know they are pregnant within five days of missing the first day of their courses and they can pinpoint exactly what day and probably the time of conception because it’s all recorded.” You began.
“Every month, the conceive week is spent having sex at least three to five times a day, once upon first waking up and then after every meal and then again right before sleep, where if your husband is not who the stud is, he is removed from the house and sent to sleep somewhere else, usually across the country so there is no chance that his own seed will take root that month, and it is repeated each month and depending on how valuable the genetics that are passed down to possible offspring, either the whole week is spent with the intended stud or the week can be seperated by halves, thirds or fifths, where you have five different studs having sex with you at least five times a day for a week, most moura women pray for pregnancy so that their cunnies don’t get rubbed raw by such vigorous activities, the best studs can cum within a minute so that the woman doesn’t have to endure too much but usually the female orgasm is reserved for the last sex session before bed to promote better sleep for her.” You explained as Amara’s eyebrows practically went up into her hair line in surprise.
“Only when a moura mother is pregnant, is she allowed to enjoy only her husband for the duration of the pregnancy but while she is pregnant and no longer subject to spending her days and nights with others, her husband is still a stud and he will still spend most days and nights either working secularly for the stables or sexually for the stables, so prepare yourself that because you would be a forign wife and therefore, not subject to the stables way yourself and Storren could enjoy your own fidelity, Storren would never be able to give you the same. His genetics are too precious and the reason why moura men are rarely ever allowed to leave Dorierra is to preserve them for moura wives exclusively. Right now the stables are working on creating a pastel version paradise orcs and robin’s eggs orcs out of the current paradise orcs and Storren already has several children by several different ladies, it’s just in the culture there, but the only protection is that mouras are immune to sexually transmitted diseases, but I would fear for you because you have no such protection in your body, and Storren would have to use the very harshest soaps that are made to cleanse the male genatalia to keep from passing anything over to their wives and it’s always used on moura studs when their wives are pregnant to ensure the safety and health of the baby.” You warned her as she looked shocked and almost alarmed, if not a little gutted.
“It is why I wanted to leave Dorierra, because seeing my house father, because there is a distinction between house father and heir father, being sent away from the love of his life for a week every month when she was not pregnant was very distressing but it is just the way it is for moura mothers in Dorierra, and the entire country would collapse because Dorierra needs all the moura brides it can create to sell on the world market like any other broodmare or heffer at an auction.” You furthered as she seemed to take that into account.
“But it’s not like moura brides fare much better. Depending on where you end up, you could be in a harem, sharing a sultan or a shah or sheik with hundreds or maybe even a thousand other women. But in Europa, even a queen rarely has a king all to herself, usually there will always be other mistresses but having to share him with a handful is better than sharing your husband with tens or hundreds of thousands of others at Dorierra. It’s why my own desire for my complete fidelity and the complete fidelity in a mate makes no sense, not to any moura or any other from Dorierra, even here in England, there are whorehouses, and courtesans and mistresses a plenty. But it is why I agreed to marry Edward, because never in his life had he ever had a mistress and he never once used a whorehouse. But moving forward, I don’t know if I could expect the same for anyone else, but my mother blames that on all the fairytales I’m so fond of as a child because a moura- there is supposed to be little to no emotional attachment between lovers, it’s all supposed to be business, but I don’t have the heart or the stomach for such business. I was crushed when I was a little girl and realized why all these men who were not my house father were coming to see my mother and why I didn’t look anything like my house father. And my hier father is one of the most popular studs in Dorierra, he can cum in about two to three pumps and while he’s a charmer and a flatterer and I like to believe that he has some kind of fatherly affection for me, he was more proud of the high bride price I brought in rather than anything else. He has thousands of children and not once has he tried to address me by my name, it’s always pet names, like dearest or darling or sweetheart. Dorierra is probably oversaturated by his genetics, but one can’t argue with these results.” You explained as you looked at the gold moura feather marks on your arms pointedly as Amara did the same, looking at them in a whole new light now.
“But Demsey has never used a whorehouse, at least to my knowledge, he is above such things as is Tzane, Sierge on the other hand, not so much. And my father would never do my mother the dishonor of having any other than her in their marriage bed, while it is true that in the past, orcs were seen to be very promiscuous, now in modern times, we’ve thankfully left that behind, at least in polite society.” Amara insisted.
“Well, keep it to yourself, but that’s probably why I prefer Demsey to Ramsey then.” You hinted which made her happy but you could tell that your word of warning had shaken her a bit.
“I don’t wish to scare you off of Storren, I really don’t, he’s perfectly wonderful and he would treat his future wife like she was a goddess and he’s capable of such things, house wives and house husbands have emotional fidelity, and his figurative heart would be yours and only yours for life should that relationship go in that direction but I feel you should know the whole truth about Dorierra and its culture, if you ever want to make it your home.” You felt compelled to try to clarify.
“Oh, don’t apologize, I thank you very much for telling me. In polite society, we don’t really talk about such things and when I hear about Dorierra referred to as ‘the stables’ I think most of us didn’t have an inkling that it was like that for the whole country, just the moura bride part but it seems the whole country is consumed by it. But as a friend, if you hadn’t told me, I think it would be in a rude awakening if I were to follow him home and get hit with that out of nowhere because Storren hasn’t even hinted at such things, should I tell my sisters about it?” Amara asked.
“If you feel there is a chance for them to form any kind of serious attachment, yes. I think such things are usually assumed. Because native Dorierrans, assume everyone else knows about it because Dorierra has that title, that it’s already implied and I think most don’t realize it’s the whole country, not just a tiny part of it.” You advised.
“But please don’t tell Demsey, or any of my other brothers, or especially my parents. Brothers can be so overprotective, at least English ones, they would demand that we stop all comradery or friendly conversation between us because they are all lovely and we’re just now becoming acquainted and barely even friends and I would hate for this to come between our friendship just because it’s a very stark distinction between cultures and Dauphin and Dauphine did say to keep an open mind. But I fear they would yank us away from them and they would do that just in an effort to protect us but it would be a kneejerk- overreaction, because Dorierran culture would most likely be seen as obscene by them.” Amara pleaded with you.
“Of course, I would think your brothers probably already assume the truth. English women, not so much and I would hate for any of your siblings, male or female alike to be deceived by ignorance.” You reasoned.
“Precisely.” Amara nodded.
“Come, you can help me pack for an escape now if you wish and pick out your presents yourself.” You offered her before the two of you went back into the house.
Meanwhile Benny was halfway through giving Sierge a blowjob, timing her strokes with every piece of dirt he offered on his brother.
“And..and uh, he...he’s used The Red Velvet Rope, it’s a moura whorehouse, at least twice now, he ahhh.” Sierge hissed lowly as he gritted his teeth in pleasure and gripped the armrests of the garden chair tucked neatly away inside the tall hedged with a vice like grip as the sweat of his brow beaded on his forehead with the strain not to make any other noises because every moan and keen he let loose, she stopped and pulled off and every time he stopped speaking she did the same and it was the most gloriously frustrating thing he’d ever endured, to be tortured by pleasure like this and his own pleasure chased away any guilt he had about telling Demsey’s secrets.
“He has gone there twice since he met Audra on the train a few weeks ago, he went there in search of a double for her, because he has been attracted to her since he laid eyes on her.” Sierge managed as Bennie masterfully stroked and fondled his testicles through his ballsack while her nose was buried into the thick forest of hair at the base of his dick as her breath in that area practically alighted with delight since even there, he was sweating.
“And. oh, oh ah, and, um, he found her, someone who looks remarkably like her there, according to him, even her voice was similar enough to induce a fantasy that he was fucking the real Audra and she even has the same nickname as Audra, only her name is Audra Draft,” Sierge panted as his butt cheeks were clenched so tight as he felt like she was sucking his soul out through his dick.
“And have you met her?” Bennie quickly asked before she got back to task.
“No, I’ve, oh, ah, I’ve, gods, I’ve tried, but she’s probably booked solid, the only one close there is an Audrey Rogers who works there, but she’s brunette and married to a minotaur that works there, he goes by “Draft” though. But he’s either not related or not affiliated with Audra Draft. Unless the Draft is an assumed name. Which is possible.” Sierge managed before Bennie decided that he had given her enough, for now before she doubled her efforts and in two minutes flat, he was emptying his extra large load down her throat as his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t see how Bennie was rolling her eyes and almost glaring resentfully at his manhood for just the practically incessant pumping, it was practically a torrent of cum. He was such a sweaty, hairy thing and just like any other man she had ever manipulated in her life. Claiming to be a “gentleman” but when push came shove or kiss to suck rather, just like all the others, willing to sell out his own family for his own pleasure. No more honor than the average man and nothing remarkable at all in her opinion. And he was barely able to hold out for several minutes and that was her going torturously slow for the sake of pumping information, if she had gotten right to it and kept at it, he wouldn’t last two minutes. He wouldn’t really know how to please a woman at all, all he had ever wanted was his own needs and desires sated, no matter the expense. Typical. But at least she was getting somewhere with him. Calla was moving at a snail's pace and practically twitterpated with Tzane, it was like she was a lovesick school girl still, which didn’t make sense because they were the same age, had the same training, either that or Calla was playing ‘perfectly innocent’ to get his guard down. But still, not the real moura agent she was supposed to be, and not the real moura agent Bennie was.
“Is there any chance that the woman he met there was the real Sultana Audravienne?” Bennie asked once she popped off and appraised her work. Sierge was a sweaty, indisposed mess and she gauged that it would take him no less than half an hour to come back into himself. She practically sucked the soul from him. One of her easiest blows yet before she got up and straightened up.
“Not a chance in hell. No lady worth any kind of nobility would be caught dead in a whorehouse. Plus she’s been in mourning for count Edward Morrigan, the Morrigans would bury her alive if she ever did anything to tarnish the “Morrigan family honor”. And the way Demsey and Amara carry on, they practically tried already.” Sierge said as he managed to get set straight but his whole body felt spent and tired while his head was in those blessed clouds, he was in pure ecstasy, that was the greatest blow of his life.
Bennie giggled.
“Why is that so funny?”
“Audravienne? The Saharan Viper’s greatest protege to date, who if she had stayed in the stables would have been named The Golden Saharan Viper and been the top competitor in the world of Kamoba which is if ballet met the bloodiest, fiercest war ever who is as lethal as she is beautiful, the top bride in all of the Dorierran stables, the top fighter and performer in the stables, who’s more physically fit than any racehorse, who had perfect marks in almost every single category they test for including agentry which means if she wanted to be a damn spy, she could be, who is the gold standard still in the stables, being a victim of anyone? No. Audravienne is the most lethal, devastating and the epitome of the perfect moura bride. She is no victim to anyone, not unless she got way too soft way too fast. She had the potential to bring down empires. And you’re telling me, an aged couple from England? With no royal ties, got the better hand of her? No. Impossible. You know why? Because Audravienne, physically, has rarely ever seen defeat physically and if they tried to abuse her physically she could kill everyone in the house, maids and all and make it look like the plague, if they tried to poison her even, she is immune to every disease and every poison in the world, she’s a master at poisons even. You could line all of the poisons up in the world in shot glasses and she’d shoot them all like whiskey and she’d be able to tell you which was which and tell you exactly how you managed to get all of them and while she’d be drunk off her ass by the end of it she would do it perfectly without a single mistake. Audravienne’s other grandmother, The Jade Empress, who held the last Sultanate state in her iron grip, practically wrote the book on how to manipulate everyone around you to do your bidding with pleasure and do it with the thinking that it was their own idea to begin with and Audravienne excelled at it. She is no one’s victim. Now, would I put it past her to play the victim to your brother if he’s the savior type, is he?” Bennie asked as she sat down on the bench next to him.
“He is. Painfully so.” Sierge realized.
“Then there you go. She’s been working him for weeks, playing the damsel in distress type and getting thirty thousand pounds a year to do it, she’s already confided in me that she has blackmail on the Morrigans and that’s why they’re paying her double what Edward awarded her in his will, she may have even played a helpless damsel to them and let her believe that they can hurt her. But if I’m sure about anything, is that Demsey may only see what Audra lets him see. But now that you know the truth, watch them, if his attachment to her is dangerous in your opinion, you can make him see the facts and the light now won’t you? When we get a proper Kamoba battle, everyone will see Audra’s true colors everyone always does with Komoba. And if your brother Demsey is the proper English gentleman type, he should be put off because no gentleman wants to marry an agent and no orc wants to marry a warrior greater than himself in a world where such things are shunned and frowned upon. And as far as I can tell, then it’ll be done, Demsey will lose interest, Audra will come to her senses, go to Ramsey and you and I can continue naturally then won’t we?” Bennie offered. “As, natural as can be.” Sierge grinned triumphantly.
“Well if you think of anything else “useful” it will be rewarded even more so than this.” Bennie winked as Sierge looked like he was about to explode from delight and lust.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure to be seen somewhere else, wouldn’t want to infringe upon your honor or mine.” Bennie cooed before she got up and strutted away.
“And?” Yalin and Gregori asked as Bennie turned the corner.
“Well Demsey is rather boring, but he still has the fatal flaw every man seems to have, and once Audra becomes aware of it, she’ll come to and see sense. Nothing to worry about and nothing too complicated. No damage to be undone there. Just a passing fancy and Sierge will now be a barrier on Demsey’s end.” Bennie reported.
“Excellent.” Gregori praised.
“You have something.” Yalin gestured to her chin before Bennie wiped at her chin to see a drop of cum had escaped the corner of her mouth, she had thought she had gotten it before but this one was missed.
“Thank you, good night, I have a thread I need to tie.” Bennie excused herself from their presence.
“It’s a shame she’s an orc. If she was anything else, Ramsey should be going after her, she is of the right mind.” Gregori offered to Yalin.
“It’s because she’s an orc that she’s gotten that far with the Voyambis. Besides, let Ramsey have his fun for now with Axal, once we have that Komoba battle, Ramsey will see the light and come to his senses too. Demsey will be disenfranchised, Audra’s little play of damsel in distress will be over and things will go as they need to.” Yalin allowed as they watched Bennie’s frame shrink and vanish into the gardens.
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