Istanza

Silra pushed herself upright a moment later and sat back on her haunches, then turned to face Leeann, lowering herself onto her knees.

"Mistress, is something wrong, Mistress?"

Leeann glanced down at her distantly, looked at her flushed face and wide eyes. They were so beautiful, those big eyes. Beautiful, youthful, but full of some deeper intelligence, something that Leeann had never seen in a Koda before.

"Politics." She said softly. "You wouldn't understand." She added.

"Mistress, I'm not here to understand, Mistress. I'm here for you, Mistress. For your pleasure, Mistress."

"Well in that case, while you're down there, girl..." Leeann began, and let her eyes finish the sentence. Silra understood. She leant forwards, extended her tongue, began to lick Leeann's belly as her fingertips worked at the buttons on her shorts. Leeann helpfully closed her legs once the buttons were undone, lifted her hips from the bed so that Silra could ease the shorts down her legs. Once they were at her ankles she leant back on the bed, bunched the rough blanket up under the back of her head, reopened her legs, and sighed lazily.

A moment later she gave a deep breath, as Silra's skilled lips kissed her clit. She hadn't thought she was really in the mood, until she'd looked down to see Silra's big round eyes looking back up at her; then all her frustrations over Danielle had been forgotten, and the immediacy of the moment had returned. Only this time she didn't need to attack some poor Koda's defenceless buttocks with her cane or penetrate her with chilli-oiled fingers to get herself off; this time just knowing that Silra was between her legs was enough. Silra's lips, Silra's tongue, Silra's soft hands gently smoothing her inner thighs as her mouth did what it did best...

Her breaths equalised, synchronised with Silra's slow rhythm. She could feel the blood rushing to the place where Silra licked her, that little spot between her legs where it all happened. Licks turned to sucks, sucks turned to kisses, kisses turned to licks. Every one gave her a different sensation, every sensation as delightful as the last. She loved them all, and she loved Silra's lips for what they could do to her.

"Oh, good girl, good girl." Leeann sighed heavily. "Good, good girl. Oh, girl, I don't know how you do it, but you're making me ready to come so quickly..."

It was happening already. Damn, it always happened so fast when Silra was doing it! Had it been so long since she had had a proper fuck that she had lost all of her resistance? Well, it had been several years... Several years of forcing herself upon Koda, instead of waiting for one who would do it willingly. That was what made all the difference.

And Silra did it so well!

So close already! Damn, damn, damn! I used to enjoy the build so much, and now I can't even...

The rest of her thoughts were cut short as her orgasm exploded between her legs and overwhelmed the rest of her body. She had tried to deny it, tried to resist, tried to hold back as long as possible, but there was something that Silra could do with her tongue that was out of this galaxy. It blew her mind, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Good girl..." Leeann finally mumbled, when her vision had returned and she had calmed down enough to take a breath. "Good, good girl."

Silra planted a few delicate kisses on her clit, which still throbbed in post-orgasmic bliss, then stood up, climbed on top of her and wrapped her arms under her.

"You're a sweet girl." She said after a while, as Silra's cheek nestled in between her leather-bound breasts.

Silra said nothing, just held onto her in a full-body embrace.

"It's nice, being held by you." She continued. Again there was no reply. "I wish I could take you back to bed with me. You're warm."

Silra was quiet, but Leeann felt a little movement on her chest where Silra's mouth rested, and knew that she was smiling deeply. Such a sweet girl... What did I do to be worthy of such a sweet girl?

She sat upright a moment later, realizing with a sinking heart that she would have to slink back to her bedroom alone. She recalled that she had not quite taken Silra all the way to orgasm, although the girl didn't appear to be complaining, and besides – she said liked to be punished, maybe that was punishment enough.

Silra disentangled from her torso and sat back on the bed. Still she said nothing, just stared at the floor.

"I'll leave the salve with you." Leeann said. "If you get sore in the night, rub some more in. Put some on in the morning, before you go to work." She stood, hitched up her shorts from her ankles and fastened them. "Rub it in until it's all dissolved." She made her way to the door, then turned back one last time to look at Silra's big round eyes, staring at her from under her dishevelled hair. "And no orgasm. Don't come." She added, before slipping out of the door.

Leeann lay in her large bed for some time, tossing and turning underneath the black silk. Silra invaded her thoughts; her smiling face, her pale thighs, her puffy sex, glistening with heat and red with soreness. Such thoughts would have left her happy, had she not been fighting them. She didn't want to get attached. She didn't want to have to face losing Silra when the Sect decided she was going beyond her duties. She didn't want attachment, she didn't want complication. Her job had become hard enough as it was, although she had long tried to deny it.

It wasn't that she no longer enjoyed being Istanza, for she did – that was part of what being Istanza meant. It meant that she had a deep-rooted sexual need to hurt others in order to satisfy her cravings. But there was something else, something she had long denied. Some deeper need for human contact, for emotional bonding. Silra represented a dangerous belief: the belief that love still exists in the universe; a belief that Leeann had also long denied.

The trouble was that she wanted Silra beside her, in this big, cold, empty bed, right now. She wanted her there not to torture, to hurt, to maim, but to hold. She didn't want to hurt her. She didn't want to fuck her. She just wanted to be near her.

She was entering a dangerous place indeed.

Eventually she became tired despite her spinning thoughts, and tried to find things to put them out of her mind. Nothing worked. The only things that could push her worries out of her mind were thoughts of Silra herself; thoughts of her face, her body. Eventually she focused on those, held them in her mind's eye, when she was too tired to retain her self-control and push them away. Her heart fluttered. She rolled over and embraced her pillow, buried her face into it as if it was Silra's milky neck. She held it and squeezed it and nuzzled it and loved it. She sighed deeply, happily. A moment later her grip lessened, a smile playing about her lips, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

The old page turned with a sound like rustling leaves against a sudden gust of wind from outside. A storm had raged all night long, waking Leeann over and over again; she thought of Silra each time she woke, alone in her cell, freezing cold and desperate for sleep so that she could escape her imprisonment for just a few hours.

Eventually, when the small hours of the morning swept like distant ghosts through the dark corridors of the palace, she had given up on sleep and dragged herself out of bed, dressed in her leather uniform and draped a long velvet cloak over her shoulders, and set off through the labyrinth of empty corridors to the palace's old library.

She had homed in on the lectern that stood in the centre of the library on a dais lit dimly from a light well in the ceiling; although it was still dark outside the merest hint of starlight was gathered efficiently enough by mirrors above to cast a pale glow over the ancient Book of Bane that was chained to the lectern.

Another strong gust blew outside, disturbing dust motes in the air and tickling Leann's legs with cold. She drew her velvet cloak tighter around her and picked up her position on the page. She had travelled to the library in darkness, but she read by a small battery-powered torch, carefully highlighting the words as her eyes scanned the dry page. Its batteries were at long last dying, and the chance of getting new ones in the palace, where most electrical appliances were banned and getting the torch alone had been sheer hell, was almost non-existent.

So many words, gathered together in one foul old book, each passing swiftly under the yellowed beam as she traced across the dry page. She was a non-believer, and always had been. Belief in the Book of Bane was not a prerequisite for Istanza, but everything in the palace was done by the Book – if there was a loophole in the Book, then she could legitimately exploit it. She had a nagging feeling that there would be one, and an hour's careful scanning, indexing, and flicking between pages was all that it took to find the proof.

It was hidden in the pages that defined the purpose of Koda. They were what the Book was all about – a concept of original sin taken to the extreme. All women are inherently flawed, the Book decreed (over several dozen pages of longwinded descriptions that Leeann cared not to remember), and all must be punished repeatedly in this life so that they may gain a place in the afterlife. The Sect saw it as its duty to see that heaven was not short of fresh young female souls to accompany the old priests who ascended there.

It was right there among those pages. Koda were not just to be punished, but they were also slaves: slaves to serve a purpose. A Koda who showed promise or skill in a certain task may be deemed worthy of transferral to a position where she may have responsibility for that task, and ascend from the rank of Koda.

Of course, it was so obvious. That was what had happened to Leeann, all those years ago. She had been Koda, she had been put to work in the gardens or in the halls or wherever she was required, until her Istanza trainer had caught her with her hand between her legs while she watched another Koda being brutally punished for some infringement or other.

"She may be Istanza!" Had been the whispers of the priests, and sure enough, she was taken from the dungeons, given a small room on the upper levels of the palace, and was ordered to follow and learn from an older Istanza. She had taken to it like a duck to water. After repressing her sexuality for so long in the dungeon levels, she had exploded over her underlings in a violent rampage of whips, shackles and collars. She had graduated quickly, earned her plush bedroom and her leather uniform and all the respect and privilege that went with it. Along with, so it seemed, the right to take on an apprentice from the ranks of Koda.

It was there, in ancient crumbling print on the parchment pages. Istanza had the right to take on an apprentice from any Koda of her choice.

She hurried back to her bedroom, bare feet numb on the cold stone floor. Shadows seemed to loom at her from the corridors and passages deep in the palace, but she ignored them. She had never been afraid of the dark, and she knew her way around the old place almost as well as she knew her way around her own body. She reached her bedroom in short order, closed the door and made her way into her waiting bed. It was cold and empty, but one of her pillows remained where she had left it, lengthways down the mattress like a sleeping partner. She looked at it longingly and imagined it was Silra, asleep among the silk, warm and soft and inviting. She slipped into the bed, spooned up against the pillow and fantasized tiredly about drifting off to sleep next to the proud girl.

The pre-dawn light was playing faintly around the high windows as she settled, and she sighed tiredly, knowing she would have to wake soon – but she was excited. Come dawn, she would set things in motion, and by sunset she would have an apprentice.

It took no time at all to get Silra transferred to her as an apprentice. The Sect did not go in for paperwork; besides their ancient library and their even older holy book, there was little paper in the entire palace. Leeann was careful to go to the right places; she avoided talking to Julian, the senior priest who was directly responsible for her position in the Sect, for she knew that he was already wary of her, having had to deal with her on the two occasions that she had attempted to leave the palace. No, he would no doubt be suspicious – she took her transfer request to the junior mage who handled the Koda's work assignments. He made little comment, simply gave the order to a guard, and it was done.

Leeann had an apprentice. Leeann had Silra.

The rest of the day seemed to drag, like a deep-space journey on a privateer freighter with no facilities other than a cramped cabin with an uncomfortable bed. She silently cursed herself for rising so early, but she was eager to get the transfer over and done with, in case it had proved difficult, in case she had to jump through hoops or show that Silra showed the predisposition to be worthy of the rank of Istanza. It left her with little to do but watch the Koda for the rest of the day, wandering the dull corridors of the palace, climbing the towers to see which one gave the worst performance, to see which one would be worthy of her attentions that evening.

She wasn't really in the mood for torturing nameless Koda, but it was her duty, and she had to keep up that front for as long as possible. If it meant that afterwards she could take Silra back to her bedroom with her then it would be worth it.

She twiddled her thumbs, clicked her heels, wandered in circles and gazed out of observation towers at the toiling Koda for hour after dull hour, until eventually the end of the day drew near and she had an excuse to retire indoors, to eat and to prepare her results for the evening's ritual torture. Collating the results used to be something that she anticipated with a racing heart and an urgent tingling between her legs, but this night she was too preoccupied for such excitement. Besides, there seemed to be only one body that was able to arouse her interests right now, and that was Silra's.

Results tallied and food eaten, Leeann made her way to the dungeons where her Koda awaited. She took her tools from the rack – tonight a flogger, a spreader bar, a ball gag – and wordlessly entered the Koda's cell. The Koda was half-asleep, obviously drained from her day's work outside in the cold. She would be more drained by the morning, perhaps so drained that she would not be able to complete her day's tasks and would again earn Leeann's attentions; and so the cycle would continue, until her body finally gave out from sheer fatigue and she ascended to heaven. Leeann found herself hoping for the first time that the Book of Bane really did hold some truth, so that at least there would be some reward for the poor creature at the end of it all.

She gazed down at the stirring girl, wondering whether in three or four or fives days time she would be watching her body carried reverentially on a wooden board in a funeral procession. Strange, the Sect treated dead Koda with a respect like no other; strange that they could not be so thoughtful while the Koda lived.

It wasn't long before the Koda seemed to realize what was in store for her. Perhaps Leeann had already dealt with her before – it had only been a few days, and already she had forgotten; all Koda but Silra looked alike to her. The girl's lip quivered in time with her hands as she shrank back against the wall, pulling the rough blanket protectively around her neck.

"On your feet." Leeann ordered, although her heart wasn't really in it. When the girl did not obey she stalked towards her, yanked the blanket free and tossed it across the room. "On your feet!"

She grabbed the girl's wrists, pulled her forcefully upright, dragged her whimpering across the room and snapped the shackles that hung from the ceiling around her arms. She turned the crank on the wall, lifted the girl's hands high above her head, left her hanging. A moment later she had ripped her robe from her and attached the spreader bar, so that she teetered on tiptoes, unable to find her balance.

The ball-gag silenced some of her whimpering, and it made what remained sound hollow and blubbery and unattractive. Leeann felt vaguely repulsed, and with distaste in her throat set her flogger about the girl's back, legs and buttocks. Her muffled cries echoed from the walls, tears mixed with drool from her gag and trailed onto the floor in long streamers. Her skin turned from cold pale white through sore red to bruised purple in the time Leeann had the strength and the stomach to continue, until eventually her arms tired and the yelps that followed each lash began to diminish, indicating that she was no longer giving it her best.

Leeann was tiring fast. Too little sleep, too much anticipation and too much worry was taking its toll on her. She gave a few last strikes, drawing on her deepest reserves, grunting with effort, before she tossed the flogger into the corner of the cold stone cell and released the gag buckle around the Koda's head. The girl coughed a little on her own drool, blew her mouth clear, whimpered tiredly. Leeann deftly removed the spreader from her ankles and lowered the ratchet a little. The girl's shoulders cracked as they returned to their normal position; she was generous, allowing the girl's hands to come almost level with her navel before she locked off the ratchet, picked up her tools and left the cell. The girl would sleep upright, if she slept at all. Leeann wasn't really in the mood to care either way.

Silra's cell was only a few paces away, but she had to divert to the rack to stow away her things before she could break the good news. She took long paces, her heels echoing around the corridor as she moved. Finally she found herself in front of Silra's cell, heart racing. What if Silra had changed her mind? What if she was entering the world of the Koda already, that withdrawn, lifeless headspace where their minds eventually went while their bodies worked and bled? What if she was... No, there was no point in delaying and making up reasons to turn away.

She drew back the bar, pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the cell.

Silra was asleep, curled in her thin blankets, head buried in her bunched fists. Leeann walked as quietly as she could across the cell, lowered herself onto the bed and looked over Silra's peaceful face. Her breaths were slow and quiet, her eyes closed and still. Leeann gave a soft sigh, and Silra's bare skin rippled in its draught. Her eyelids flickered, her lashes twitched, and then her eyes popped quickly open.

Silra looked up, her gaze locking onto Leeann's. She shifted, turned over quickly, wiped her eyes.

"Mistress, I'm sorry, Mistress. I was so tired, I fell asleep, Mistress." She mewed faintly.

"Hey, don't worry, girl." Leeann said softly. "You're awake now."

Silra looked pained for a moment, tried a few alternating expressions, before settling on one that Leeann could not fully read. "I'm very tired, Mistress." She said. "I was worked very hard today. I don't think I can stay awake for you, Mistress. Please forgive me, Mistress."

Leeann gave a smile, reached out to shift a stray lock from Silra's face. Silra shied away. "I said don't worry. I've got good news for you. You won't have to work tomorrow."

Silra's brow wrinkled.

"You're going to come and stay with me tonight. You're going to work with me from now on."

"Mistress?"

"It'll be easy. It'll be alright. Come on, get up, you're going to stay in my bed tonight."

Silra stood from her bed, a little reluctantly, Leeann thought. She adjusted her robe and then looked at Leeann as if to hint that she was ready. Leeann took her hand and guided her through the door, locked it from the outside, then set off through the palace corridors to the plush upper levels, where thick carpets covered the flagstone floors and the walls were free of rising damp. Silra looked out of place in her grey garb – Koda were only allowed into the upper palace when accompanied by a driver, usually on cleaning duties – but Silra would be a special exception. She would no longer be Koda – she would be apprentice Istanza.