All you have to do is take hold of him, snugly enough to provide a friction surface but not tight. The eroticine will make him take care of the rest."

"That sounds simple enough." Keith reached for the prisoner.

He grasped slippery flesh, pleased when the man winced and tried to pull away. That should be a good sign. He followed the flinch, keeping the snug hold his thakur had recommended--and she was right, the prisoner began pumping, almost immediately accompanied by cursing and moans. For a bit, Keith remained still, getting used to the feel and rhythm. This was all he had to do, she'd said, and Keith was sure it would have the desired effect--but she wanted the man to suffer as much as a human could. Sure that there had to be a way to elicit more pain on the way to its peak, he tried modifying his grip, going with the prisoner's movements, kneading gently at the end of each thrust.

He was rewarded when moans grew louder and curses became incoherent cries. He wanted to turn, see if his thakur was pleased, but he didn't allow himself the distraction, contenting himself instead with a brief smile. He was surprised at the ease with which he'd been able to make even this sort of s.e.xual contact with another man, but his primary emotion on that subject was grat.i.tude; since his thakur clearly had no objection to man-loving, even seemed to actively approve, he had to do so as well, and it was kind of the G.o.ds to make such a drastic change so easy for him.

He was less surprised, though still a bit so, by his unexpected enjoyment of a painmaster's role, since Sandeman did have some circ.u.mstances where such was appropriate, though it had no professionals. That was a fortunate turn, since it saved him another adaptation--though if he were to serve his thakur properly in this capacity, he really ought to get some training; a true painmaster should be getting at least some screams by this time.

The prisoner's movements became faster, more urgent, and Keith smiled again. A few more seconds . . . yes, good! The prisoner convulsed, thrashing as wildly as his bonds would permit, but warrior reflexes let Keith keep his grip while the man climaxed in a prolonged series of spasms, his screams eloquent testimony to his agony. Keith felt a sense of accomplishment at that, a deep pleasure that didn't end even when the climax was over, the flesh in his hands softened slightly, and the prisoner sagged, going limp but kept from fainting by the algetin.

Keith turned to his chosen lady. "Was that satisfactory, Thakur?"

"Most satisfactory," Cortin said with unconcealed admiration. "You've just given me--all Inquisitors, once I get it published--what promises to become an extremely useful standard technique, especially with rapists. I'll see you're given full credit, of course." She smiled at Keith. "You've also changed my plans for him. That degree of pain, administered repeatedly, can be lethal--and I can't think of a more fitting end for a rapist. We'll let him drip overnight, then give him a fresh dose and see how many times he can take what he forced on others. What do you think?"

Keith was flattered that she asked his opinion, but . . . "I don't share your expertise, Thakur, so my opinion may not be valid. Still, it sounds appropriate to me."

"So be it, then." Cortin smiled at him, approvingly. "Would you like to help? You seemed to enjoy yourself as much as an Inquisitor would, and Mike doesn't have that particular quirk; he helps because he loves me, not because he likes the work."

Keith hesitated briefly before answering. "It surprises me, Thakur, that I did enjoy it. But I would not displace Captain Odeon from something that brings you two close."

Cortin looked at her second in command. "What do you think, Mike?"

"If he wants it, he's got it," Odeon replied promptly. Turning to the Sandeman, he went on. "As she says, I don't have the mental quirk that lets me like hurting people; I'd be glad to get out of the job."

"It seems I do," Keith said. "At least since she wants this one to hurt, I took a great deal of pleasure in causing him as much pain as I could."

"It's all yours, then," Odeon said promptly. "With my thanks, by the way--which I'll demonstrate later, if you want."

"In the meantime," Cortin said, "I'm hungry. Let's go up to supper."

Return to main storyline: 31. Explanation

31a. Tattoo

To Keith's amus.e.m.e.nt, the artist did his work after using a topical anesthetic, saying it was to prevent a flinch from spoiling the design.

Remaining still and with no more than minor sensations of pressure on his face, though, seemed to be making him more receptive to what had to be his thakur--the things he was feeling certainly couldn't have had their origin in a properly-raised warrior!

For one thing, the idea of the Family's s.e.xual activity no longer bothered him, even with the certainty that it would include man-loving.

His thakur's approval and enjoyment of watching such things meant he should as well, and he seemed to be making the adjustment. He might not be able to take part himself just yet, though the men on his thakur's team were beginning to seem more desirable . . . It was generous of the G.o.ds, he thought, to make even such a drastic change to his thakur's values and standards so easy for him.

Eventually the artist was finished, and handed Keith a mirror. "What do you think?"

Keith studied his cheek for a moment, then nodded. "Your skill is worthy of my thakur. I thank you."

"You're quite welcome." The artist turned, bowed to Cortin. "By Your Excellency's leave?"

"Granted; Lieutenant Degas will take you to your home or your studio, as you prefer." She turned to Degas. "Tony, give him his fee--plus a bonus for the house call and inconvenience. Double should be about right."

"I'd say so," Degas agreed. "Maybe a little extra since Keith's happy with it?"

Cortin grinned. "Triple, then. And get back as soon as you can."

"Yes, ma'am." Degas returned the grin, then escorted the artist out of the common-room.

As soon as they were gone, Keith got his first experience of Family informality; within minutes, he was the only one in the room with clothes on, and he seemed to sense his thakur's desire that he also be nude. That wasn't what she said when she smiled at him, though. "If you'd rather not join us, Keith, we'll all understand; you're free to do what you wish. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm not, Thakur." To his gratified surprise, that was true; his only discomfort was being dressed when she wasn't, and that was easy enough to correct. When he did so, he could feel her approval--and her arousal, as she looked at his genitals. "Thakur . . ."

Cortin smiled at him. "Take it easy, Keith. You're a beautiful man, and I'd like to have s.e.x with you--but I don't want to get you in just because you feel obligated from having sworn to me. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Thakur." Keith smiled. She seemed to be projecting the idea that s.e.x in any consenting form was good, but she also didn't want him doing anything he considered wrong. That was simple, since by definition nothing she wanted of him could be wrong for him, and her words confirmed what he seemed to be feeling from her. "Now?"

"We have a family religious ceremony first. I know you're not a Catholic, and this is an extension of the Catholicism practiced elsewhere, so if you'd rather not attend, I don't want you to. The choice is entirely yours."

"I appreciate that, Thakur. I don't think I'd be comfortable partic.i.p.ating, at least not yet; may I simply watch?"

"Of course. If it makes you uncomfortable, and you want to leave, go ahead."

"I will, Thakur, but I don't expect to."

Cortin smiled. "Somehow I don't expect you to, either. Right now I'm the object of that ceremony, as acting Protector, but I've been promised the true one will appear soon, so don't be upset when someone else takes over. I sure won't be; I'm looking forward to it." She grimaced. "I don't mind being the Herald, but I have to admit I don't like being Protector. It's more of a burden that I feel capable of carrying, even as long as I have."

Keith knelt, looking up at her. "If it is a burden I may free you of, Thakur, I would do so gladly."

Cortin studied him for a moment. If she'd known this might happen, she wouldn't have accepted his fealty--while she wasn't fond of being Protector, she wasn't fond of pa.s.sing the burden along to anyone else, either.

Keith was fully aware of her thought this time, and he smiled up at her. Freeing his chosen lady of an unwanted burden would be a joy, not an imposition! "You wouldn't be, Thakur--as Ranger Medart said, in accepting my oath you made me your other self. Let this part take over and rejoice in what that one finds intolerable."

"Oh, dear G.o.d." Cortin felt a sudden surge of power, her hands going to his head on what felt like their own accord. "You better mean that, because it's happening."

"I mean it with all my heart, Thakur."

Odeon watched as the two began to glow, and went slowly to his knees.

So Keith was the permanent Protector! That would be a relief for Joanie, but the Sandeman's apotheosis meant the confrontation--what Shayan called the decision point--was imminent, and that frightened him. It meant the war or ma.s.sacre she had to make some decision about was also imminent, and with Shayan afraid enough of that to promote devotions to his Adversary and His saints . . .

He was never sure how long the apotheosis took, but when it ended, there was no doubt of either Joanie's relief or Keith's new power.

What was going to happen now?

Keith rose, turning and smiling at him. "You please me, Michael, but there is much you must learn yet. It might be wise for you to visit Ranger Medart, this evening; I will conduct my own service."

"As you wish, Lord." Odeon rose and bowed, then left the common-room, grabbing a robe on the way out.

Return to main storyline: 33. Discussion 2