The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride

What was causing her touch cravings? Who or what had planted the hungry flower inside her? Why did her breasts fill and her nipples leak nectar when she was aroused? Why was she suddenly having the desperate need to be filled between her legs? What would happen to her if she wasn’t filled? What would happen if she was?

Lately she’d been so desperate, she’d begged Need to take her—which, so far, the big Kindred had declined to do. But what if he did? Would it leave some kind of permanent mark on her? Make her unable to be with any other male? Not that she wanted any other male, but these things would be good to know.

All these questions and more could be answered with just one swift glance at her personal, private information—information about her body—which ought, by rights, to be hers!

But taking that one quick glance would mean going into dangerous territory—actually entering Drung’s room, which Need had forbidden her to do. Lan’ara had promised the big Kindred to stay far away from the Trollox’s territory—a promise she’d never anticipated having difficulty keeping.

I should go, she told herself. Just ignore it and go.

But the surface of the liquid crystal screen beckoned her, winking like a knowing eye. Come on, it seemed to say. Come on, Lan’ara—I have all the answers. Come look for just a moment.

Lan’ara’s fists clenched in frustration.

On one hand, she wanted to know about herself—had to know what was happening to her body—didn’t she? But on the other hand, she had promised Need never to go into the Trollox’s room, which was terribly dangerous.

She bit her lip, torn by indecision.

What should she do?

Forty-Three

A quick peek, Lan’ara told herself. Just a quick peek and then I’ll get out of here and run back to Need’s quarters.

Stepping lightly and quickly, now that she had made up her mind, she went swiftly to the Trollox’s door and pushed it further open.

Inside, was a rat’s nest of filth. Dirty clothes, crumpled blankets, and crusty dishes, foul with rotting bits of food, all littered the floor. The smell was horrible and Lan’ara took a step back, her hand going involuntarily to her nose. Gods and Goddesses, it reeked in here! How could anyone—even a Trollox—bear it?

Holding her nose, she continued her quick, visual inspection of the room. She was possessed by a dreadful kind of curiosity—the same kind that makes you examine the bottom of your shoe after stomping down on a nasty, hairy spider. It was so awful she just had to look.

Aside from a small cook station which contained a food-crusted heating element, there wasn’t much to see in the room, besides the sleeping platform and a rack with an array of strangely phallic objects.

Lan’ara frowned. What were those?

A flimsy paper periodical on the floor beside the bed answered her question. When she kicked it over with her foot, Lan’ara saw a luridly colored image of a humanoid girl with long, dark wavy hair chained naked to a bed. Between her legs, one of the metallic, phallic objects could be seen protruding. There was a look of agony on her face.

“Stretchers sized to make the female of your choice open enough for your shaft!” read the crude printing at the bottom of the picture. “Breed her deep and plant your heir!”

Lan’ara shivered in horror and disgust as she realized what she was looking at. These must be the “stretchers” Drung had been talking about using on her. If Need hadn’t bought her, she’d probably be in the same awful position as the girl in the periodical…

Stop it—don’t think about that! she told herself sternly. This isn’t why you’re here.

True enough. It was time to get down to getting some answers about herself.

Her file was lying on the sagging mattress—its black fame and liquid crystal display winking at her invitingly. Lan’ara snatched it up and tapped the shiny surface with one finger, the way she’d seen the school nurse do time and again.

At once, her name swam into the center of the screen. Only her first name though, she noted.

Lan’ara—a graduate of Twyleth Tigg Academy, the graceful script said.

Frowning, Lan’ara tapped the screen again. The first letters faded and a new script began to write itself before her eyes.

Congratulations on your purchase of a Twyleth Tigg Bride! (it read.) Your new bride comes with a few instructions for use before you can enjoy her to her fullest capacity so please read carefully.

Lan’ara’s frown deepened. What in the Seven Hells—as Need would say—was this? Her file read like a set of instructions for a mechanized toy or an exotic new pet. It made her sound less like a person and more like an expensive acquisition—a thing.

She read on.

For your convenience and pleasure, your Twyleth Tigg Bride has been injected with Lust Bacterium, the script continued. This ensures that once you touch her intimately, her bond with you will begin to grow. She will begin to crave your touch and her honey, (should you care to taste it) will grow sweet. Her breasts will swell with nectar which may leak from her nipples while you are touching her. Do not worry—this is a completely normal side effect of the Lust Bacterium in action. The nectar is completely safe to ingest, as are your new bride’s other juices.