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"Denna, Cara there you are."

Darken Rahl turns away from the window caved into the massive stone-wall of his palace. The sun bathes the room in the last rays of its dying, golden light. Slowly, his dark eyes leave the in training battling soldiers outside on the field to settle on his two most favored Mord'Sith.

"Lord Rahl," both of them greet their master with a short bow, that only Mord'Sith seem to perform in true submissive perfection.

Both are clad in custom red leather, shining as if polished the minute before they stepped through the door. Their hair is done as from a proper Mord'Sith to be expected, braids tight and neat, every unruly strand of blond hair forced in its rightful place. Standing at attention, they wait for their Lord and Master to reveal the reason he summoned them here, especially them together, both for different reasons.

"There is a matter I need taken care of," Rahl says, while his fingers graze nervously down the side of his face, coming to rest atop his lower lip. "Travel to the temple in the southern region. You are to find the person, who is betraying my faith and loyalty." Rahl takes an agitated breath, then continues, "the one hiding in the shadows, beneath the warm blanket of the Sisterhood of the Agiel. Leave at once, all the necessary preparations have already been made."

"My Lord," Denna purrs, as she makes a pointed step closer to her Lord, invading his personal space just so much she is sure he will forgive her, "I do not need anyone's assistance, send only me to handle it all by myself."

"Denna," he drawls haughtily. Cupping her cheek with a hand, stroking softly with his thumb over her flawless skin. "I know you are very capable on your own, but I have made my decision. You both will go--together." As he walks back to the arched window and dismisses them thereby, Denna flicks a hard glance in Cara's direction. Her sister stands with crossed arms in front of her chest and smirks. The only desire Mistress Denna has in this particular moment, is to wipe the self-satisfied grin off her face.

 




It is only a half-days ride into their designated journey, but it is one that goes by in absolute silence. The resistant-fighters, approaching ambush-style from a nearby copse, are for both Mord’Sith a more than welcome distraction. Shouts like, "It will be a pleasure to tear Darken Rahl's whores into pieces!" are heard and Cara chuckles darkly at Denna's reply, who is already dismounting her horse with Agiels at the ready. "But the pleasure is all mine."

Half a candle-mark later, Denna and Cara are alone once more, excecpt for the eight men lying dead to their feet. Panting hard, Cara turns to Denna, who has been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. As she looks over, her sister is fiddling with the front part of her leathers. The corset and the smoother layer beneath are definitely a goner. Not particularly unamused, Cara states, "you are hurt..", to Denna's obvious dismay to be seen in a state of disarray.

"It's nothing!" Denna barks, trying to pull the torn parts of her leathers back together. "No more than a scratch!" She reaches down for one of her Agiels, that had been knocked from her grasp during battle. As she straightens again to secure the weapon back in its holder at her waist, Cara's eyes are momentarily fixed to the spot where Denna has suffered the delicate cut on her sternum. Memorized, she can’t tear her eyes away, as a drop of blood makes its way down over her firm stomach, leaving a dark red trace in its path. Cara’s gaze follows until it disappears from her sight at last, blending in with the red of Denna's leathers low on her waist.

Denna, watching Cara being watched herself, fakes a cough."Cara." She says languidly, when the other Mord'Sith fails to react.

Coming out of her haze, Cara snaps back to the situation at hand. Looking up she notices the slight devilish curl of Denna's dark painted lips. Being caught starring at Denna so openly is reason enough to chide herself instantly. “What?"

"Enjoying the view, huh?" Denna drawls suggestively, while her index-finger traces ever so slowly the trail of blood that has marked her pale skin.

Cara rolls her eyes in annoyance, rather at herself than at Denna. "You would like that, wouldn’t you?!" She counters, refusing to show how well Denna's statement has hit its mark. “Pretentious much?!"

Denna only smirks wider--and says nothing.

 




Some time later, as they are about to continue on their journey, it becomes clear that the damage to Denna's armor is far worse than at first assumed. Involuntary they stop at the next town to find someone qualified and with the means to repair Denna's torn leathers. They end up at the full to the brim towns Inn, that is gapingly empty by the time the two Mord’Sith reach the counter.

"Is there somebody selling leather goods in this town?" Cara addresses the tavern owner behind the wooden counter without dealing with pleasantries. Denna gives a bored yawn.

"No," he answers, already shaking like a fluttering leaf in the wind. Cara looks over to Denna imploringly and holds her gaze for a moment longer than the owner of the tavern is comfortable with. After, she places her Agiel ostentatiously on the counter top.

"And do say, wherever may I find one then?"

His gaze fixes on her Agiel and his mouth opens as if to answer but no words pass his lips.

"I asked a simple question," Cara says impassively. Her hand closes around the shaft of her Agiel and the sing-song-tune of a thousand tormented screams is released--like heavy scent--into the air. "I should warn you, I am not one to be patient."

"The next trader is in Dunmore, a two days ride north." The voice does not belong to the man in front of Cara, but to his wife, who is placing two filled-up mugs on the counter. "We don't want any trouble." She adds unflinchingly, meeting Cara's gaze head on.

Cara growls, "A two days ride in the wrong direction?!"

Denna only shrugs with a tranquility Cara envies her for. “Why Cara, are you afraid you actually need to ride at more than leisurely pace?”

Cara deliberately ignores her.

Noticing Denna's ripped garments, the woman disappears through a nearby door, only to appear a few moments later with an almond colored gown, placing it on the counter. Addressing Denna she says, "You can have one of mine, until your leather is repaired."

"I'd rather walk bare than wear the dress of a common wench," Denna spits out, disgusted by the mere thought of it. She reaches for the offered mug on the counter instead. With the motion, the last laces that held the upper part of her armor together, rip apart.

The tavern owner and his wife gasp embarrassment, hurriedly averting their gazes from the bared Mord'Sith. Amused, she addresses Denna, who sips from her drink, utterly indifferent to her recent promiscuity.

"And I believe you will have to then." Cara's smirk grows even wider, "But I doubt that the common towns-people will complain about the show."

The platinum blonde growls and fists the gown in her hand, "A single wrong word from you, my dear Sister, and you will be sorry."

 




One and a half day later, Cara and Denna finally arrive at their original destination, the Mord'Sith temple in the southern region of D’Hara. Not bothering with the two days ride, as Denna had something—albeit improper--to wear and her leathers could be repaired in the other temple anyway.

A dark-haired Mord'Sith already stands at attention as Cara and Denna approach.

"Sister." Cara gives her a short nod in acknowledgment, before she dismounts gracefully from her horse, closely followed by Denna.

“You brought your own pet!?" The dark-haired Mord'Sith asks somewhat irritated as her gaze falls on Denna.

"I'm most certainly no ones pe-“, Denna growls, but is interrupted as Cara backhands her straight across the face. Denna’s gaze turns deadly.

"Of course you are, pet." Cara insists in an adjuring voice, hoping that Denna will get the hint. If she and Denna are to find out what circumstances lead Lord Rahl to believe, that a traitor is amongst their sisters in this temple, it certainly couldn't hurt to have one of them investigating on each side. Unfortunately for Denna that she had to face the bitter fate being on the unpleasant side, but was it not her own choice to wear that silly gown of slavery in the first place?

Cara smirks darkly. She knows that Denna is as eager as she is not to fail Lord Rahl and prove herself to him. But she also knows only too well from personal experience, that Denna was one of her sisters with the highest self-esteem and pride--that yet is to be bested.

Her head being slightly turned to the left, Cara observes Denna out of the corners of her eyes, as she addresses the other Mord'Sith, who is regarding the interaction with rather stoic interest.

"I have not finished training her - yet." Cara sort of explains Denna's defiant behavior to the other Mord'Sith. The smirk that threatens to break through, as she watches Denna's jaw turn white under the pressure of the blonde's teeth, she is barely able to hide.

"She is still quite bothersome," Cara adds only for her own sadistic enjoyment, to watch Denna's facial expression harden once more. Denna might not welcome this turn of events, but she has never been too hot-headed to not see the bigger picture. Or even accept some minor inconveniences to benefit by later.

The other Mord'Sith narrows her eyes. "Then why did you bring her here?"

This time Cara smirks for good and states the only answer for that question, "to serve me of course," her eyes meet Denna's, "in all ways a pleasure servant has to offer."

Denna’s eyes widen and Cara notices with a spreading feeling of pure joy how her jaw muscles start to twitch. Oh, Mistress Denna is not amused. But Cara does not care, she is enjoying herself immensely. And she has decided to savor every delicious moment, while it lasts.

“She must serve you quite extraordinary then; even when she looks a bit fragile,” the dark-haired Mord’Sith assumes, eying Denna's body from top to bottom while circling her. "I would like to experience myself, how versed in the arts of pleasure she really is."

This is it. Denna laughs bitterly and is about to tell the other Mord'Sith, that the only thing she can experience is Denna shoving her Agiel up her ass, but before she can utter a word, Cara's hand is on her mouth, squeezing it shut.

"She can please you in ways you cannot imagine." Cara purrs, only to have Denna biting down on her hand. She shoots Denna a stern look, who is looking with an expression of sheer innocence back at her. Cara holds Denna’s eyes for a second longer before releasing her grip. “What are you doing?” Denna whispers furiously.

"That is for me to know and you to find out, my favorite pet." Cara says and winks.

The other Mord'Sith--oblivious of the twisted Mistress and pet relationship--smiles pleased, full of anticipation for Cara's assertion to come true. “I will take her to the dungeons for now, to stay with the other slaves until you require her services.”

“Mistress.." Denna hisses through clenched teeth, choking a little as she forces the appellation over her lips. Ordering Cara how to answer with a shake of her head.

Smiling devilishly, Cara replies without hesitation, "Sounds good to me." Denna's brows get lost in her hairline. Cara looks at her once more before she nods to the other Mord’Sith , turns on her heel and walks down the entrance corridor.

“Mistress," in a last ditch attempt Denna calls after her, "are you quite certain I cannot be of assistance?”Her tone is hard and demanding, even disguised in the beg of a slave--keen to only please her Mistress--that sends an uncomfortable shiver down Cara’s spine.

She turns once again. Denna looks--in her simple light dress with the hint of cleavage--far from the fearsome Mord'Sith, Cara usually envisions when she thinks of Denna. By now Denna's cheeks are slightly tinted pink, her hands clench tightly to fists beside her body. Cara can tell, Denna is about to burst any minute.

And she would love to be around for that, but she has her new chambers to inspect.

"Always so eager to please me," Cara drawls more amused than is probably good for her. She meets turbulent blue eyes with a barely disguised smile, "but pleasure must wait I am afraid," her eyes twinkle devilishly. “I am sure your time will come."

Cara addresses the other Mord'Sith. "Take her away."

 




After hours of strolling through the temple, talking to the other Mord'Sith, Cara finds herself alone in her assigned quarters. Its as sparsely furnished as in every other temple of the Mord'Sith and Cara could easily pretend to be in her own chambers back at home, if it were not for the different arrangement. Despite her best efforts, she is not a hint closer of finding any indication of danger or sufficient evidence that may lead to the assumption, that a traitor could hide among her sisters in this temple. She had sent for Denna, hoping that she was more successful in obtaining new insights. Denna had always been a master in gaining information - and plenty ways of persuasion.

A knock on the door interrupts Cara musings. “Enter", she answers the request and turns to watch the familiar dark-haired Mord'Sith that had welcomed them step into the room, along with--a now collard--Denna. Delicious. Cara marvels at the sight, this mission is getting better and better. Only then she notices the bloody split on Denna's lip.

"What happened to her face?" Cara demands. “She is of no use to me, when her face is damaged."

The Mord'Sith flinches at Cara's harsh tone. “She steadfastly refused to be collared. But my sisters and I took care of it--eventually."

"How many of your sisters were needed to accomplish that?" Cara asks, honestly interested in the answer while she closes the distance between them.

"Five."

"Really," Cara takes the chain connected to the collar from the Mord'Sith and her eyes meet Denna's, whose expression can't be other described than smug. “Five?" It sounds more like a statement of appreciation, than an actual question, but the Mord'Sith confirms it anyway. "Yes, Mistress."

“Well, well… see to it that she is not harmed again. Now, leave us."

The other Mord'Sith turns on her heel and exits the room, closing the wooden door behind her. Cara stands in front of Denna, her grip tightens around the metal chain in her hand, as she wraps it over and over around her hand, pulling Denna closer.

"Did you find something out, pet?"

Denna steps forward menacingly and growls "I'm not your pet." Then walks away from Cara, only for being yanked back, by the chain still resting in Cara's hand. “As long as there is a collar around your neck, I am the one holding it and we`re in this temple, I fear you are." Cara's hand closes around Denna's collar and yanks her closer. "Please don't forget that."

Denna is strangling her with the chains before the last word of that sentence even rings out in the room. At least Cara has the mental image of exactly that happening in her mind. But Denna only narrows her eyes, nudging her lower lip with her tongue. Cara waits for her sisters contemplation to be over.

"Call me pet again, Cara, and I will end you." Taking a step back, Denna adds."Furthermore, I found nothing."

"Me neither," Cara admits reluctantly. “The only place left, where we could find something of importance would be the office of the Head Mistress."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Denna asks with a raised brow, "let's go!"

 

 




"Take off your gown!" Cara huffs, fingers already working to loose the buckles of her own leathers with the speed of exercised practice.

Denna shakes her head. "Under no circumstances I am taking off my clothes for this."

"Denna, we don’t have time!" Cara yells, sounding desperate. "Take it off!"

Cara and Denna had been rummaging through hundreds of papers, boxes and the wooden desk in the office of the Mord'Sith in charge, as Cara had heard the main door in the corridor closing. Unmistakable the sign they only had seconds left before being caught in a room they had no business in.

Denna rolls her eyes, but finally opens the few buttons of her dress, sliding it unceremoniously from her shoulders. She stares at Cara.

"I know that my physical attributes are to die for," Denna deadpans, "but even they won't be able to safe us now."

"You shouldn't be talking so much," Cara leans against the edge of the wooden desk and motions for Denna to come closer, "Over here and for the Creators sake be quick about it!"

Denna rolls her eyes but obliges, coming to a halt in front of Cara, only to being shoved roughly to her knees. Cara's fingers open her belt and with a single motion pushes her pants down to her ankles. Her eyes find Denna's, who is looking up at her with a disbelieving expression.

Cara smirks, spreading her legs, "I should give your mouth another occupation."

Denna raises an incredulous brow. "You have truly gone mad, if you think I'm going down on you now."

Cara bends down and fists Denna's wavy tresses. “You seem to have forgotten about our conversation, you do as I say. Or explain to Lord Rahl why you failed this mission."

Denna's more than likely sarcastic reply gets lost, when Cara yanks her head unceremoniously forward, as soon as she hears voices from the corridor. Cara groans when Denna's lips make contact with her most sensitive skin, the spark of arousal igniting a sudden desire inside of her.

Whether it is the feel of Denna's lips on her sex or the sheer sight of having Mistress Denna kneeling naked before her, Cara can’t tell which is kindling an actual want.

"You may begin now," Cara says patronizingly, to prevail upon Denna who has yet to prove her consummate skill. Denna only chuckles, but Cara feels it vibrating through her entire body, only to intensify the burning sensation.

Cara's grip on Denna's hair tightens, as Denna lips begin to move ever so slightly, trading one hand through Denna's hair, she uses the other as leverage to brace herself on the table behind her.

As entire quad of Mord'Sith enter the room all questions of 'what are you doing here' die away in surprised gasps and some appreciating growls. Much like Cara had expected in the first place.

Denna seems to take this as her cue and plunges her tongue deep inside Cara’s folds with unprecedented vigor. Cara grips the edge of the table hard, groaning, as she tries not to lose her grip. With all effort she can muster, she pushes Denna away from her now throbbing heat. Denna's smile is complacent, as she licks over her lips appreciatively. Her eyes never leaving Cara's--twinkling devilishly, she husks, “Have I pleased you, Mistress?"

Cara groans. Were it not for the other Mord'Sith in the room, Denna would be panting, moaning her name in a matter of moments. It is not that she likes Denna. Not at all. But even she can’t deny her otherworldly allure that is affecting her more than she ever thought possible.

Cara forces herself into a standing position--ignoring the way her legs tremble--and pulls Denna close, edging her thigh between Denna's thighs. If Denna likes to admit it or not, the wetness Cara can feel on her skin is betraying any otherwise claimed statement that Denna might voice in denial of her own involvement . Cara moves her thigh and a low whimper escapes without permission. "Not yet, but I’ll allow you another try."

 

 




Even before the door of her room falls into the lock, Cara's hands are entangled in Denna's hair, crashing their lips together. The kiss is hard and urgent, Cara marvels at the feel of Denna's soft lips against her own, groans when she pushes her tongue past Denna's lips and their tongues finally move against each other in an illicit dance. She can still taste herself on Denna's tongue and the throbbing ache between her legs only seems to get worse.

Tightening her grip on Denna's neck, she pulls the other Mord’Sith towards the bed, seemingly unable to server the connection of their lips. Her other hand pulls and yanks at Denna's only partially closed dress until its ripping and lastly pooling at the blonde's feet. She pushes Denna backwards until she is falling onto the sheets and her bare back hits the mattress. Cara is on her, straddling Denna's hips, as soon she discharges of her leathers. Strong hands find Denna's wrists, holding them tight above the blonde's head on the pillow. One hand holds them in place, while the other moves south. Denna is deliciously wet for her.

Cara meets Denna's gaze as her fingers slide over the length of her sex, "Mistress Denna," Cara mocks, "It seems like you are more than ready to be my pet." Her fingers brush the sensitive numb she finds already swollen, and Denna only gasps instead of managing a reply.

Feather light touches everywhere, but Cara’s fingers are only teasing, spreading wetness around, applying pressure but never where its wanted--needed--most and Denna growls, calling attention to her rising frustration.  Cara wants her to beg, wants Denna to laud her name when she reaches her peek, wants Denna to carry the remembrance of their torrid encounter with her for more than just the couple of days she won’t walk without thinking at Cara's fingers buried knuckle-deep inside her.

"I will kill you." Denna groans breathlessly, when Cara's fingertip finds the sensitive bundle of nerves at last, massaging the numb with barely noticeable pressure, widening circle after circle in maddening slow motion. Denna is writhing and bucking into her hand, trying to force Cara to do her bidding. Cara won't, just yet. One-handedly, Cara reaches for the chains, that are dangling from the ceiling and makes a mental reminder, to adjust her chambers in the same way. The cuffs click shut around Denna's wrists and piercing blue eyes snap open.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Denna asks, a dark look crossing her feature.

“Relax, Mistress.” She smirks. “I guarantee that you'll be.. satisfied.”

Her fingertip abandons Denna's clit and she huffs in disapproval at the loss of contact and is about to let a remark slip, when two of Cara’s fingers push inside her instead--ever so slightly; only to feel them pulling out and slide back in again--in the slow maddening pace as before.

Just before Denna can threat Cara again, the door the chamber flies open.The distinct smell of sex hits Raina as well as Berdine like a wave as they walk inside. Coming to a halt in front of the bed, both dark-haired Mord'Sith smirk at each other in amusement. Her gazes fall on the two bare ass naked Mord'Sith on top of the sheets.

Denna's legs are propped up, wrists chained over her head, Cara is on her knees, hovering above Denna, a wet glistening hand between the blonde's legs.

"Ahh, I see," Berdine drawls, "you are still investigating, right.. and Mistress Denna is just testing if the chains might have been manipulated?"

“The language seems a tad strong for the circumstances, although the sentiment is most likely accurate.” Denna agrees reluctantly.

Cara gives Berdine a stern look, refusing to take the bait. "What are you doing here Berdine? Did Lord Rahl send you?" Cara asks, not particularly fond of the intrusion, "Denna and I are perfectly in control here."

Berdine eyes them curiously. "You certainly are, but for what I see of Mistress Denna, all tied up?" Berdine shakes her head. "I have seen her in perfect control before, this.." She points at the restrained platinum-blonde Mord’Sith, "is not."

Denna growls. "Thin ice, Berdine." Her tone drops a few shades lower and the chains above her head ring faintly with her movement, "very thin."

"Whatever," Berdine smirks. "To answer your question, Cara, Lord Rahl did not exactly send us. He is still recovering."

Cara tenses in fear that her Lord and Master may have been attacked during their absence. “Recovering? Was he attacked?"

"Not quite.."

"Spill it Berdine--or I am losing control--and it won’t leave you as unaffected as Denna's current predicament."

Berdine shrugs indifferently. “It seems that Lord Rahl--may the Creators light always shine on him--had a severe allergic reaction and was not quite himself lately.."

"Allergic reaction? To what?"

Berdine bites the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing - the loyalty to her Lord Rahl forbid her to actually laugh, even if she might have reason to. “Unknown.” She says loudly, but mouths “A kitten." Raina--standing only a few steps behind her mate—hides a chuckle beneath a cough as Cara and Denna gasp in unison.

"Obviously," Berdine goes on, after it is clear that Cara and Denna will only continue staring at her with wide eyes. "The unknown culprit..” She mouths ‘kitten’ again, before continuing, “affected him so strongly, that he suffered major hallucinations and delusions. He had already send away half of our sistershood and palace guards to search for 'traitors' in the entirety of D'Hara, before his… indisposition was noticed."

Cara sends her questioning, still unbelieving look. "And now you're trying to tell me, that there never was a traitor in this temple? That everything we suffered, was because of a small beast of fur?"

"Excuse me," Denna chimes in, "WE?"

"Don't be petty about it!" Cara snaps and shifts her attention back to Berdine, but Denna is not finished just yet, "Petty? The only thing you suffered was a mind-shattering orgasm a candle mark ago!"

Cara's eyes fix on Denna as she says, "Berdine answer me. Now!"

Berdine fakes to ponder, savoring the moment a bit longer and does not even try to hide the smirk when she answers. "Exactly."

Denna leans slightly forward on her elbows. "Thank you Berdine and Raina," her gaze flickers to Cara still kneeling between her legs then back to both dark-haired Mord'Sith, "but if you don't mind--as you can see--we are.. in the middle of something."