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Chapter 1:- Enticement
Blood of the Savior
I would like to graciously thank my never ending streams of coworkers and critics that were always by my side when i started first from nothing, and then to something miraculous as this. And the final thanks will always be for you readers for putting up with me. Thank you. copyright
Chapter 1 Enticement
He was in manacles that firmly secured his wrists, yanking his arms back up, sky high leaving nothing but air to support the dead-weight of his body; tendons strained out in effort, sweat seem to pour out from every pore in his body depriving him of what little water remained in his system. Thick, iron bands were scuffed round once smooth and finely tuned muscles containing needles sharp as daggers cruelly plunged into his skin, injecting him, rendering his limbs completely useless. The genetically enhanced hybrid was filthy from head to toe. From his muddy-almond orbs, down to his mismatched elfin ears, to his powerfully built torso.
That was how the queen found him, stripped waist down leaving the lower section of his body to run for cover under the loincloth carelessly fastened around his midsection. She was one of them, he could feel it, she was part of the Vortex that ruled Sulam. The ones that forced solely the males to be a mere plaything to please the women of Sulam's lustful desire. Here, the woman ruled the great city of Sulam. But didn’t the ancient texts of Tot-Suk inscribe that women should be submissive to men? Instead, that blasted, foul-mouth, meddlesome female just had to fire up a rebellion when over half of the men had departed off to Arasuk for war leaving less than twenty percent of males – mostly children - in Sulam and the other eighty percent women. To have the every single woman in the city of Sulam revolt was truly unexpected. Sure enough, about a week after the leave-taking of Sulam’s army, a weapon master made a trip to the weapon room only to find that every single machine, blade, anything that was a tool that solely exists to kill, had been ransacked and taken. In a matter of seconds, the entire dimension of Sulam had been consumed entirely by women who immediately took control of the entire city forcing the entire society of males to surrender. Thus, from there on, for more than thirty decades, women dominated Sulam inspiring other foreign dimensions to riot. So what happened to the other half of the men who went off to war you ask me? I’ll tell you, they were ambushed, incarcerated, brought back and forced onto their knees as each one; through gritted teeth, swore fealty to the women of Sulam.
The powerful city had now been handed over into the soft, pitiful hands of a mere woman.
Perhaps before I go into depth, I should give you a description of the queen herself. Ayra Just,or Ayra the Just, had the standard short,cropped copper locks, honey-tinted eyes with thin, slanted eyebrows, and almond colored skin. Her nose was aquiline and her lips were cherubic. She was the woman Sulam had fallen into-and she was standing merely a few feet away from him,fingers grasping the steel bands circled around his biceps. With a few, fleeting words in the ancient language, the bandeaus were released with a gasp of exhaust as the needles slid out of his skin, the naked tips of the syringe coated with his own elfin blood. Each tube contained a pint of the precious, milky liquid in his bundles of veins,
“Careful now, don’t let even a drop of it fall,” the lilting, yet commanding tone of the female’s voice cut through the silence as the maid cleaned the needles and tucked them away in a warm cloth, cautiously setting the frail objects into the basket she hung over her arm.
With a single flick of her finger, the servant curtsied and backed out of the room.
When the door slammed shut with a sense of finality, he found himself face-to-face just inches away from the ruler of Sulam: Ayra the Just. Her succulent breath swept over his face as she tapped the tip of a nail onto his chin, “Ready to submit? Beldhalgen Anora, traitor of Sulam,” the elf bared his teeth, portraying magnificent, sharp teeth razor-sharp and all the more dangerous if not for the belt strapped around his forehead as he let loose a terrifying snarl that vibrated the entire chamber. Rather amused than frightened, Ayra simply pressed her lips onto his shoulder and begin to contently feast away at the clear liquid seeping out of one of the holes the needles had punctured on his skin. Beldhalgen automatically snapped his jaws together ramming it shut and focused with all his might to stop the flow of the liquid forcing the monarch to cease her insistent tongue at pushed rhythmically against his skin to increase the flow. Frustrated, she pushed a lock of her golden-spun hair away from her forehead with a palm and glared up at him,
"Really now!” she huffed, indignant and all together put out; “Is this how you treat the great ruler of Sulam?” he pulled back his lips and released another menacing hiss that thrummed within his body. Still, in all his intimidating impression, not once did the woman in front of him twitch a muscle. Instead, the corners of her porcelain mouth lifted and with astonishing strength, swung his body against the stone cold wall laying her lips onto his neck, sliding hot, aching kisses alongside his jugular, slender fingers sensually scaling up to fondle the tips of his elfin ears knowing the appropriate spot where he was absolutely vulnerable. It took nearly all of his strength not to emit a groan as she did this; that blasted wretch; she knew exactly where he was weak after a month of stroking him. Beldhalgen heard her push out an aggravated breath as she gripped harder onto him digging her pointed nails deeper into his slick skin leaving fresh dots of blood after its wake,
“You know your job here as a elfin man Beldhalgen,” she whispered, bringing her face back up to his, “As an Etheral provider, your job is to supply us with Soma in order to keep this dimension from dying out," her aquamarine orbs burned into his as she cradled his face in her hands, “You are the ones who will sustain this planet from being extinguished no?” Beldhalgen dropped his gaze, unable to answer; of course he knew how much this world depends on his Soma; the transparent liquid that simultaneously acted as a nursing of life and as an instrument of death. After all, he was the only elf in existence who went through the Mark IIV; a completely foreign technology that would amalgamate both human and any other living creature that had no more than two legs together and inject over fifty percent of a male individual’s Etheral into the merged form bringing into existence, an altogether, half foreign mortal and part human in order to provide more Etheral. And out of the twenty of males sprites that were imprisoned for the testing of the Mark IVV, he was the only one who made it out alive and in one piece.
Only the men could produce such a spontaneous chemical as this. Stored within their bodies, coated like glycerin around the upper layer of their bones, and just hidden beneath the extra layer of skin, the men from Sulam were the only ones that were able to leech out the fluid known as Soma from their pores and swathe their entire body in the substance transforming them into an Etheral Cassion. As a provider of life and death, the Soma also had the ability to nurse back to health almost any form of sickness, mend a few broken bones here and there, and replenish every lustful hormone a creature had left in their system. All one had to do was pierce an inch long hole in any part of his torso, puncture past his skin and Eureka, a thin, dense, stream of the Soma would leak out. Women had established a method that if they teased the area where a man was sensitive, the Soma would react and the flavor spike up to be irresistibly exquisite.
If only those damn needles which were filled with a neutralizing fluid that acted as a cork stopper to his Soma’s acidic poison hadn’t clogged him, he would’ve been able to melt his bonds off and break loose from the torture chamber they imprisoned him in. He was fed up with being shackled up in this limbo; it wasn’t fitting to see a prince like him to be bounded against his will to a cold wall and to have a woman pleasuring him when it should be him bringing out her cries of stimulation. His prison days were over, time to take the driver seat and transform this place into Sulam’s personal hellhole.
“Now damnit!” Beldhalgen vigorously, with an effort that would’ve knocked his body into a state of unconsciousness, increased his flow of adrenaline pouring out of the open taps in his body stored away for the extra bursts of energy he desperately needed at the moment; the whiplash would probably shut down his entire system down once this was over but for once, the great prince didn’t give a rat’s ass of what the cost was, he had to gradually accumulated all this vigor bit by bit once the needles were out of his arms, but they were always back in mere minutes. The bonds fastened to his wrists trembled and with a forced groan, snapped apart with a deafening crack that shook the prison to its roots. Ayra took a step back with a loud cry of outrage, hesitated for a split second, and lunged at him, sword whipping out of its sheath.
This was going to be fun.
Blood of the Savior
I would like to graciously thank my never ending streams of coworkers and critics that were always by my side when i started first from nothing, and then to something miraculous as this. And the final thanks will always be for you readers for putting up with me. Thank you. copyright
Chapter 1 Enticement
He was in manacles that firmly secured his wrists, yanking his arms back up, sky high leaving nothing but air to support the dead-weight of his body; tendons strained out in effort, sweat seem to pour out from every pore in his body depriving him of what little water remained in his system. Thick, iron bands were scuffed round once smooth and finely tuned muscles containing needles sharp as daggers cruelly plunged into his skin, injecting him, rendering his limbs completely useless. The genetically enhanced hybrid was filthy from head to toe. From his muddy-almond orbs, down to his mismatched elfin ears, to his powerfully built torso.
That was how the queen found him, stripped waist down leaving the lower section of his body to run for cover under the loincloth carelessly fastened around his midsection. She was one of them, he could feel it, she was part of the Vortex that ruled Sulam. The ones that forced solely the males to be a mere plaything to please the women of Sulam's lustful desire. Here, the woman ruled the great city of Sulam. But didn’t the ancient texts of Tot-Suk inscribe that women should be submissive to men? Instead, that blasted, foul-mouth, meddlesome female just had to fire up a rebellion when over half of the men had departed off to Arasuk for war leaving less than twenty percent of males – mostly children - in Sulam and the other eighty percent women. To have the every single woman in the city of Sulam revolt was truly unexpected. Sure enough, about a week after the leave-taking of Sulam’s army, a weapon master made a trip to the weapon room only to find that every single machine, blade, anything that was a tool that solely exists to kill, had been ransacked and taken. In a matter of seconds, the entire dimension of Sulam had been consumed entirely by women who immediately took control of the entire city forcing the entire society of males to surrender. Thus, from there on, for more than thirty decades, women dominated Sulam inspiring other foreign dimensions to riot. So what happened to the other half of the men who went off to war you ask me? I’ll tell you, they were ambushed, incarcerated, brought back and forced onto their knees as each one; through gritted teeth, swore fealty to the women of Sulam.
The powerful city had now been handed over into the soft, pitiful hands of a mere woman.
Perhaps before I go into depth, I should give you a description of the queen herself. Ayra Just,or Ayra the Just, had the standard short,cropped copper locks, honey-tinted eyes with thin, slanted eyebrows, and almond colored skin. Her nose was aquiline and her lips were cherubic. She was the woman Sulam had fallen into-and she was standing merely a few feet away from him,fingers grasping the steel bands circled around his biceps. With a few, fleeting words in the ancient language, the bandeaus were released with a gasp of exhaust as the needles slid out of his skin, the naked tips of the syringe coated with his own elfin blood. Each tube contained a pint of the precious, milky liquid in his bundles of veins,
“Careful now, don’t let even a drop of it fall,” the lilting, yet commanding tone of the female’s voice cut through the silence as the maid cleaned the needles and tucked them away in a warm cloth, cautiously setting the frail objects into the basket she hung over her arm.
With a single flick of her finger, the servant curtsied and backed out of the room.
When the door slammed shut with a sense of finality, he found himself face-to-face just inches away from the ruler of Sulam: Ayra the Just. Her succulent breath swept over his face as she tapped the tip of a nail onto his chin, “Ready to submit? Beldhalgen Anora, traitor of Sulam,” the elf bared his teeth, portraying magnificent, sharp teeth razor-sharp and all the more dangerous if not for the belt strapped around his forehead as he let loose a terrifying snarl that vibrated the entire chamber. Rather amused than frightened, Ayra simply pressed her lips onto his shoulder and begin to contently feast away at the clear liquid seeping out of one of the holes the needles had punctured on his skin. Beldhalgen automatically snapped his jaws together ramming it shut and focused with all his might to stop the flow of the liquid forcing the monarch to cease her insistent tongue at pushed rhythmically against his skin to increase the flow. Frustrated, she pushed a lock of her golden-spun hair away from her forehead with a palm and glared up at him,
"Really now!” she huffed, indignant and all together put out; “Is this how you treat the great ruler of Sulam?” he pulled back his lips and released another menacing hiss that thrummed within his body. Still, in all his intimidating impression, not once did the woman in front of him twitch a muscle. Instead, the corners of her porcelain mouth lifted and with astonishing strength, swung his body against the stone cold wall laying her lips onto his neck, sliding hot, aching kisses alongside his jugular, slender fingers sensually scaling up to fondle the tips of his elfin ears knowing the appropriate spot where he was absolutely vulnerable. It took nearly all of his strength not to emit a groan as she did this; that blasted wretch; she knew exactly where he was weak after a month of stroking him. Beldhalgen heard her push out an aggravated breath as she gripped harder onto him digging her pointed nails deeper into his slick skin leaving fresh dots of blood after its wake,
“You know your job here as a elfin man Beldhalgen,” she whispered, bringing her face back up to his, “As an Etheral provider, your job is to supply us with Soma in order to keep this dimension from dying out," her aquamarine orbs burned into his as she cradled his face in her hands, “You are the ones who will sustain this planet from being extinguished no?” Beldhalgen dropped his gaze, unable to answer; of course he knew how much this world depends on his Soma; the transparent liquid that simultaneously acted as a nursing of life and as an instrument of death. After all, he was the only elf in existence who went through the Mark IIV; a completely foreign technology that would amalgamate both human and any other living creature that had no more than two legs together and inject over fifty percent of a male individual’s Etheral into the merged form bringing into existence, an altogether, half foreign mortal and part human in order to provide more Etheral. And out of the twenty of males sprites that were imprisoned for the testing of the Mark IVV, he was the only one who made it out alive and in one piece.
Only the men could produce such a spontaneous chemical as this. Stored within their bodies, coated like glycerin around the upper layer of their bones, and just hidden beneath the extra layer of skin, the men from Sulam were the only ones that were able to leech out the fluid known as Soma from their pores and swathe their entire body in the substance transforming them into an Etheral Cassion. As a provider of life and death, the Soma also had the ability to nurse back to health almost any form of sickness, mend a few broken bones here and there, and replenish every lustful hormone a creature had left in their system. All one had to do was pierce an inch long hole in any part of his torso, puncture past his skin and Eureka, a thin, dense, stream of the Soma would leak out. Women had established a method that if they teased the area where a man was sensitive, the Soma would react and the flavor spike up to be irresistibly exquisite.
If only those damn needles which were filled with a neutralizing fluid that acted as a cork stopper to his Soma’s acidic poison hadn’t clogged him, he would’ve been able to melt his bonds off and break loose from the torture chamber they imprisoned him in. He was fed up with being shackled up in this limbo; it wasn’t fitting to see a prince like him to be bounded against his will to a cold wall and to have a woman pleasuring him when it should be him bringing out her cries of stimulation. His prison days were over, time to take the driver seat and transform this place into Sulam’s personal hellhole.
“Now damnit!” Beldhalgen vigorously, with an effort that would’ve knocked his body into a state of unconsciousness, increased his flow of adrenaline pouring out of the open taps in his body stored away for the extra bursts of energy he desperately needed at the moment; the whiplash would probably shut down his entire system down once this was over but for once, the great prince didn’t give a rat’s ass of what the cost was, he had to gradually accumulated all this vigor bit by bit once the needles were out of his arms, but they were always back in mere minutes. The bonds fastened to his wrists trembled and with a forced groan, snapped apart with a deafening crack that shook the prison to its roots. Ayra took a step back with a loud cry of outrage, hesitated for a split second, and lunged at him, sword whipping out of its sheath.
This was going to be fun.
