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Istanza

By: SlaveMasterUK



They call them Istanza. The word is derived from a long-forgotten language, a language whose origins are lost in the depths of time. None are left who speak the language in its entirety, but there are a select few who understand the handful of words that are still used.

* * *

1: Finding Silra

Leeann watched the ceremony with a keen awareness of her own growing arousal. Her nipples ached deliciously behind her leather halter, and her chest buzzed with lusty heat. Between her legs there was a nervous energy that was almost too much to bear.

There were ten of them this time, on their knees at the foot of the Altar Steps, hands bound behind their backs with bonding chord. The pale light from the single narrow window high above the Grand Altar cast them with little more than shadows; they were indistinct, white curves in the blackness. All of them new, all of them uninitiated, all of them quaking with fear and staring at the smooth stone surface at their knees. All except one.

She watched, rapt. She knew what they were feeling. She knew how cold the stone floor felt against their knees and the tops of their feet; she knew how their ankles ached at supporting their weight for so long, how their beautiful smooth buttocks had gone completely numb, how their thighs complained in cramping agony. She knew how tiny flecks of dust and grit on the smooth stone stabbed and pierced the sensitive skin of their knees. She knew how they would later sit hunched in their cold cell, rubbing their aching muscles and their sore knees in a vain attempt to numb the pain and drive some heat into their bodies.

They were Koda: they were the bound.

She knew how they felt, because she had once been Koda, just like them. She had been there, lost and terrified, awaiting her fate.

They could have come from anywhere. It was a big universe outside Krakus, and there were any number of ways in which the slave traders who served the Sect of Bane could find its Koda. They could have been orphans taken into the slave trade and sold to the Sect after they reached adulthood. They could have been victims of an accident on a spacecraft or station, picked up by an opportunistic traveller and traded like any other luxury. They could even have been artificially gestated for the sex industry and sold to the highest bidder, which just happened on this occasion to be the Koda-purchasers of the cruellest sect in the known galaxy.

From where Leeann was standing, twenty paces from the end of the line, they appeared very much alike. The gloom and the distance hid their faces, but their bodies were near-identical. Smooth backs, slender lithe arms, hair covering their shoulders in lank rivulets. Breasts and thighs were indistinct because of their positions, but that did not matter. Leeann would get to know each of their bodies intimately over the coming weeks.

She shifted subtly on her feet, already boiling inside with excitement. She was Istanza; she was control, and she was responsible for training the new Koda. The Sect of Bane employed her because of her talents and her penchants: she liked to cause pain, and she was good at it. To punish the Koda was her role within the Sect, and it was also her payment, as well as a handsome sum paid monthly into an off-world bank account.

The initiation was almost over. The Koda visibly shook as the shadowed figure at the altar read through the last of the sacred texts. Their backs heaved as their panicked breaths pulsed in and out of their lungs. Their toes were curled, clenched, like their numb fingers. They were afraid – all except one.

She was the eighth in the row, from where Leeann stood. Her hair, although naturally brown, looked almost black in the waning light, and it hung like mistletoe around her neck. Her shoulders stood through her curled locks, but they were not hunched like the other Koda – they were square, strong and proud. Her breaths were slow and controlled, and her fingers, though pale and obviously numb, were relaxed and unclenched. Her toes moved rhythmically as her feet crunched and expanded with each heartbeat, an old and little-known trick to keep blood flowing and prevent numb legs.

A loud slam reverberated around the room, making each of the Koda flinch. Leeann looked up at the altar, saw the single curtain sway as the shadowed priest passed through it into the antechamber beyond. The sacred book was closed, its closing having caused the slam that had awoken the Koda from their fear, marking the end of the initiation ceremony as far as the priests were concerned.

As far as Leeann was concerned, it was just beginning. At last her long wait was over. She had all night to fill, and ten Koda to train.

She walked slowly across the smooth stone, letting the hard heels of her knee-high boots knock loudly on the ancient floor, dragging out the seconds despite the hurried demands of her body. The echoes sounded glorious as they reverberated around the hall; she stood before the Koda, at the foot of the Altar Steps, and waited, leather-gloved arms folded, for the circling booms to die away completely.

"Stand." She commanded. She watched as they tried to obey, their numb legs unsteady or un-responding as they attempted to lift themselves from the smooth floor with their hands still bound behind their backs. One would fail, she knew – there was always one whose legs were less steady than the rest, and after several hours kneeling motionless on the floor they would be completely numb, and she would topple and fall to the floor when she tried to stand. Leeann stared at their frightened faces, one by one, wondering which it would be that earned a special first night for her imbalance. Would it be the one on the end, with the short black hair? Or the thin-faced girl, with the doe eyes? She could barely still her heartbeat as she waited for her first victim to earn her punishment, barely resist her body's cravings. As she watched one Koda's legs gave out and she toppled backwards, sprawled helpless on the floor. Leeann smiled deeply.

She took two paces forward, until she stood astride the fallen Koda, looking down at her panic-stricken face between her leather-clad knees. She lowered herself slowly onto one knee, felt the delicious slipperiness of her own arousal inside her tight leather shorts. Her knee pressed into the Koda's arm and pushed it into the stone; up-close Leeann could see the tears welling behind her wide eyes, hear the unsteady sobs behind her terrified breaths. She took hold of her greasy blonde hair in both hands and pulled the Koda's head towards hers until the face twisted and screamed.

"First one to fall earns a special reward." She said softly, all the while increasing the pressure on the Koda's arm. She let go of the girl's hair and stood quickly as her eyes clenched in pain. She glanced at her hand with mock disdain, wiped it against her leg. "Your hair is filthy, Koda." She snapped. "Why is your hair filthy?"

The girl looked up at her from the floor, lips trembling and eyes wide, but said nothing.

"Answer me, Koda!"

Again, she gave no reply.

"You will be cleaned, but first you will be punished." She grabbed the girl's tied hands and spun her onto her belly, pushing her face into the dusty floor. "Buttocks in the air!" She barked.

The Koda obeyed, drawing herself onto her knees and presenting her pale buttocks to the altar and the surrounding Koda like an offering. Leeann smiled again, withdrew her short cane from its holster on her left arm, held it aloft for all to see, then brought it down swiftly.

It cracked like a gunshot, the following yelp competing in the echoes that ran around the hall. She gave another strike, and another. Yelps followed each like answering calls, drawing at her heartstrings and winding up the breaking-point tension between her legs even tighter still. One more strike might just be enough – the sound of leather on flesh, the sudden scream, it could be enough to send her over the edge... But no, not yet. Plenty of time for that later.

"Stand!" She shouted again, grabbing the Koda's hands and pulling her forcefully upright. "Follow. Quickly."

She marched them out of the great hall and into the network of narrow corridors that led to Leeann's own dungeon. Neon lamps guttered on the walls and the smell of burnt tin and damp stone was heady in the air like musk. The Koda would spend their first night in a communal cell, before being assigned individual cells the following day; it was part of the ritual, and an important part of their training. This night they would witness the punishment of Leeann's chosen victim, and play a part in her own gratification. This night would be fun.

She stopped at the entrance to the cell, a wide cylinder lit by a ring of lamps suspended from the domed brick ceiling on an iron wheel. Ropes hung from the ceiling too, as did numerous shackles from the walls. The floor had a single drain in the middle and was sloped so that any fluids would run into it after passing over the rough flagstones.

"Koda; follow." Leeann commanded, standing in the centre of the cell. "You will stand against the wall facing me, and you will watch."

The Koda obeyed, faces downturned and eyes peering terrified from under brows that glistened with cold sweat. Leeann grabbed the blonde Koda who had fallen at the altar, dragged her brutally to the centre of the room, where she deftly fastened a hanging rope around her wrists, which were still bound behind her back. A hand-crank on the wall hoisted the rope upwards until the girl was bent forwards, her shoulders almost at breaking point and her feet arched to relieve the pain. She tottered, whimpered and sobbed as Leeann once again withdrew her cane from its holster and gave three sharp strikes against her buttocks, accurately covering the three growing welts that had formed from her earlier punishment in the great hall.

Only then did Leeann step away from the hanging girl and let her gaze wander slowly around the room.

"This is your future, Koda." She said slowly. "I am Istanza. I am your future. If you do not obey the orders of the Sect of Bane, you shall come to this room, where you will suffer the fate of this thing that you see hanging before you now." She narrowed her eyes and smiled. "I for one hope that you do not learn to obey, for every minute of your punishment is a minute of my reward."

All eyes were on her, or her victim. All were wide and terrified, all were twitching to nervous breaths. All except one pair, which were wide not with fear but wonder, her breaths not fast and twitching but fast and heavy, her lungs heaving, her chest flushed, her legs squeezed tightly together as she arched her back against the wall. It was the same Koda that had shown no fear in the great hall.

Leeann slapped her cane into the palm of her hand and walked slowly across the cell towards the Koda, her curiosity piqued. The girl stared sidelong at her, still breathing with fast sighs. She let her gloved hand touch the Koda's chest, where it was red and flushed, around to the nipple of her left breast, which stood proud and firm. She tweaked it gently, watched as the Koda's eyes narrowed, then again, harder, smiled as the Koda gave a shocked squeal.

"Do you enjoy this, Koda?" She whispered into the girl's ear.

To her surprise, the Koda smiled. "Yes." She mouthed in reply. She squealed again, a long drawn-out cry of pain, as Leeann squeezed her nipple as hard as she could between her thumb and forefinger and held it until her hand began to cramp.

"Good." She whispered.

She turned away from the Koda before a girlish smile spread across her face; she had not before known a Koda to enjoy watching punishments, or being punished. Perhaps she had chosen the wrong victim, but then, no... If the Koda wanted to be punished, then it would be punishment further to let her watch from the sidelines and not take part.

Sobs attracted her attention, and she turned back to the girl hanging in the centre of the room. "Of course." She said. "How could I leave my little pet hanging? Eh, pet?"

She gave another swift strike to the girl's buttocks, then several more in quick succession to the backs of her thighs. She yelped at first, but as the strikes continued so her voice lowered and she began to cry.

It was almost more than Leeann could take.

Her left hand deftly unfastened the top button of her leather shorts, and she wiggled her hips until they fell to the floor. A heady scent of her own contained arousal filled the room, and she sighed with the delicious chill of the cool air on her heated, moistened flesh. She gave a quick glance around the room, drawn for some reason to the heavy-breathing Koda, but quickly looked away, found the one who looked most disgusted; a suitable candidate for the next punishment.

"You." She said, pointing her short cane at a raven-haired girl with a thin, drawn face so pale that it was almost see-through. "On your knees."

The girl obeyed reluctantly, crouching awkwardly down with her hands still behind her back.

"Come here. In front of me."

Again the Koda obeyed, shuffling along the stone floor until she stopped directly before Leeann. She let her left hand stroke the Koda's scalp delicately for a moment. "You know what to do." She said, taking the back of the girl's head firmly in her left hand and preparing to thrust.

"No..." The girl began, but the rest of her words were muffled as Leeann thrust her wet crotch into her face.

Leeann gave a deep sigh as she felt the girl's mouth squash into her buzzing sex, but it was cut short by the girl's lack of response. She pulled her face away, listened to a few hastily snatched breaths, then thrust into her again, but still she was as frigid as a block of wood.

"Use your tongue, Koda." She shouted, her arms almost quaking with frustration. She gave the Koda another rapid thrust into her crotch, but she only spluttered for breath. "Useless." She said, throwing the Koda to the floor. "Who can do better?"

Again her gaze swept the room, and had barely fallen on the proud, smiling girl before she dropped wordlessly to her knees and extended her tongue.

"Yes. You know what to do, don't you?" She said.

The girl said nothing, but her actions said all that need be said. Her face moved in slowly without force, her tongue homed in right where Leeann wanted it. Her lips surrounded her pulsing clit, sucked upon it, tapped it gently and quickly with her tongue.

Leeann's cane fell to the floor as she fell forwards, grabbed the girl's head with both hands and caressed it firmly. Her knees turned to jelly, and after so long waiting she felt the sexual energy in her chest rise like magma in a volcano. Sighs turned quickly to breathy pants as the tapping against her clit increased in pace, and within heartbeats she was on the edge of an epic orgasm.

No, not yet, it was too quick... It had only just begun – less than sixty seconds of rapid tongue-tapping from the girl between her legs and already she was crashing the gates of ecstasy. It was too much, it should not happen so fast, to orgasm so soon would be to show weakness in front of the Koda... No, she had to stop it, she had to resist, but it felt so good.

Her lips clenched together, her eyes slammed shut and her fingers tightened around the girl's soft hair. She tried to hold back, she tried to deny the rapid sensation of the girl's tongue on her clit combined with the hot pressure of her sucking lips, but it was too much. She fell over the precipice, her body spasming as she released her sexual tension and came over the girl's face.

Her breaths slowed, eventually. She opened her eyes and gazed through stars at the floor and the feet of the silent Koda, their stares averted. She felt one last lick and a delicate kiss from the girl between her legs, then she was disentangled. She stood unsteadily on weak knees and turned for the door. She stopped, turned back, picked up her cane, and brought it down on the chained Koda, again and again and again, until her arm ached and she had spent the last of her faint breaths.

Sobs filled the room, but she barely heard them. She opened the door, shut it behind her and locked it. She headed out of the labyrinth of corridors to her room, not caring to go back even when she remembered that she had left her leather shorts discarded on the cell floor.

No Koda had ever done that for her. Not so fast, not so expertly. Normally she needed to use her fingers alongside their useless tongues, or beat them until they screamed in order to get herself off, but that proud, brave Koda had managed the same using just her skilled lips and tongue, in less time than it took to get undressed.

She had been reduced to a quivering, orgasming wreck by a Koda, in front of Koda. She had shown weakness.

* * *

She could give it up any time. She could stop any time she wanted. That's what Leeann used to say to herself, before she'd tried to give it up.

She had tried to stop on two occasions. The first time the Sect had not accepted her request to leave. She had been Istanza for only two years, and within the enjoyment of her work had been sown the seeds of doubt. She wasn't sure where they had come from, but they were there, nagging at the back of her thoughts, tormenting her every time she tormented one of the Sect's Koda, haunting her erotic dreams every night, until her mind was set, and she asked the Sect for access to her funds and passage on the next public ship to leave the surface of Krakus.

They had refused. They had made every avenue difficult, until she came to realise that she was as trapped as the Koda she ritually tortured, as much a slave to the Sect as they were. She had reluctantly returned to her work, immersed herself in it, attacked it with renewed vigour; she took her frustrations and her doubts out on her charges, beating them to within inches of their lives.

The second time had been a year later. She had played her hand closer to her chest, bribed a palace worker into helping her leave. She had had him smuggle a computer into the palace so that she could check she had access to her funds; she had found a pilot to get her off the surface of Krakus on an unregistered ship, and she had finally taken off in the dead of night, several months later, when everything was ready.

The ship she travelled on had been a modified light freighter, its pilot a smuggler. She spent ten days aboard before they reached their destination, a vast and lawless space station in the middle of nowhere. She had hoped to buy passage to a peaceful system some distance from Krakus, forge herself a new identity and start a new life; it had been a good plan, and it would have worked, had she not failed in her resolve to let go of her addiction.

She found work on a ship leaving the station a week later. She didn't really need the money, but it paid well and came with a fresh identity as part of the deal. She lied about her past experience, and was employed as a crew manager, responsible for the four deck hands in her command. She allocated their chores, assigned their rations, listened to their grievances and kept them in line. All would have been well, were one of her charges not an attractive but stubborn young woman.

Almost immediately she felt herself slipping. The old habits came back, along with the old addictions. That girl's bunk room became a torture chamber, her daily ritual one of abuse and torment. Leeann had hated herself for what she did to that girl, and for hiding it from the rest of the crew for as long as she could, but she could not deny what she was. She was Istanza: it was in her very soul.

She had gone back to the Sect as soon as the captain had found out what she was doing. She was lucky not to have been jettisoned into space; only a substantial bribe had saved her life. The Sect welcomed her back with open arms, for she was an invaluable part of their team. She was Istanza.


Istanza



The Sect of Bane could shackle her with every cuff and chain at their disposal, and she could break free – but she could never leave. The strongest bond was inside her very soul. She was Istanza, and she could never leave.

* * *

Morning came around slowly, after a night of heated dreams infected with the face of the Koda who had reduced Leeann to a quivering wreck less than an hour before she went to bed, exhausted and angry. She would have woken even angrier to know that the Koda had continued to haunt her even while she slept, were she not so energised by the things she had dreamt about.

It had been a long, long time since she had had dreams like that. They were erotic, in their own way, but not overtly so. They were not violent, nor did they speak to any of her usual base emotions, but they were romantic – powerful, uplifting, filling her with a giddy happiness that she thought she could no longer feel. She thought she had had her last romantic thought many moons ago, before she was Istanza, before she was Koda, before she had unwillingly set foot into the palace of the Sect of Bane.

Romance was dead, she had thought. She should not be dreaming about lying on the grass under a bright yellow sun, cooled by a gentle breeze and accompanied wordlessly by a beautiful, smiling face. The tender caresses, the embraces, the sudden and unexpected kiss she had shared with the Koda, it had all been so...

No! No, it had just been a dream, she shouted in her head. Romance is dead.

So the day began with a fluttery heart and a mind set firmly on work and on forgetting about romantic dreams. Leeann made her way out of her plush quarters in the highest levels of the palace and descended into the bowels of the ancient building, to release the Koda from their communal cell.

Someone had been checking on her work, she noticed. Her leather shorts were missing from the floor, and the Koda were shackled to the chains on the wall as they should have been; the tight bonds around their hands from the initiation ceremony had been cut. The only one to remain as she had been left was the blonde girl, still suspended from the ceiling by her bound wrists. Her hands had turned almost completely black, and her face was one of agony.

Leeann made quick work of cutting her loose and massaging her dead hands, although the damage may already have been done. It was no big thing – the Sect expected her to make an example of one Koda on the first night, and if that Koda was ruined by that example then it was an acceptable loss. There were always more lost and lonely young women in the galaxy who could unwittingly find their way into the Sect's clutches, just like Leeann had all those years ago. There were always more Koda.

The girl began to cry in pain as blood tried to return to her blood-starved hands; Leeann called a guard from the corridor to take her to the infirmary for investigation, then turned her attention to the nine remaining Koda, who stood around the circular room, staring at her like pheasants hanging in the kitchens with their numb hands suspended above their heads. They all looked tired and wasted, even the one who had haunted her dreams: she mentally kicked herself for the little pang of tension she felt in her heart when her eyes met those looking back at her from inside deep sockets.

She really was quite beautiful, for a Koda. Her eyes bore the intelligence of maturity with the inquisitiveness of youth; her face glowed with health despite the tired bags under her eyes. And she had a subtle smile hidden in the skin beyond her mouth, somewhere up near her eyes; a wry smile, a keen and knowing smile. It seemed to look straight into Leeann and say something to her that no smile had said for a very long time: it said, I want you.

Leeann tore her gaze away quickly. No Koda could possibly want her. She was Istanza, she was the embodiment of cruelty. She was warped and twisted and she took pleasure in hurting others. She had no higher emotion, she could no longer feel true love nor hate, just base feelings like anger, aggression, and lust. Nothing she felt was anything more than an immediate feeling, forgotten as quickly as it passed. She had nothing to offer any girl except pain. What girl could possibly want her?

She released the Koda from their shackles, one by one, until she reached the girl on the end. She averted her gaze as Leeann approached, but appeared to be hiding a wide grin. As Leeann released her from the wall so she stepped forwards, and something black and soft slipped from between her back and the wall and slapped onto the ground.

Leeann bent down and retrieved it briskly. It was black leather, soft and supple. Her leather shorts, discarded the previous night and forgotten in angry haste.

"What is this?" She demanded, grabbing the girl's hair in her fist and yanking her head backwards, thrusting the shorts into her face with her other hand. "Speak, Koda!"

"The other Istanza would have seen them." She girl mumbled through Leeann's shorts.

Leeann reduced the tension on her hair and pulled her hand away from the girl's face. "The rest of you, stand outside and wait." She ordered. They obeyed quickly, filing out of the door and lining up in the corridor outside. Perhaps they were eager to be out of the cell – most were, after their first night, although most suffered a far worse night than they had; Leeann usually kept them watching her ritual torture of her chosen victim for much longer before she finally retired to her bed alone. Perhaps they were keen to obey, to avoid further punishment. Obedience usually came quickly in new Koda, once they saw what the Istanza were capable of.

"What other Istanza?" Leeann said quietly into the girl's ear. Up close she could smell her breath and her skin, and to her surprise it wasn't vile and repulsive. Spicy – musky, perhaps – but nonetheless alluring. She resisted an urge to lick the girl's face; there was time for that sort of humiliating punishment later, and it always worked better in front of a crowd.

"After you left, another Istanza came." The girl said. Her voice was soft, high-pitched and girlish. The Sect never took Koda under the age of twenty years, although Leeann had never been entirely sure which passage in their strange holy book it was that made such a decree.

"What other Istanza?"

"She carried on where you left off. I heard her coming down the corridor, I saw her face at the door. I picked up your shorts and hid them from her."

"Why? Why did you do that?" Leeann demanded, bunching her fist tighter on the girl's hair and making a mental note to find out later which Istanza had come to check up on her, and why. What business was it of the others how she treated her Koda? She should be free to do her job as she saw fit.

"Because the other Istanza would have thought ill of you." The girl mewed in pain.

"Why do you care about that?" Leeann hissed into her ear.

"Because... I don't know why."

Leeann remained quiet, staring at nothing, thinking in her head. This Koda was making no sense. "Tell me what the other Istanza did." She said eventually.

"She shackled us to the wall. She whipped us, and then she made us watch as she whipped the girl in the middle. She screamed, and she screamed so much. The Istanza just kept on hitting her harder until she couldn't scream any more. It made me so fucking hot."

Leeann's train of thought was derailed by this sudden tree across its tracks. "What?"

"I was so fucking horny, but I couldn't get my hands out of the shackles. God, all I needed was just one finger and I could have got off again and again watching her scream. I tried pressing my legs together but it just wasn't quite enough, I was so fucking close..."

Leeann stopped her with a sudden grab at her arm as she felt it moving near her waist, but relaxed her grip as the girl turned to face her, silkily put an arm around her neck and placed her cheek next to Leeann's.

"I just wanted to put my finger right here..." She whispered coolly, sliding her hand down into Leeann's shorts. Part of her mind told her that she shouldn't let a Koda touch her in such a way, but the greater part – the part being slowly seduced by her erotic voice and her closeness – told her that this was no big deal, she forced Koda to do this sort of thing to her all the time – if one chose to do so of her own free will, why make it a problem?

"I wanted to run it around in little circles like this..." The girl continued, picking up a motion that had Leeann's hips swaying in seconds. "I wanted to twist and to turn and to tease, while I watched the Istanza beat that poor girl into a quivering lump of raw flesh. I wanted to get faster and faster as the Istanza started to drip hot candle wax into her whip-welts." The finger in her shorts increased its pace subtly. "I wanted to feel my pussy leaking down my legs as I watched the tears run down her face. I wanted to make myself come as I listened to her crying."

"Yes..." Leeann whispered almost silently under her rising breath. She could feel the Koda's greasy hair blowing in the wake of her panting, tickling her face. She buried her mouth into the girl's hair and stifled a moan.

"I want to make you come." The girl cooed into her ear. "I want to make you come."

"Keep going." Leeann moaned. The hand in her shorts suddenly moved faster, driving the breath from her. She gripped the girl's head for all she was worth, wrapped her other hand around her waist and clung to her slender back, bit down on her ear. The girl gave a whimper of pain but did not falter, kept up her driving rhythm; the sound was enough to tip Leeann over the edge and she erupted from inside, clamping down every one of her muscles against the explosion in her belly. Contained fire ran through her torso and down her limbs, until her knees buckled and she sank, held up only by the girl's lithe arm around her neck and the delicate hand cupping her between her legs.

Leeann blinked back the stars and shook her jellied knees back to life.

"You're good." She whispered into the Koda's ear.

"Thank you." The girl replied.

"What's your name?"

"Silra."

"Why do you do this to me, Silra?"

"Because you want me to." Silra replied, then paused. "And... Because I want to."

"Why?"

Silra said nothing for a moment, then breathed out a heavy sigh. "All my life, I have yearned for someone to punish me the way you punish Koda. I have fallen in love again and again but I cannot live without being punished. I want someone who can punish me properly."

Leeann thought about this. "This is no game." She whispered harshly into Silra's ear. "This is no S&M roleplay adventure with safewords and rules and boundaries, you can't just step out of this when you've had enough. Koda can never leave here. Koda die here."

"I know." Silra replied, and Leeann noticed for the first time that her voice was shaking. "I did not come here by choice. I'm not stupid. I'd leave now if I thought I could. But if this is my life then I'll do the best I can to get the best from it. I've found someone who can punish me the way I've always wanted to be punished. If I should die here, then at least I might find what I want before I die."

"Get your hand out of my pants." Leeann hissed sharply. "Then go and stand outside with the others."

Silra obeyed, turned to walk sullenly out of the door.

"Wait..." Leeann whispered, grabbed her shoulder and stopped her. She wasn't quite sure why she had the urge to say what she wanted to say, but she was gripped by something stronger than she could ignore. She felt like there was one opportunity to make a difference. The dreams – that's what they had been about. Someone who wanted her for what she was. Someone who would really appreciate what she could do. Someone who could make it all worthwhile for more than a few hours of unleashed aggression and some spine-tingling orgasms. She put her mouth to Silra's ear. "If you're serious, remain awake after you are returned to your cell tonight."

* * *

The day passed slowly. Leeann went about her duties, keeping the Koda in line for their first day of servitude, and tried not to think about what she'd said to Silra. What was she doing? What was driving this? What was driving either of them to this? There was something wrong with that Koda... But still, she was very good at what she did. It was clear that she had been with women before, and she liked it. So what could be wrong with taking advantage of that, if only for a while?

What harm could it do? She wasn't going to do anything rash, nor was she going to do anything against the rules. She was merely going to pay attention to a Koda after the day's work was done. It was all part of her job.

Her thoughts changed faster than she could think them. Good idea, bad idea, good idea, bad idea... It wasn't the way she normally did things, but it wasn't against the rules. It would be good fun, but then what were Silra's motives? Things did not add up. But her curiosity was most definitely piqued.

There were any number of things that she could do with Silra that would be more fun than beating ordinary Koda. For one thing, Silra knew how to pleasure her very well indeed – something that most Koda never properly learned, no matter how many times it was forced upon them. Silra wanted to be punished, and would quite possibly offer herself for punishments that were difficult to inflict on Koda that would curl away from such things. Perhaps Silra, enjoying her punishments, would open herself up to the kinds of sexual tortures that were never possible on frightened Koda. Many avenues, many possibilities...

The day passed slowly, as was always the case when Leeann found herself bothered by things. Sometimes she worried about the Sect, and the origins of their holy book, and what it was that drove them to employ people like her to keep their Koda in order. Sometimes she worried about the other Istanza, and what they thought of her. She kept apart from them, as much as possible, and noticed that they kept apart from her too. It seemed to be a trait of Istanza, to keep away from others as much as they could. Closeness to others only seemed to cause trouble: others were afraid, or they seemed driven by some desire to understand, which Leeann found invasive and annoying. They could not possibly understand. No person could understand her need to hurt others unless they too had that need. No amount of explanation or psychological investigation would reveal the reason behind the madness; thousands of years of human evolution had proved that. Istanza had existed right back into the dark ages, before mankind had left Earth, and even though they had been called many names over the millennia, they had always been sought after by certain tracts of humanity, their violent nature nurtured until it became useful, appreciated and employed.

Mostly Leeann worried that she was trapped. She could never leave. She was imprisoned by her own nature. The Sect needed her, and they saw to it that she had everything she needed: good food, a well-furnished place to stay, a daily payment into an account from which she could never withdraw, and ready access to girls whom she could punish as she saw fit. She could find a way to leave, any way she chose, as she had done before – but she would come back after a month, maybe two, maybe even a year – after she had set herself up somewhere, and thought that she was over the worst, and then found that violent need building up inside her like a magma chamber beneath a dormant volcano. It would erupt, it would drive her to do things to innocent people, the sort of things that she knew to be wrong and would get her into lots of trouble; and then she would have to make a choice, between lonely imprisonment in one of the legal prisons, segregated from other inmates for their own protection, or lonely imprisonment on Krakus, emotionally distant from everyone but free to take out her frustrations on the Sect's illegally-gotten Koda.

As the autumn sun set over the bleak hillside, Leeann worried only about Silra's motives.

Eventually the day drew to a close and the Koda were directed to their individual cells. Leeann played some part in this, using her short cane where necessary to spank the Koda through their doorways. She wasn't in the mood for words, and there was nothing in her contract that specified using words to communicate. The cane was as good as words, if not better.

There was, as always, a low performer, and it was Leeann's duty to see that she was punished. She went to her cell once all the Koda were safely locked away, let herself in and made quick work of giving her the punishment that she had earned. Her heart wasn't really in it. She couldn't escape the inevitable thought that after dealing with this Koda she would have to go and see if Silra had remained awake waiting for her, or if she had forgotten everything and gone to sleep. Even as her lashes were drawing welts on the buttocks of the chained Koda, Leeann thought, Silra could be regretting her words and be pretending to be asleep.

Leeann kept up the punishment for as long as her arms were able, but she remembered little of it. It had involved an assortment of whips, obtained from the rack in the corridor, and it had ultimately drawn blood as well as the usual screams and tears, but it gave only the faintest tickle in her shorts, and she didn't even bother to slip her hand under her waistband in response, as she usually did. She simply wasn't in the mood.

Silra's cell was four doors down the stone corridor, and it seemed to take an age to get there. Her heeled footsteps echoed off the walls like whiplashes, her key turned lazily in the lock and sounded loud in her ears. She deliberately avoided looking through the small grate but waited until the door was opened, where she saw Silra standing against the far wall, looking at her with narrowed eyes and a lop-sided smile. Leeann's heart fluttered.

Silra must have been standing like that, waiting for her, for quite some time. It was almost midnight, and most of the Koda would be resting for the next day's work, if they knew what was good for them. Silra had stayed awake, waiting for her. So Silra really was interested in some form of alternative relationship.

Or maybe she had been asleep, had heard Leeann's footsteps, had woken quickly and had thrust herself against the wall in order to make her think that she was interested...

No, why the indecision? Why make things complicated, Leeann said in her head. She stayed awake for me. She was waiting for me.

"On your knees." She said, and smiled as Silra obeyed. "Disrobe."

Again Silra obeyed, letting the grey garb of the Koda slide from her shoulders to land at her knees.

"What do you want out of this?" She demanded flatly. Seeing Silra naked at her feet brought back all of her lust in one quick rush of bubbles to her head and blood to her hips. She was going to enjoy this.

"I want to be..." Silra began, but Leeann caught her across her shoulders with her cane. Her words stuck in her throat as she jumped, probably in shock more than pain, and drew in a sharp breath.

"When talking to me you will begin and end every speech with 'Mistress'. Is that clear?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress." Silra replied breathily.

"Continue."

"Mistress, I want to be punished, Mistress. I want to be whipped, Mistress."

"Is there anything else you want?"

"Mistress, I... I want to be..."

Leeann caught her another sharp blow to her shoulder as she faltered. "Speak, girl."

"Mistress, I want to be... Played with." She gulped, and then added: "Mistress."

"So this is a sexual thing for you?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

"And you think that I will play with you? You think that I will do to you the things I will make you do to me? Do you think you deserve that?"




Istanza



Silra gulped again, her breaths rising. "Mistress, no, Mistress. But if you do not pleasure me then that will be punishment also for me, Mistress, and so a pleasure for me. Mistress."

Leeann smiled, and let out a thoughtful hum. "Very well." She said. "Stand, and touch your toes."

Silra silently obeyed, the only noise her knees cracking as she raised herself from the cold stone floor. She bent over as instructed, bringing her fingertips down towards her toes until her back and shoulders were stretched to their limit.

"I said touch your toes."

"Mistress, that's as far as I can..."

Leeann gave a sharp strike across her exposed buttocks, making her yelp and bounce. "Don't answer back. Touch your toes and hold them."

She watched coldly as Silra stretched herself still further, finally locking two outstretched fingers under her toes and gripping them.

"Good girl. Now I'm going to punish you."

"Mistress, thank you, Mis..." Silra began, but another strike to her buttocks cut her off mid-word. Leeann did not stop this time, but kept her strikes coming, first across both buttocks and then alternating between them, until each lash of the cane brought a pained cry from somewhere near her ankles. So each strike caused a louder sound from Silra, so each louder sound from Silra caused a stronger bolt of lightning to earth between Leeann's legs; each bolt of lightning gave her only more strength to continue beating.

When she eventually stopped Silra's cries had grown to fill the room, and the last strike echoed away with the sound of quiet sobs. Leeann bent down to inspect her flushed face, saw tears running down her nose and dripping to the floor, drew her hand delicately over Silra's welt-strewn red buttocks.

"Did that hurt?" She asked flatly.

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

"Want some more?"

"Mistress, no, Mistress."

Leeann's carefully-stroking fingers found their way between Silra's buttocks, drifted softly over her anus and found her sex, hot and puffy and slick with heat. "I know what you do want, though." She said, straightening up.

Silra began to rise, but Leeann gave a swift spank to her buttocks with the palm of her hand. "Get back down, girl. You'll not rise until I tell you."

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

"I want you to tell me exactly how this feels. I want you to tell me in such detail that I feel it myself. And I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do most." She said, then began to stroke Silra's wet lips.

"Mistress, that feels good." Silra began, her voice stretched like her back. "I can feel the blood rushing between my legs. I can feel my clitoris beginning to pulse. I want you to rub my clitoris. Mistress."

Leeann's lips curled upwards as she slid her hand further under Silra's body and expertly found her engorged nub. It was so much different to be playing with a willing body – a body already moist with heat, a clit already proud and begging for attention. So many times moisture only came from lubricant and clits remained hidden until brought to attention with rapid sharp spanks from a flat rule.

"Mistress, that's just what I want. I can feel my chest flushing. Mistress, you really know how to do that right. You've got me so horny, Mistress, I want some fingers inside me, Mistress."

Again Leeann did as Silra asked, slid two fingers from her other hand into her wet sex as she kept up the circles on her clit. Silra was hot as an oven inside and so wet that she squelched. Carefully she angled her fingers forwards and curled them against the roof of Silra's sex, seeking out the inner base of her clit, and began a slow rhythm upon it that steadily grew faster and faster in time with the circles from her other hand.

"Mistress, that feels good." Silra panted. "I can feel all the blood rushing to my head. My pussy is on fire. I want it faster, please, I want faster. I have to come. Mistress, please, make me come, Mistress."

Leeann smiled wryly to herself as she kept her pace slowly increasing with each rapid heartbeat. She could tell from Silra's rising breaths that she was on the way to orgasm, that if she kept her pace slowly increasing she would come. Very delicately she began to slow down.

"Mistress, I'm on fire. I want it faster, Mistress."

Again she increased her pace, listened to approving moans from around her ankles, slowed again to shaky complaints in Silra's monologue. She sped up again, and slowed again, and sped and slowed and sped again, each time listening to the steadily more urgent pleas in Silra's voice. Silra's pleas made her own sex throb, and she could feel the crotch of her shorts was already soaked with her own heat. Again she slowed right down, and again she sped up.

Silra's moans turned to urgent girlish grunts, and she kept up the pace, not faltering or slowing this time. Silra's voice began to catch in her throat and Leeann sensed from the way the muscles in her sex and back began to contract that she was on the threshold of orgasm. One more brisk stroke, one more, one more, and then she withdrew quickly, just as Silra's sex clamped down on her. One sharp spank with her heat-moistened hand onto Silra's welted buttocks made her cry out, and her sex hung open, puffy and red and unsatisfied.

"Now what do you want, girl?" She asked.

"Mistress, I want you to continue, Mistress."

"No."

"Mistress, please, Mistress, I want you to make me come, Mistress."

"No. Stand."

Silra obeyed, her back muscles creaking as she rose from the ground. Her face was red and flushed, her hair hanging across it, dishevelled. Her eyes twinkled with pain and need and lust. Leeann felt them lock with hers, and was unable to look away for a moment, before she finally tore her stare away and focussed on the narrow wooden bed by the wall. She grabbed Silra's hair in one hand, dragged her across the room to the bed.

"Take off my shorts." She said. Silra lowered herself onto her knees, unfastened Leeann's shorts, pulled them slowly down her legs. Leeann sat on the bed and opened herself to Silra's eagerly waiting face. "Now make me come. Slowly."

Silra's head lowered over her steaming sex, her lips closing around her clit and sucking on it as her tongue wrapped around it and began to tap it quickly.

"I said slowly, girl." Leeann hissed. "Look at me. Keep looking at me."

She looked down her belly at the twinkling eyes that stared up at her from beneath a delicate brow. Silra's face bobbed up and down slowly with her newly-hindered pace in time with long gentle strokes of her clit with her skilled tongue. Somehow even doing it slowly Silra had a way of making every motion so erotically perfect, so in tune with what her body craved, that it felt like she was only heartbeats away from orgasm. How did she do it? How did she get her there so quick?

But the motion was too slow to make her come. She was there, in sexual ecstasy, buzzing all over with quivering tension and delight, but not quite close enough to go over the edge. It was sheer bliss, sheer unadulterated bliss. She let her fingers entwine delicately with Silra's knotted hair, massaged her scalp slowly in time with her lapping. Her gaze remained locked with Silra's deep eyes, unable to look away, as if lost within them. They twinkled and sparkled with tears, were slightly red, were lined and puffy underneath where she had cried, but they were beautiful. Leeann felt a tingling in her heart that she had not felt for a very long time, and would have stamped it down quickly were she not already at the gates of sexual release.

She gave a long moan, gripped Silra's scalp harder and guided her head up and down, urging her to increase her rhythm just slightly. "That's it, girl. Just a little faster." She breathed. "I'm right there, girl, I'm right there. Just a little faster. A little faster still. Look at me, girl. Just a little faster. That's it, right there. Oh, good girl, you're going to make me come."

Her fingers tensed and locked Silra's head between them. The rest of her muscles tensed also as she hammered at the gates of release, held back only by Silra's relaxed pace. She was definitely coming, she was definitely at the point of no return, but she was being held there indefinitely while Silra lazily lapped at her seething clit. Just one more stroke would do it, one more, and one more, next one, surely... One more. One more. Oh god let it be the next one, please...

And then Silra thrust her head forwards, shut her eyes and sucked hard, drawing Leeann's clit further into her mouth and teasing it rapidly from underneath with her tongue. It was more than enough.

Leeann's sudden moan became choked in her throat as every muscle in her body redoubled its tension and locked her stiff as a statue. Her orgasm went off slowly inside her like a volcano melting from within; sexual tension oozed from her every pore as she conquered her orgasmic peak. Eventually it subsided, and her breath returned, only to be caught again by her rhythmic contractions. Her moans became grunts as her body shook with each one, each spasm a little mini-orgasm all of its own.

Silra eased her down gently with long slow strokes of her clit, releasing it carefully from the vacuum of her mouth, kissing it with outstretched lips until Leeann's moans had become breathy sighs.

"You really are good, aren't you?" Leeann sighed, as she opened her eyes slowly and focused on Silra's once again, and once again she felt trapped in that sultry stare, lost among those deep pools of green that shone from behind frizzled black hair. Silra began to rise slowly and Leeann felt herself rising to meet her, leaning up from the bed, standing until she had taken Silra into a full-body embrace, one hand gripping her abused buttocks firmly in her fingers, one hand locked around her neck, legs entangled as much as she dared while standing. In one smooth motion their lips met and at last the gaze was broken. Leeann closed her eyes, saw stars flashing in the darkness.

Silra kissed her as deeply and as intimately as she had known. Leeann tried to keep a grip on her buttocks but within heartbeats she had forgotten all about her hands, just held them against Silra's slinky body, feeling her heat and her bruised skin and her shimmering muscles.

Silra grabbed her wrist delicately while they still kissed and guided Leeann's hand between her legs, pressed her palm into her sex. Leeann began stroking almost instinctively, sought out Silra's clit and massaged it with all the precision of a lifetime's practice. Silra moaned into the kiss, writhed against Leeann's hand, spread her heat over her fingers and palm.

Leeann's heart beat frantically in her chest and sang with the kind of joy that she thought she had forgotten. What she had done to Koda over the last few years had got her going physically, but there had not been a connection such as this, so intimate and so natural. It filled her with vitality and awoke her from her kiss-daze. She broke contact with Silra's moist lips, stepped back and grinned. Silra's face was flushed again, her breath high and tight. Her fingers slipped slickly from Silra's sex and drew a moist trail up her belly.

"You still want to come, girl?"

"Mistress, please, Mistress." Silra panted. "Watching you come was almost more than I could bear. I need to come, Mistress, please, Mistress."

"Stand there." Leeann said softly, then walked to the door. She checked through the grate that the door corridor was clear before pulling the door open, took a quick glance outside. She was going to fetch some rope from the rack at the end of the corridor where her tools were kept so that she could tie Silra's hands above her head while she took her gently to orgasm, but her attention was distracted by the sight of a movement in the dim nightlight at the far end of the passage. She stole back from the door, shut it quietly, turned around and hissed sharply at Silra: "Down, on your knees, face the door." Quickly she picked up her cane and stepped behind Silra, gave a few quick strikes to her back, until a face appeared at the door's grate, which she pretended not to notice for a moment.

"Having fun, Leeann?" Said the face at the door, once it seemed to realise that it had been seen.

"What do you want, Danielle?" Leeann spat. "Was it you who shackled my Koda last night?"

"Don't get cocky with me." The face replied angrily. "I came to make sure you were alright. One of the guards told me they'd seen you walking back to your room with a face like thunder and no pants on. I came to make sure nothing had happened. I couldn't leave them unshackled. I came back tonight to make sure you were alright."

"Oh, you're concerned for me?" Leeann mocked. "Or maybe you're concerned for the Sect?"

"We know you've got a reputation. It's my duty to check it out."

"Your duty is to handle your own Koda. You handle yours, and leave me to handle mine. If you've got a problem, go take it elsewhere. This is my prison."

"I don't know what your problem is, Leeann, but just remember, the Sect is watching you. You'd better pray they don't put you back where you came from."

"Get out of here."

Danielle turned and left the grate. Leeann waited for a few moments, until the sound of heels on the stone floor had died away.

"Was that the Istanza who shackled you last night?" She whispered to Silra.

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

Leeann paused. "Do you still want to come?"

"Mistress, yes please, Mistress."

"Right. Wait there." Leeann replied. Her heart was no longer in it – Danielle had stolen her thunder. She was tired after her extended orgasm, and crushed by the knowledge that she had let herself down in front of another Istanza when she left the Koda unshackled the previous night. Power-play among them was rife, and she knew she had her reputation among them for running away – they kept apart, as best they could, but like all hens they were quick to play on other's weaknesses if they thought it might get them somewhere. There were few who could be more vicious and scheming than Istanza – she would have to watch her back.

She was angry now, and frustrated; she no longer cared to give Silra a slow and gentle orgasm. This one would be fast and painful. She stepped out into the corridor, felt the cold air chill the heat-moistened flesh between her legs, and grabbed a small length of coarse knotted rope from the rack. She unfurled it as she walked back to the cell, commanded Silra to stand, and began to tie it tightly around her waist.

"How does that feel?"

"Mistress, it's very rough. It itches, Mistress."

"Good." She replied, tying it off so that a loose length hung down between Silra's legs. She took up the length, pulled it tightly between her buttocks; Silra bit her bottom lip as she moaned and Leeann felt the muscles around her hips go tense against the invasion of such rough material against her delicate flesh. Leeann deftly tied the loose end off as tight as she could, gave it a few experimental tugs from behind, making Silra squeak with each one.

"Mistress, that really hurts, Mistress." Silra mewed, her eyes watery with tears, moving her hips slowly as the thick knots dug into her flesh and the coarse strands irritated her like nettle rash.

"It's supposed to. You will come while wearing them, if you still want to come."

Silra's face twisted with indecision.

"Perhaps you're not horny enough any more. Perhaps I should cane you a little."

"Please, Mistress..." Silra began, but earned a strike across her buttocks.

"That's 'Mistress, please, Mistress', girl." Leeann snapped.

"Mistress, sorry, Mistress, please, Mistress." Silra mewed. "Mistress, I really do want to come, Mistress."

"Very well." Leeann stepped back and sat herself on the bed, placed her cane beside her and reclined against the wall, watching lazily. "Go ahead."

"Mistress, I don't... Yes, Mistress."

Silra slowly lowered her hands over her belly and carefully touched the rope, feeling around it and down between her legs where her flesh was still moist and puffy and red. She winced a few times as the rope shifted and scratched at her skin. She delicately peeled back her lips, opening her sex to the invasion of the rope. Her fingers tried to slip between rope and moist skin, moved around there rhythmically for a while, drawing little sighs from her mouth until her shoulders sagged suddenly with a big expulsion of breath. "Mistress, I don't think I can get my fingers under the rope, Mistress. I can't reach my clit, Mistress, or get my fingers in my pussy. Mistress."

"Then use the rope. That knot must be pressing on your clit."

"Mistress, yes, Mistress." Silra breathed, gingerly taking the knot between her fingers and moving it around slowly. She winced, staggered, but kept up her rhythm.

"How does that feel?"

"Mistress, it's very sore, Mistress. Mistress please don't make me do this..."

"You said you wanted to be punished, girl, and you are being punished. You will make yourself come."

Silra gave a heated sigh. "Mistress, yes, Mistress." She gulped, increasing the pace of the circles that she drew with the thick knot. Her lips pursed together as tears began to trawl down her face, and tight little squeaks left her mouth with each circle. After a short time her chest began to flush again and her hips started to draw little circles to match those that she drew on her clit. Leeann's eyes remained fixed on the rope, as it cut between Silra's legs with each circle.

"Is that enough to make you come, girl?" Leeann asked eventually.

"Mistress, I don't think so, Mistress."

"Well if you're not going to come, I may as well go to bed."

"Mistress, wait... I think I can do it, Mistress."

"Good girl."

Silra's pace quickened again, the knot moving around her clit three times for each gyration of her hips. Her squeaks increased in time, her tears scrolling faster. Leeann allowed her own fingers to wander between her legs as she watched, stroking her clit gently. Angry as she had been, this display was hellishly erotic, and tickled her senses again despite her fatigue. She could get off at least once while watching this...

Silra's tear-filled eyes locked onto Leeann's hand. Her mouth hung half-open and her cheeks were sullen and lifeless, but flushed with arousal. Her squeaks became quicker as her pace increased.

"Tell me how it feels, girl." Leeann purred.

"Mistress, it hurts, Mistress, but you're making me horny. You're making me want to come. I want to come for you, Mistress."

"Good girl. Keep talking to me."

"Mistress, yes, Mistress. I think I'm getting close." She squeaked. "It's hard to tell over the pain. My clit is on fire. I wish I could get my fingers in my pussy, I wish I could get my fingers on my clit, Mistress."

"Tell me how you feel inside."

"Mistress, my chest feels tight, my throat feels tight. My knees are weak. Oh, Mistress, it hurts, but you're making me so close, Mistress. I have to come." The knot was moving quickly now, round and round and round her clit beneath her fingers. Her hips were bucking, but only gently, as each buck made the rope saw between her legs. "I think I'm going to come soon... I've got to come, Mistress, I'm getting close, Mistress..."

The spectacle was more than Leeann could take, and a few more quick strokes over her clit were enough. She sat forwards quickly as she came, closing her legs and convulsing against the explosions of delight inside her.

The sight of Leeann's orgasm seemed to set Silra off, for she too erupted a second later, stopping her rapid circles almost as soon as she had cried out and shivered in ecstasy, holding the knot still in rigid fingers as her knees buckled and she sank almost to the floor. Her face fell forward to the floor as her cries of ecstasy ended, replaced with cries of pain. Tears ran down her nose and dripped.




Istanza



A new feeling took over Leeann then, as the afterglow of her orgasm subsided and the image of Silra's sad face etched itself permanently into her memories. She stood, paced forwards quickly and took Silra into an embrace, pushing her crying face into her neck.

"There, there." She cooed. "You've been a good girl. A very good girl." She deftly unfastened the knot at Silra's back and let the rope fall from between her legs, then slipped it loose and let the whole tiny garment fall to the floor. Silra stepped out of it, shaking slightly. "I usually make Koda wear that all night." She paused, then added: "But I don't usually make Koda make themselves come in it. You've been a good girl tonight. Haven't you?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress." Silra replied, straightening up. "Mistress, thank you, Mistress."

"Good girl." Leeann said, then stepped away from her embrace, picked up her shorts and pulled them up her legs. "I have to leave now." She said, deliberately choosing a cold tone of voice. She had shown compassion, and she wasn't sure why; it wasn't in character, and it possibly wasn't proper, either. "I will return tomorrow night, if you want more."

"Mistress, yes please, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." Silra said weakly. Her tears had dried, but she was clearly exhausted, and no wonder. It was getting late, and she had done a full day's labour before her punishment had started.

"Get some sleep. I will want you refreshed and ready tomorrow night."

Leeann remained awake for a long time, her heart still pounding despite her fatigue. A brisk autumn storm was raging outside the windows, which rattled in their primitive frames. The palace was in a mountainous part of Krakus that was prone to storms all year round, and those in autumn were the worst of all. They could roll across an empty sky in less than an hour, and once caught around the spires of the palace could hang there all night. Even in the lavish apartments that the Istanza were granted, the draughts still played around the window frames and tickled underneath the doors, and heating the big old stone manse was an endless task. 

Leeann couldn't get the image of Silra's pre-orgasmic face from her mind, tears glistening beneath her puffy red eyes as she cried, mouth tight and round against the bomb that was about to detonate between her legs. Every time she saw that face she felt her heart judder. Why was this? The girl was just another Koda, just another throwaway life in the Sect's cruel temple.

She pulled her luxurious blankets closer around her neck as another strong gust shook the windows and blasted a squall of raindrops the size of golf balls against the slates overhead. The ancient iron radiator on the far side of the room was too hot to touch, but too far away to make anything but the slightest difference. In the dead of winter, condensation would often freeze on the inside of the windows. The blankets were her best defence against the cold, and besides – she was fit and healthy, and enjoyed the fresh feeling of a cold breeze against her cheek as she slept.

Silra's face kept on playing in her mind. She couldn't help but think of Silra in her cold cell, with only her thin grey robe to keep her warm. The cells were in the heart of the palace, deep in the bowels of the building, and the drafts were not so fierce there, but the whole level was permeated by a more intrusive cold, the type of numb cold that penetrated the very stone of the walls, floor and ceiling and chilled the air, crept into the bone like rising damp. She would be shivering, now that her excitement had worn off. She would be cold all over and throughout, all except one area, which would burn all night long.

Leeann knew. She had been made to wear the same knotted rope g-string when she was Koda. She knew how it bit like angry insect teeth as it was tightened, how every slight move made one's most delicate skin seethe in irritated heat. She knew how difficult it had been to spend a night in that horrible garment, and how her skin had stung the following morning and well into the next day. It had taken all of her willpower to keep on working, and not stop every ten minutes to moisten her fingers with her tongue and rub saliva into herself in a vain attempt to reduce the soreness. She had worked so hard to not be the lowest performer, to ensure that she did not have to wear it a second time.

She should not have made poor Silra wear it. She had not worn it for long, but she had cruelly been made to rub it into herself, accelerating the rate at which it had damaged her skin. She may not sleep with the pain, and she may suffer in the daylight hours with fatigue and soreness. It was not fair.

Leeann stopped herself. Why did she care? Silra was just another Koda. She was nothing. And yet, she really was something... She could do things to Leeann that nobody else had done. She did them willingly. She was every one of Leeann's fantasies rolled into one. She really was special, and she deserved to be treated so.

Tomorrow she would be visited again. Leeann would steal into her cell after she had punished the lowest-performing Koda, and spend another hour or so in her company. She would punish her, if that was what Silra wanted, and then she would allow Silra to do what she did best, and take her to ecstasy.

Yes, tomorrow she would see her again. Less than one day.

She rolled over, adjusted the blankets around her neck. It was easy to get a stiff neck in the cold breeze, if she wasn't careful to keep the blankets sealed high around her chin and ears. She found herself wishing that Silra was sharing the bed with her. Not for more torture or more sex – she was too tired for that – but Silra was warm and soft, her skin inviting. Silra's body could keep her warm despite the cold.

Stop it, Leeann said to herself. Getting romantic over Koda. Forget her, go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day.

* * *

The next day slid past as slowly as the last. Outside the storm abated during the daylight hours, which at least was a blessing for the Koda that were set to work in the courtyards beyond the protection of the palace roofs. Silra was among them, Leeann noticed. She hadn't consciously set to seek her out, but merely followed her duty to keep a watchful eye on the Koda by climbing into one of the towers that overlooked the kitchen garden where they worked, tending the ground and clearing the first of the autumn leaves like the well-behaved slaves they had already learnt to be. They were a good batch, but dull – apart from Silra, who was anything but.

Leeann's eyes set upon her almost immediately. She would have been dismayed at the fact, had her heart not skipped a beat. She was merely casting her gaze across the rows of hastily-working hands under arched backs until her eyes set upon a pair of buttocks pointed almost straight at her. Even with Silra's face obscured behind her knees she had recognised her. It was something about the way she held herself – strong, even when bent over picking up leaves; proud, even in her simple grey shift. What was it that gave her such strength? Of what was she so proud, even when she was up to her elbows in dirt, being driven to work by a short fat man in a leather skirt waving a whip uselessly towards her and her unfortunate associates?

There was a stubborn defiance in her, that was for sure. It was almost unnatural, the way she maintained her dignity where the others were hunched over their work, trying to be smaller than everyone else, lest they be noticed by their drivers. It didn't work for the Koda, for the smaller they made themselves appear, the more feeble lashes from the driver's whip they seemed to attract; yet for Silra the opposite worked perfectly. The driver almost ignored her, passing around her as if she were an ornament or a tree in order to flick more pathetic lashes from his leather strand to those Koda who failed to meet his half-hearted standards.

It was only when Silra turned away from her work that Leeann realised how well she had been hiding her pain. She walked back into the palace with that careful walk, those ginger steps, that delicate sway that gave away the soreness between her legs. Leeann felt a little tightness play at the back of her throat when she remembered that she was responsible for Silra's pain, with her cruel game with the rough rope thong. Silra had suffered in silence all day long because of her sick desires and her need to see somebody in pain after Danielle had annoyed her. It wasn't fair. She knew that pain too well, for she had suffered it before. The rope burned like fire, and even when it was gone its sting remained for a long while afterwards.

Leeann finally turned away from the window once Silra's form was out of sight, back inside the ground levels of the palace far beneath the tower. Only then did she realise, with a sinking heart, that she had been standing in one place, watching Silra from high above, for some time. The autumn sun was already low on the horizon, and soon it would be time to go see to her Koda.

She couldn't escape the feeling that it wasn't right for Istanza to devote so much time and thought to one individual Koda, or feel such unfamiliar feelings inside when she did. Nobody else could know, and so no harm yet was done, but she could not help wondering how long it would be before the Sect became aware that she was devoting excess attention to one single slave. Would that be a problem?

She would have to consult the holy book.

In the meantime, the pale autumn sun was setting over the horizon of Krakus, and there were Koda that required her attention. There would be a lowest performer, for sure. There always was. She would need to suffer for her performance, or lack thereof. It was the way of the Sect. It was her way, the way of her employment. It must be done, and she was the one who must do it.

She wasn't really in the mood.

She did it any way. The lowest performer this time had so far escaped her attentions, but for one reason or another – be it fatigue, depression or illness – she had let herself down, and her work had suffered. Leeann went through the motions, this time favouring evil spring-clamps and chilli oil, until the girl was a quivering wreck hanging limply from the shackles on the beam across her cell, and then – when she had tidied her implements away and left the girl to recover alone – she stole quietly into Silra's quiet chamber, so excited in her heart that she forgot to glance through the grate on the door first to see if Silra was still awake for her.

Leeann could barely swallow the hurt in her chest when she saw that Silra was asleep on her bed, facing the wall. Silra had forgotten, or changed her mind. Silra didn't want her. Silra was asleep, or pretending to be asleep. Silra was... No, Silra was awake! She rolled over slowly, fixed Leeann with a smile.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." She purred. "Mistress, please, Mistress, will you punish me tonight, Mistress?"

Leeann's heart juddered frantically for a moment, until she stilled it. She lost her words, caught them again, cleared her throat delicately. "I wouldn't forget about my beautiful slave." She whispered.

"Beautiful?" Silra smiled. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Leeann smiled back, then remembered herself, and frowned. "That's Mistress, girl."

"Mistress, sorry, Mistress." Silra said. "Does Mistress think I'm beautiful, Mistress?"

She sat down carefully on the edge of Silra's hard bed. "Of course I do. Proud girl, pretty girl. Beautiful girl."

Silra picked herself up on her elbows, then reached out without a word and took Leeann into an embrace, burying her face into Leeann's neck. "Mistress, thank you, Mistress. That's the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time, Mistress."

A smile washed over Leeann's face that she could not wipe away, but it didn't matter – Silra could surely not see it, with her face buried in her neck. It felt so good just to have her close. She was so warm, despite the autumnal chill in the stones all around. She was soft, and gentle, and the feeling of skin on skin was divine. It had been so long – how long? Longer than she cared to count. Before she had been appointed Istanza of the Sect's Koda, that was for sure; before she was even herself Koda. Far too long since she had last been embraced by somebody.

She felt something soft and moist in Silra's embrace, and realised that she was being kissed, softly and intimately on her neck. Quickly she recoiled, grabbed Silra's hands and pulled them away from her.

"No, girl. Mustn't do that. Not here."

"Mistress, I'm sorry, Mistress." Silra muttered, sitting upright, casting her eyes to the floor. Leeann wondered if she detected a hint of hurt in Silra's reply or in her eyes; she wasn't sure if she didn't feel some herself when the embrace was broken, but that was too much, too fast. Nobody had kissed her for a long time.

She had dreamt of being kissed, when she was first promoted from Koda to Istanza, when the Sect realised that her true value was more than the number of bulbs she could plant in a day or how clean she could polish the flagstone floors. She had had many dreams that took her back to her life before she was Koda, to long-forgotten feelings of joy, of tenderness, of love. The dreams had passed, in time, along with the memories, until it was all some past lifetime, some distant hazy fantasy of a life she'd never lived.

The suddenness of lips on her skin was too much.

Now that it was gone, it wasn't enough. She wanted it back.

No. Silra wanted to be punished. That was why she was here.

Leeann shifted up the bed until she sat next to Silra. She took hold of her wrists gently and pulled them out of her lap, placed them out of the way, and deftly hitched her grey shift up her knees until she could reach her probing hand under the tattered hem to place her palm over Silra's sex.

"Is that sore, girl?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

"I'm sorry I made you suffer with that."

"Mistress, I am worthy only of punishment, Mistress."

"Good girl." Leeann said, forcing a smile. She began to move her palm around in delicate circles, probing with her fingers until she found an entrance to Silra's moist insides. Silra gave a few pained squeaks, but remained still, hands gripping the blanket at her sides. She withdrew her bottom lip and bit it.

"I think you're a little wet inside, girl." Leeann said softly.

"Mistress, yes, Mistress. You do that to me, Mistress."

"I do it to you, or you do it to yourself?"

Silra gulped. "Mistress, holding you made me excited, Mistress."

It was Leeann's turn to swallow. "Why?"

"Because you excite me, Mistress. Your body excites me, Mistress. Holding you excites me, Mistress."

Leeann withdrew her hand and stood quickly. She turned to face Silra. "Put your hands between your legs and play with yourself. I will be back. Don't come."

"Mistress, yes, Mistress." Silra replied, obeying her command immediately. Her face looked more than a little pained, and Leeann knew how sore her sticky red clit would be, but she smiled flatly and left the cell. There was something that would make it better.

It took her a few minutes to walk to the Sect's medical supply room, to which she was entitled a key in case she should inadvertently damage a Koda during her training, and grabbed a glass jar of scented salve from a cupboard. She made quick paces back to her quadrant of the Kodas' quarters and re-entered Silra's cell.

Silra sat as she had been left, legs apart, robe around her hips, fingers moving in controlled circles around her abused clit. Her mouth was open and her eyes unfocused, her breath heavy.

"Are you enjoying that, girl?"

"Mistress, it's making me horny but it hurts, Mistress."

"You may stop."

"Mistress, thank you, Mistress." Silra said, withdrawing her hand with a long sigh. Her fingertips glistened with heat and her red sex sparkled in the dim light.

"I have something that will help you heal." Leeann said, climbing onto the bed behind Silra and spooning into her back. She placed the glass jar onto the bed beside her and removed the lid, releasing its flavour into the stony frigid air. "It's a salve. It needs to be rubbed thoroughly into the inflamed area. It might sting a little when it's applied, but it will help it get better. Would you like me to apply it, girl?"

"Mistress, please, Mistress." Silra sighed.

"Very well. Grab your robe and hold it up."

Silra did as she was told, clasping the hem of her robe in her hands and pulling it up and away from her sex. Leeann scooped a handful of white salve from the jar and brought her fingertips around Silra's belly, stopping a few millimetres from her aroused and damaged clit. Very slowly she let her fingertip extend, until the tiniest dab of salve was deposited onto the damp red nub.

Silra hissed almost immediately, and her opened legs twitched momentarily as if they wanted to close.

"Does that hurt, girl?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress."

"Good. Now hold still while I rub it all in."

With no further warning she pressed her palm into Silra's sex, squishing the entire handful of salve onto her inflamed skin. Both hands worked at her flesh, moving around and around quickly, rubbing the oily white substance into every exposed patch of skin. Silra squeaked and whimpered and twitched, but she held her position like a good girl, Leeann thought, and did not speak her pain or try to close her legs. After a while, perhaps two or three minutes of rubbing, while much of the salve still remained, Silra's breaths became slower, deeper, more rhythmical. Then they began to speed up with each firm rub.

"How do you feel, girl?"

Silra released her bottom lip from her teeth and whispered a breathy sigh. "Mistress, you're making me feel good, Mistress. You're making my chest tighten, Mistress."

"Good. Keep talking to me."

"Mistress, yes, Mistress. You're making all the blood rush to my clit. It's throbbing, but it doesn't hurt so bad. It feels nice. I feel pleasure and pain. I'm getting very wet inside. You're making me want to come. Mistress."

"Good. Will you come if I keep doing this?"

"Mistress, yes, Mistress. Please don't stop, Mistress."

Silra's words were fuel to Leeann's growing fire. She massaged a little faster, noting how quickly Silra's breaths adjusted to match her new pace. "Such a good girl." She whispered. "Tell me when you're going to come."

"Mistress, I'm close, Mistress." Silra breathed. "Getting closer. Just a little faster, Mistress. Oh, yes, that's it... On my clit... Oh yeah... Very close now Mistress, very close..."

Leeann glanced up quickly at a noise from the corridor. She stopped her movements at Silra's sex as she strained to listen.

"Mistress, please don't stop..." Silra breathed, but Leeann shushed her with a sharp hiss. There were approaching footsteps. High heels.

Only Istanza wore high heels.

In an instant Leeann pushed Silra hard in the back, throwing her to the hard floor where her knees landed with a double-knock of bone-bruising loudness. She jumped to her feet, withdrew her cane, hoisted Silra's robe and gave three hard, loud strikes to her exposed buttocks, a split-second before Danielle's face appeared at the door grate.

"Hmm... I see you've got your pants on tonight. What a surprise." Danielle said musically.

Leeann said nothing, but raised her bunched fist slowly to Danielle and curled out her middle finger, an ancient gesture that few now understood. She wasn't sure if Danielle knew its meaning or grasped it from the context in which it was displayed, for she simply raised her eyebrows and flashed a humoured smile, then turned away from the grate and walked back the way she had come.

Leeann gave a long outward sigh once Danielle was long out of earshot, then sank back on to the bed and let her cane fall to the floor. What was it with Danielle? Why was she checking up on her every night?




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.