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Aug 15 2016

And Now the News… Part V By TeraS

It’s been some time since the news has been on the Tale. To get back up to speed, you might want to visit this page on the Tale where the prior four parts of this story can be found. It is time for Paige to make a choice. Whether it is her’s alone or someone else’s is debatable.

 

And Now the News…
Part V
By TeraS

 

“There is no such thing as a deal without loopholes.”—As said by Tera to a soul seeking solace.

 

Thrall lay entwined with Need, their bodies slick and damp, fingers lightly stroking each other’s heat, the lit pots of fire around the circumference of the room being reflected from the oil upon their bodies. The delightful feeling of skin warmed in the oil, hair slicked back, and the sheen from it all making their bodies sleeker, more sensual, more powerful.

Song lay nearby, her soft melody drifting upon the air, coating the two in passionate blanket, a second skin around their bodies. Reclining with Song was Goddess, a soft smile playing upon her lips. She watched the two lovers, then lightly kissed Song’s shoulder, making her voice quiver in pleasure. Then she arched an eyebrow, as if something had disturbed her.

Song felt the change, her voice almost catching in the midst of a verse before continuing. Goddess had explained what was to come, about her Song being all-important when the moment came. Song came and her aria flourished as Goddess wished.

Need’s lustful tonguing paused. She looked towards Goddess, who gave a slight nod, causing Need to dip once more into Thrall’s sex, making her moan and quake, the bliss and pleasure overcoming the change around them. Goddess had explained what she needed, what Her Need was.

Thrall was in ecstasy. She was Hers, like Song, like Need. The part of her that was Paige felt every caress of Need’s tongue and fingers, the heat of their legs scissoring, the wetness of her sex. She was enthralled, as Goddess commanded she be; Her Thrall would obey. Her eyes were closed, her voice quailing in joy as Need—and her own need—brought her fires to their peak. She wanted this, needed this, for all time, for always. Then, on the edge of orgasm, one that she needed, begged for, desired as her reward from Need, a single word from Goddess froze Thrall … and Paige awoke. She turned the tables on her lover, her Need: where once she was being served, she was giving. Her fingers caressed her lover’s nipples, her tongue played with her love’s own. She pressed herself tightly, not wanting to lose this moment, to hold her love in her arms.

She had years upon years to make up for. As she slithered towards her lover’s sex, her body shaking in need to taste and pleasure, Goddess spoke: “It’s time.”

Paige whimpered slightly. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to abandon the Need long forgotten and now here. She took a purple nailed hand in her own black nailed one and lightly kissed every finger. The sound of her lover moaning in joy made Paige’s heat blossom, burn, become a flame inside of her.

Her lover purred: “I’ll be waiting.”

That promise alone was enough for Paige, at least for her to disentangle herself from her lover and turn towards Goddess. She did not need a command—Thrall’s knowledge was part of her as she was part of Thrall. Her place was with Goddess, that place that had been hers always. She stood, proud to know she was Hers, and walked across the red marble floor towards where Goddess and Song awaited.

It was only a moment later that Paige knelt, legs open, sex bare, her eyes ravishing the sight of Goddess and her Song entwined together. She remained there, watching, a blissful smile upon her lips as her lover padded to her. Paige managed not to moan as her lover teased a finger along the black collar she wore. Then her lover took the last few steps, crawling onto the collection of pillows and satin sheets where Goddess and Song observed her. Paige’s joy at watching her lover meld her body against Goddess and Song’s own was delicious torture.

When Goddess spoke once more, Paige-Thrall listened intently: “Whose are you?”

“Yours, Goddess. As was written, as was meant to be, as should have been.”

“Why?”

She hesitated: “I … I was guided, mislead, turned away.”

“What do you wish?”

This was a longer pause. Paige thought about this carefully—at least, she tried to as she heard her lover’s voice mewl in pleasure as Goddess licked: “To be free.”

“What of revenge?”

The answer came from Thrall, but Paige accepted it without question: “It is not your way, Goddess.”

The smile was breathtaking: “True.”

Goddess draped her right hand towards Paige, her fingertips glistening red, Goddess’ colour. Thrall knew what to do. Paige inched forward enough to rub her cheek against Goddess’ fingertips. It was the first contact she had with her Goddess, something that she had been needing, whimpering for. The crescendo that blew through her body and soul, the release of her own need to be loved and accepted by Her, made her sex drip and Paige couldn’t have been more thrilled to know that she was.

Goddess loved her.

Paige remained there, her cheek nestled against Her hand, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, as both Song and Need served Goddess and her Thrall. She felt hands over her skin, the tightness of her marks as Thrall being applied to her, the wanton power of her service to Goddess being encased and bound.

Opening her eyes, Paige regarded her Goddess, draped in red, Her clothing seemingly painted onto her skin, Her lips in a seductive smile, Her so-green eyes glinting, the power of Her own seduction palatable in the air. Goddess offered Her Paige, Her Thrall a hand: “Rise.”

Paige’s hand found her Goddess and she stood as commanded. Thrall’s form was perfect, as it was meant to be. The light played off the latex that covered her body: deepest black, from her heels that she stood upon, arcs of light caressing her shiny black stockings, skirt, corset and long, black opera gloves. But greatest of all was the thrum of Goddess’ power rippling over her collar, the joy of knowing she was Thrall.

Goddess began to purposely walk from her sanctuary, holding her Thrall’s hand, their heels clicking on the marble floors as they walked to the elevator at the end of the hallway. Like before, the doors opened without a command. She followed Her within and the doors closed. The descent was longer than the ascent was before, she thought, unsure as the Song had made such things unclear in her memories.

When the doors opened again, it was not in a lobby. The space was deepest black. Goddess entered, still holding her hand, and, once the doors closed, Paige was invisible in the darkness. Thrall was blacker than the black that surrounded her, but she did not fear: the red of Goddess shone brightly in the dark, a beacon upon which Paige locked her eyes.

Goddess released her hand and then waited. Whether any time actually passed or if it was centuries, Paige didn’t, couldn’t know. All she needed was to look upon Goddess in her red and be calm.

A voice then came out of the murky depths that made Paige tremble: “We claim ownership!”

The bemusement in Goddess’ voice made Thrall quiver: “Oh? Do you?”

The voice answered: “She belongs to us.”

Goddess turned to Paige: “What is the truth?”

The Song within her formed the words, the Need pressed her to give voice to them: “I was Hers. I was meant to be Hers. Never yours.”

The answer made Paige tremble. Thrall kept her eyes upon Goddess. They both looked into so-green eyes that loved and cared. She heard the Song of passion in Her voice, they listened to the Need to be with her.

“You have interfered!”

“No more than you did when you took away her right to choose.”

“We gave her purpose!”

“At what cost? She was never given the change to choose.”

“She is ours!”

“No. She is another’s.”

The truth in those words found their way directly into Paige-Thrall’s soul. She was.

She was Need’s, because she was needed.

She was Song’s, because the song was incomplete without her.

She was Goddess’, because she was wanted, not to serve, but to just be.

She was Thrall, because she was enthralled with being part of something more than she, herself, alone.

How could anything compete against those truths?

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