She huddled upon a large heavy mattress, settled on its dark velvet surface. Brought from her cell just after moonrise, she'd been led through a winding stone corridor into a part of the Dungeon she'd never seen before. The iron creak of the heavy oak door's hinges sent a chill through her. Before closing her in the dark room, aaron commanded her to wait and promised there would soon be company. There was no means to determine the size of the room for there were shadows upon shadows outside the small circle of light made by the candle at the bedside. The ceiling felt low, smothering. The bed itself was not a bed at all but only a thick mattress upon the stone floor.

She'd been permitted to wrap herself in a cloak only. Drawing it around her to ward against her nervous chill, she looked wide-eyed into the profound darkness. She thought she heard something in the room. Scooting back against the cold stone wall at the head of the bed, her body shivered in the cloak and waited.

The sound came to her frightened ears again, a shuffling, shifting movement, somewhere in front of her. Squint as she might, she could see nothing. Her frightened cry echoed in the stone chamber when she heard a voice bid her, simply, "Good evening." The voice was deep and rumbling. It seemed to burn through her skin. It sparked intense fear and a will to run, but she felt trapped here, closed in. She could only sit, stare, watch the shadows for any sign of who had spoken to her. Then, the voice came again.

"You have been brought on my request." He spoke slowly, thoughtfully, as if each word was carefully chosen. "I shall not harm you."

She wanted to believe him, needed desperately to believe him, but her heart pounded in her chest. She still wanted to flee.

"You serve the Double Moon, as do I, in my way." The voice had moved. At first it seemed that the voice came from an elevated position, as from a man standing, or was that merely her assumption? After a shifting and more words, she felt she must surely be looking right at him. The voice drifted to her across the foot of the large bed, yet nothing looked back at her except darkness.

"On this night, it is I who command. Will you comply?"

So, a choice, but was there a choice really? "Aaron…" her voice was shaking, soft, frightened. She tried to speak more loudly and be as clear with her words as her company. "Aaron bid me stay. I will s-serve."

"I am already pleased then." The voice moved again then gave his first command. "You will remove the cloak." It was a matter of fact statement. Her fingers reluctantly loosened their tight grip on the cloth as she opened the cloak, allowing the candlelight to dance upon her folded body. She could not look away from the darkness, still hoping to catch a glimpse, a hint, of who commanded her.

"I am Lord Cyrus." Came the voice again as shadows now shifted. There was only a hint but she felt he was… pacing. "Stretch out upon the mattress. I would see all of you." The pacing stopped, apparently waiting and watching for her to obey.

As she slid down to lay flat upon the bed, the smooth velvet warmed and caressed her bare skin, but she was still shivering.

"Grasp the rings above your head." So calm and fluid was his deep voice. "I've no wish to chase, this eve."

Twisting her head upward to look at the stone wall, she did indeed see an iron ring fastened there, just above the mattress. She reached up to wrap her fingers around the cold metal. There was another ring to the other side. She grasped it as well and closed her eyes. Who is he? What did he have planned for this eve?

"You will not be bound." More scuffling in the shadows. "But you are not to release the rings until given leave to do so."

"Yes, m'lord." She managed to whisper as her eyes opened again. From this prone position, she could only see the carved stone ceiling and supporting rafters. As the shifting in the shadows pierced her ears again, she dared not raise her head to look. Perhaps she did not wish to know.

"I say again, that I will not harm you, but… do not release the rings."

What was he warning her of? The possibilities were cut from her thoughts as she felt the mattress shift beneath her. Something had joined her on the bed, something very heavy. She finally raised her head off the mattress and glanced across her own body to see a flash of golden eyes, large luminescent golden eyes. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as a creature of blackest fur approached. Hints of candlelight on his dark face and powerful shoulders now told her who… rather what… her company was. The great cat continued his slow stalking steps until he was perched on his haunches at her feet.

"Yes, I am as you see, a panther, tho' I was not always thus." His massive head lowered to nuzzle her feet apart. Her mind was a fury of fright, screaming that she should jump up and run, but she was frozen with her white knuckled grip upon the iron rings.

The soft moist muzzle of the panther proceeded further, pushing her legs apart. His stiff whiskers tickled at her. She made a gasp into the rafters when his warm textured tongue lashed across her thigh. His throat vibrated his pleasure at the taste of her. The sound of it traveled through her very being.

One heavy paw pressed against her inner thigh, opening her to him. She shuddered as her head dropped back to the mattress.

"No need to fear. At times I long for…" He could not elaborate. Too much to say and his mind was already filling with the look and scent of her. He pushed his broad nose up into the soft flesh and dark curls at the meeting of her thighs. Suddenly, a rush of something else replaced her fear, as a hot lash of his tongue slipped up between her lips.

While his velvet-furred body inched her legs further apart, she closed her eyes to feel the heat of his heavy breath upon her developing moisture. The iron rings rattled in their loops when his paws flexed into the smooth flesh of her thighs. There was the merest scratch of claws, but his kneading was not painful. His jaws brushed her skin as his head moved slowly, painstakingly, letting his long thick tongue continue lapping across her tenderness.

She stiffened for a moment as she felt the hard smoothness of his teeth graze her but found it to be the lightest touch. His rumbling purr soon quelled her fears and soothed her into gently writhing beneath his attention. The texture of his tongue stroked roughly across her nub, rattling the iron rings.

The panther shifted, drawing himself up onto his front paws, then placing them outside her hips. She slowly opened her eyes to look up at the black-furred beast curled over between her legs. His head was lowered, golden eyes closed. His nose brushed across her navel as his tongue licked at her stomach before moving up to her ribs. She was mesmerized, watching his slow graceful movement and feeling the tantalizing moist heat of his tasting of her, his bathing of her.

( Continued on Page 2)

(Click on candle to return to the Great Hall)

Circe's Beastiary

Atrium
Beasts

Cyrus' Request