Tales of Erogenia

Based on the online comic created by J.E. Draft.

Episode 2: Journey to Jinqua

 

Chapter 10:  Primal Urges

 

Following the interview with Darden a day passed, measured by the bringing of another chunk of raw meat and more water and the cleaning of the cell by two cringing servants.  The iron grill was raised just enough to let the two men in, and although in obvious terror they swept out the straw and other waste in the cell and put fresh straw in its place.  That was something of a relief to Zenaria.  Neither cats nor humans are keen on living in their own waste and it was much more pleasant to bed down in fresh straw. 

 

Shortly after the cell was cleaned Darden once again appeared and this time he had someone else with him, someone who immediately caught her attention.  “I am Alzid,” High Sorcerer to the Almighty Ruler of the Jinguan Empire.”

 

If Zenaria could have smiled she would have.  Alzid stood no more than a yard tall and was grotesquely ugly.  “High” Sorcerer seemed like a bit of an overstatement, but she supposed that his magical abilities gave him some claim to the name. 

 

“Raise the gate,” Alzid ordered.  “I dislike speaking through metal.”  In spite of his small stature Alzid’s voice had an air of command that demanded attention and he seemed not the least bit afraid of the two beasts behind the bars.  Zenaria noted, however, that the dwarf was careful not to come within the limits of the chain that shackled her to the back wall of the cell. 

 

“My apprentice has spoken well of you,” Alzid said.  “For some reason he seems to think that you might not be wholly responsible for the carnage you committed among the soldiers of the Emperor.  I have come to find out for myself exactly what your story is.  Tell me, can you write?”

 

As a woman who would someday be queen of her tribe Zenaria had been taught the runic script of her people.  She was not the most apt pupil, preferring swordplay to book learning, and as a result the ability to read and write was not her strongest skill, but she could read well enough to understand most of what had been forced on her.  She nodded in answer to Alzid’s question.

 

“Good,” the sorcerer said.  “I wish to know in detail your every connection with the magician Junal and what he told you about us.”

 

Zenaria could think of nothing Junal had said that should be kept secret, and she was not inclined to protect someone who had betrayed her so badly in any case.  She took the book and what appeared to be some sort of stylus from the servant who brought it to her.  Again she noted that Alzid was not so trusting as to come within her reach. 

 

“Start at the beginning,” the dwarf ordered, “and leave nothing out.”

 

Zenaria held the stylus awkwardly in her clawed hands.  As far as she could see, there appeared to be no ink to dip the stylus in so she pressed its tip against the blank white pages of the book and began to write.  To her amazement letters appeared where the tip touched, but the letters were not in the runic script with which she was familiar but in some completely unknown language.  She was so surprised that she stopped writing until prompted by Alzid.

 

“The book translates what you write into our language,” he explained.  “You will not be able to read it, but I can.  Please continue.”

 

Writing awkwardly with her clawed hands, Zenaria wrote down her story.  The magic stylus helped.  It almost seemed to move by itself, transferring her thoughts to the magic book.  In a very short time she was done. 

 

“Excellent,” Alzid said, motioning for the servant to take the book and stylus from Zenaria.  “I hope you have written accurately.  Your life depends upon it.  The penalty for an attack on the royal guard is death by being slowly roasted alive.”  He smiled at that cheery thought and walked away as the grill slammed back in place.

 

 

Zenaria watched him go and then began to slowly pace back and forth in the cell.  Something was bothering her, but she was not sure what.  It had been mounting during the interview with Alzid and now the feeling was driving her to distraction.  The more she paced, the more the strange sensation increased.  The feeling was a familiar one, but she could not quite identify it.  In his corner of the cell, Sir Varden opened his eyes and got to his feet with a low growl.

 

Zenaria lashed her tail.  Something was definitely wrong.  Her fur felt electric and strange waves of heat and cold flashed through her.  And then a powerful sensation began to build in her loins.  “No!” Zenaria thought.  “People don’t get these feelings.” 

 

But she was no longer truly human.  Try as she might she could not suppress the urge to open her mouth in a purely feline yowl.  As the primal sound ripped out of her throat the great black-maned lion roared in reply, the thunderous sound seeming to shake the stone walls of the cell. 

 

Zenaria screamed again, arching her back and rubbing her face and breasts against the bars of the cell.  She dropped to all fours, gripping the bars with her clawed fingers and raised her tail in an unmistakable invitation and one that she was powerless to control.  “No, no, no!” she thought.  “Not like this!”  And then Sir Varden was on her, his five hundreds pounds of raw muscle pinning her to the floor.  Powerful forepaws gripped Zenaria’s shoulders and mighty fangs gripped the ruff at the back of her neck holding her while the lion mounted her. 

 

“Rooowwrrr!” Zenaria screamed arching her entire body in feline grace as she was penetrated.  Cat-like, she continued to scream, attempting to turn her head to bite at the beast that was mating with her.  Lost in the primal urge of mating neither animal was aware of its surroundings, not even when the guards, aroused by the incredible noise of two copulating cats, summoned Dendar and Alzid.

 

“Well, this is something I hadn’t expected,” Alzid commented drily.  “I had not expected a lesson in the mating rituals of large cats.”

 

Neither Zenaria nor Sir Varden heard him, however.  Locked in their animal lust, the straw covering the cell floor could have been set on fire and they would not have noticed.  Again and again the lion thrust into the leopard, the latter screaming in feline carnality.

 

In true cat nature the feline copulation continued.  Midmorning passed into afternoon and the two cats were still at it, their enthusiasm seemingly undiminished.  Zenaria had never felt such incredible sexual awareness.  Unable to control her body she growled savagely while the mighty lion took her again and again, locked into her in wild passion.  Finally, more through total exhaustion than anything else, the lion climbed off her, drank copiously from the pannikins of water and then lay down for a nap. 

 

An equally exhausted Zenaria also collapsed.  She couldn’t recall ever being so completely done in or so sore.  She now had some inkling of why Jaree was always so bad-tempered when she was in heat.  She very much doubted that she would even be able to move for a day or so.  But something more serious troubled her.  There was no doubt that like Jaree she had gone into heat.  And there was only one reason why a leopard did that.  The lion that was Sir Varden had mounted her vigorously enough to insure that she was well and truly pregnant, perhaps several times given the penchant for leopards to have more than one offspring.  With that pleasant thought in her head she closed her eyes.  Within minutes her relaxed breathing showed that she had joined the lion in sleep.

 

 

She awoke with a throbbing in her loins that left no doubt about what she had endured.  She doubted that she would even be able to stand up.  Fortunately being caged in the cell meant she didn’t have to move very far at all, but even crawling across to the corner of the cell she and the lion used as their privy was painfully difficult.  She managed it, however, and crawled back to her place by the bars.  There was one bit of good news.  She no longer felt the mating urge.  Apparently the one episode had been all that was needed.  Knowing that when Jaree went into heat she often remained that way for days, it was a welcome relief to think that she might not have to suffer through it again. 

 

She looked over toward the lion.  He opened his eyes and looked back at her with a lazy blue-eyed stare.  A deep rumbling sound indicated that he was purring.  Zenaria grunted in pain as she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.  “That’s easy enough for you to say,” she thought.  Curling up into a sleeping position she gave her flank a couple of licks and then dropped off to sleep once more.

 

 

“I’m glad to see that the spell I cast worked.”

 

Zenaria opened her eyes.  It seemed that she had barely gotten to sleep.  That was something else she noticed about her leopard self.  She was sleeping almost twice as long as normal.  Or at least she supposed she was.  It was hard to keep track of time in the cell.  Alzid was standing outside.  With him were several very muscular looking men holding chains.

 

“What spell?” Zenaria wondered.

 

As if reading her mind Alzid continued.  “You and your lion friend seemed to be having quite the good time yesterday.  However, I can’t use you if you are continually copulating and I suspect our friend Pulan is not sitting idly.  Therefore, I cast a spell to terminate your mating urge.  It wasn’t so very hard once I figured out how to do it – just a reversal of a love spell really.  But I digress.  I have come to take you and the lion to more comfortable quarters.  I can take you by force if need be or use another spell, but you have been subjected to enough magic.  I would prefer that you come quietly and perhaps convince your friend to do the same.”

 

Zenaria looked at Sir Varden.  The lion had been listening to all of this and a motion of his head indicated that he understood and agreed.  She nodded to Alzid. 

 

“Very good,” he said, “then we probably won’t need all of these chains.  However, I hope you will not object if we use a few of them just in case.  After all, in your human form you did kill and maim over fifty of the palace guard.”

 

Zenaria nodded her agreement.  After all, what did she have to lose?  Anything would be better than the grim cell she was in now. 

 

The heavy grill rose, and one of the men entered the room and unlocked the heavy chains that linked her and Sir Varden to the back wall of the cell.  Freed, they stepped into the corridor.  Zenaria moved stiffly, every step reminding her of the lion’s more than vigorous lovemaking. 

 

Once in the corridor the men with the sorcerer fitted more chains to the collars around their necks.  Even with her promise Alzid was taking no chances.  A second chain was fitted to her collar and three more to Sir Varden’s.  Then with more than a score of men holding on to them they were escorted out of the dungeon. 

 

Alzid need not have feared that they would try to escape, at least not so far as Zenaria was concerned.  Every step reminded her that making love with a lion was a very bad idea; even for a leopard.  As for Sir Varden there were six men on each of the four chains that held him and more than a dozen other men armed with heavy crossbows just in case.  And, of course, there was Alzid.  Zenaria had no doubt the magician was more than capable of dealing with both of them if he was forced to.

 

They moved from the dungeons to the higher levels of the palace, until they finally reached a large courtyard and then they crossed the courtyard to the base of a tall tower in which was set a heavy iron-bound door.  The door was swung wide, revealing a flight of stairs.  “Proceed to the top,” Alzid said.  “Forgive me for not going with you, but I find stairs a bit strenuous.  I’ll meet you at the top.”

 

As he spoke he began to rise slowly into the air.  The men around her removed the chains from her collar and that of Sir Varden allowing them to move to the staircase.  Zenaria started up, the lion following.  It was a long climb for the still recovering Zenaria but she reached it after three hundred or so steps and entered the top room of the tower. 

 

She found herself in a room about twenty feet across.  There were several windows in the room admitting light and air, but she noted that they were all barred.  However, the room was certainly better than the dungeon cell.  There were two beds, one that appeared to have been reinforced to accommodate the lion, and a low table on which was set a large bowl filled with water.  The was nothing else but a small stool on which the dwarf magician was sitting.  How he had gotten through the barred windows Zenaria had no idea and even if she was capable of asking she doubted he would tell her.  It confirmed her belief that she and Sir Varden were totally in the power of their captors. 

 

“Sit,” Alzid commanded waving them toward the beds.  Zenaria was happy to comply, climbing on to hers with a sigh of relief.  Sir Varden leaped onto his bed and made himself comfortable, his eyes on the magician.

 

Alzid began to speak.  “It is time you learned Junal’s true nature, just in case you have not already guessed it.  The story he told you was true except for one important detail.  The evil magician in the story was not me or the emperor but him.  It was Junal who used blood magic to destroy his brothers and make himself ruler and it was Junal who created the Orb of Power to maintain his hold over his people. 

 

He was a bloody and brutal tyrant, using his power to take what he wanted and using his people as if they were so much coinage to be spent any way he chose.  Thousands of his subjects were sacrificed to enhance his spells and render him impregnable.  He made just one mistake.”

 

Alzid paused dramatically and drank from a golden goblet that had appeared out of mid air.  Zenaria growled impatiently and the dwarf smiled.  “As I said,” he continued.  “He made just one mistake.  Me.”

 

Zenaria’s leopard eyes widened slightly.  “Yes,” Alzid said.  “It never occurred to the mightiest magician who ever lived that a lowly dwarf could bring him down and that was his undoing.  He thought me nothing more than a source of amusement, never suspecting that I had a magical talent to rival his own.  As a result I was able to seize control of the orb and restore the last remaining member of the royal family to the throne.  Ironically Junal had kept Pulan as a prisoner in order that he might torment him with the fact that he had completely destroyed his family and all that he loved.” 

 

Alzid paused again.  “And now,” he continued, “you have returned to him the artefact that he needs to return him to power.  I suspect that even now he is preparing his attack.”

 

Alzid stood up on the stool, his short legs raising him about five feet above the floor.  “I will leave you to think on what I have said.  Tomorrow I will return.  I have a proposal for you and that I think you will be well advised to accept.”

 

As Alzid finished speaking he suddenly disappeared, leaving Zenaria and Sir Varden looking at the space where he had been.  She looked at the lion who lowered his head onto his paws.  It was difficult to determine what was going through that huge fearsome head, but Zenaria knew what was going through hers.

 

If Alzid was telling the truth, and she was beginning to suspect he was, then she and Sir Varden had been tricked into committing a monstrous crime.  Their actions had delivered into the hands of a villain the very thing he needed to reimpose a cruel and tyrannical regime.  “Perhaps I deserve this shape,” Zenaria thought, “for being so easily deceived.”  But the thought of being frozen forever in a half human-half leopard shape was one she found extremely depressing.  With a sigh she curled up on the bed and waited for tomorrow. 

---

PREVIOUS CHAPTER WIZARD'S LAIR MAIN PAGE   L'ESPION'S STORY PAGE   NEXT CHAPTER