Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Across from us Mary had reached the same stage. Sven remained outwardly calm, but he had begun to hold her more firmly with his free arm as if preparing for the inevitability of my fellow vǫlva’s violent climax. Mary’s face had gone dazed and luminous. I watched her lower belly tense. I watched the involuntary little rocking of her hips. Then I realized just how closely my own body imitated those embarrassing telltale signs of submissive need.
The pendant around my neck, which in a way distinguished me from her, somehow at the same time seemed to join us, too: wunjo… V for vǫlur…
“Did you see the trunk of their tree?” Aksel asked. “Tell us about the trunk.”
I shook my head weakly, not in refusal but in sheer overload. “Steel and glass,” I whispered. “No… that’s not right. That’s how my mind translated it. A tower like a tree. A headquarters.” I breathed in raggedly. “Shanghai, maybe?”
Mary picked it up at once. “The center,” she said. “The place where the lines converged.”
“And the name?” asked Aksel.
There was a pause. I could see on Mary’s face that, like me, she strained toward language. I could see it in her face and feel it in mine: the challenge of vision trying to become speech without fully collapsing into interpretation. My master stroked my poor pussy more firmly, and I cried out under my breath and nearly rose from his lap.
“A fellowship,” I gasped.
Mary breathed, “Yes.”
My hands clutched at my Herra’s sleeve. “A… a Fellowship of the Tree.” I could hear the capital letters in my enunciation. “I don’t know the Chinese words, but I knew… I knew that was the sense of it. Men organized around the structure. Women beneath it. Girls…” My whole body convulsed once, with a near-orgasm I somehow held back. “Girls of—”
Mary’s voice came in like an echo from the same branch. “Guanyin.”
The room went still around the word.
My body shuddered violently. Whatever further veil had remained between recollection and bodily surrender had just torn. Henrik worked my clit in the firm little circles that always threatened to undo me, then he moved a fingertip further down and let one finger rest lightly, possessively, against my abused anus, not penetrating, only claiming. I felt my wetness spill over my master’s possessive hand. I couldn’t keep trying not to move. I ground herself on Henrik’s fingers with shameless urgency.
“The Girls of Guanyin,” I said, hearing in my voice that I had begun almost to chant. “Used to see. Used to guide them. Used for strategy, for power, for… for energy control…”
Mary’s words ran with mine, braided and breathless. “Corporate men. Priests. Executives. The same thing in different forms…”
“Watching the world through the women they fuck,” I whispered.
Then we both saw the final shape of it together. I knew it before either of us said it, because my body told me, and the sight of Mary’s said the same.
“The Fellowship of the Tree,” we breathed, almost in one voice.
Henrik and Sven made the same choice at nearly the same instant. They held us tightly and drove us on.
I broke first by less than a heartbeat, or perhaps Mary did; in truth it felt simultaneous. For an instant I felt the pendant burn against my chest like a brand, and then the climax hit me so hard that I tried to arch entirely off my master’s lap, but he locked one arm around my ribs and the other over my thighs and held me down on the soaked cloth while I came.
I cried out once, sharply, then dissolved into a string of helpless sounds, my cunt fluttering against Henrik’s fingers, my whole body trembling with release. Across from me I saw Sven gather Mary in the same implacable grip, pinning her writhing sweetness against him while she climaxed under his hand with her red head thrown back against his shoulder.
For a few moments the room contained nothing but our orgasms and our masters’ quiet, masculine effort of restraining us through it.
Then the peak of it passed. I sagged against Henrik, still quivering. He kept me tightly held, more from instinct than necessity I thought, and I felt myself struggle to breathe and then finally return to myself. My thighs remained weakly parted over the soaking cloth.
Sven had not yet released Mary either. I saw him meet Henrik’s eyes over the top of Mary’s head.
“Well,” he said at last, voice low and very controlled, “that is inconvenient.”
Aksel was already writing rapidly. “A Chinese organization employing sexually induced female oracles in a structurally analogous system. Possibly linked to energy infrastructure. Possibly already aware of parallel channels of perception.”
“Possibly,” Giovanna said dryly, “we have just discovered that barbarian mysticism globalized before anyone informed the Pretorian Guard.”
I felt myself stir against my master’s chest. I heard myself make a tiny sound. Henrik shifted me more securely onto his lap, supporting my weight.