The Price of Betrayal Chapter 5 by Maggie Finson

That was one, nasty, evil man.

Maybe just not in the way he thought.

The man's capacity for betrayal surprised me, but then again it didn't.

The feel that he was older — far older — than his body was disturbing, though. Very disturbing.

What was he? A human who had discovered a rather unpleasant way to prolong his life? A magical being who was hiding in human flesh? A mix of the two? Had the original at one time made a pact with something for that ability and been joined or even subsumed by the being it had been done with? Some investigation was in order there.

But more importantly, I knew how to break the bonds that held me. Oh it wasn't going to be easy to get what I needed, but now that I knew what it was at least I could work around the constraints that had been set on me enough to get it done. It wouldn't be an instant fix, but now I knew, KNEW, what it was I had to do to be free.

Then, oh then, there would be a reckoning. I would have my vengeance, and set a few other things right at the same time.

Oh yes. All that and more.

In time.

And as Behrouze had said, I had all the time in the world to do it in.

The puzzle finally made sense.

Now all I needed were the missing pieces to complete it.

And that bastard who was Miri's father had just offered them up to me. The Fates do have a sense of humor, it seems.

“Oh, my poor, beautiful daughter.” I mourned while watching what Nadereh was going through. The surgeries, the beatings, the drilled in training.

“She knows what waits at the end of this, Mistress.” Souri told me quietly. “She has endured worse already and you know that. She is anticipating her true birth.”

“I just hope she isn't born a bitter, hating creature.” I sighed.

“Your beautiful souled, Nadereh?” Souri shook her head. “There is no hate in her, Mistress. Not even now. She will be all that you hoped she would be, I am certain.”

I could only hope Souri was right.

Another interesting wrinkle in things, as you probably noticed there, is that I can see the ones I've touched, or changed. Though that wasn't always the blessing you might think.

“Fariba has adjusted more quickly than I would have thought.” I mused while watching the other I'd changed.

“She knows that what she is, Is, Mistress.” Souri agreed. “She has a strong spirit that has been changed by her new form into something it never could have been before.”

That was true. Fariba really had become that dutiful, loving wife I had sentenced the one she had been to being.

“In time,” my servant and confidant thoughtfully went on, “she may well see what you did to her as a gift rather than a punishment.”

“We'll see.” I sighed while reaching out to test her. By allowing just little of her magical ability to open up. “What she does with this will be interesting and important to her future.”

“As you say, Mistress.” Souri nodded.

Fariba felt the slight return of her magic and started as if she had put her fingers into a light socket.

Then a slow smile grew on her face and she looked up, as if actually seeing me and whispered. “Thank you, Mother.”

That set me back a bit.

“Mother? She calls me Mother?”

“Any you change, Mistress.” Souri told me. “Any of them, are your children even if they remain human.”

Now that was going to take some thought, and getting used to.

And the possibilities just kept growing.

“But they must come to you willingly, Mistress.” Souri added. “You won't get that effect if you just randomly change people. Those who come of thier own accord are attuned to you from the start.”

“Sheesh.” I shook my head. “I hope I can be a good influence on them, then.”

“That worry.” She smiled at me. “Is needless, Mistress.”

“Huh.” Was about all I could come up with for an answer to that one.

“You are the coming Mother, Mistress.” Souri told me simply. “The Queen who will make the Djinn a gentler, kinder people.”

“I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet.” I couldn't get the idea of being a Queen into my head even if everyone I'd met outside of those mages called me Princess.

“When the time comes, you will be, Mistress.” She told me with a simple confidence that warmed my heart and soul. “But do not worry. Being Kind and caring does not mean one is weak.

“If you succeed here, your people will be strong and for once, loved by others.”

Well, that was another of those 'think about it later' things. That succeeding part was what I really needed to concentrate on at the moment.

I looked at the still small pile of silver coins I had accumulated, separated the dross from the pure, and noticed that what was left was pitifully small. But again, I had time. Now to see if I had the patience. And the strength to do what was needed.

My mouth was engulfing his penis, taking it all in and working it with teeth, tongue and throat.

When he erupted, I swallowed all of it, then tried to get more.

Pulling away, I cleaned him, then brought him back to arousal.

Then climbed on top of him and rode that newly revitalized rod like a child on a pony. I used him until he was too exhausted to go further and much to my lessening distress, the sex was good. Very good. My body was singing with the pleasure I had felt, and wanted more.

But the vessel I had been tapping was empty.

Not that it stopped me from trying.

What I pulled from him then was something entirely different.

I tasted his masculinity, his maleness without the disguising flavor of sexual acts.

And I drank that in, too.

Oh, it wouldn't show right away, but with that I knew I had gained another daughter. One that no one suspected at all.

So discovered there was more than one way to take the ones I needed into my own circle. Interesting, satisfying in several ways, and oh so good in both ways.

Okay, I admit, the me that was now really enjoyed the rutting part of things. I couldn't even blame myself since that was how I had been made. I'd tried to do that to fight it, but it was as much a part of me as my hands, or head now. Not something I could get rid of without rather disastrous results.

A person has to adapt to realities or just cave in and stop being.

I was NOT going to do that. Giving up was just not in my nature. Either nature I recalled.

“Very nice, little whore.” That hated voice congratulated and taunted me as Miri's father stepped into view. “You had a very appreciative, and surprised audience for that last performance.”

“I wondered what he meant when he turned away from me and told someone. “Well, go ahead, pay her price.

“I find reunions to be so uplifting.” He grinned nastily at me as the person he had addressed came out of the shadows and hesitantly put a silver coin in my hand.

It was Miri.

Her expressions were many and varied. Shock. Pain. Sorrow. Outrage. And worse, the worst of them all, a trace of disdain.