"Convince me."

"My Lord, grant me your leave to travel to the Isle of Music," she said, referring to one of the several secluded communities run by the Church. "I would seek cloister in the Haven of Song."

The warmth of his climax and the satisfaction of humiliating the patient Sister once again had left Beldan feeling cheerful and magnanimous. And the shrewd Sister Nightingale had given some thought to her petition. In the closed havens of the Isle of Song, she would no longer figure in the world of events, but could give herself to the passion that moved her yet.

Beldan was sure he would miss her subtle wit and strong will, which had served him in their exercise as often as they had pleased him to contend with and subdue. Why, without the psi-net, Sister Nightingale might have been a player in her own right. She was strong yet, and both intelligent and wise in her request.

Beldan inclined his head. "There are considerations in granting your request," he said. Now could be just the time to have the Voice be where he could not, stirring the people and reading the faces of the few who were key to his plans. But at the same time, it could be just the point at which she could turn in his hand. Shrewd, she was, in asking now. She had worked hard during her last journey, building the faith of the flocks where it was needed, and she was tired. Now could be the time for a fresh face, a biddable girl alive with her faith, and more easily turned. He licked the corners of his lips, not knowing he had done so until he caught Sister Nightingale's flash of disapproval. He smiled. "But yes, this could be a good time. Convince me of your sincerity, my Voice," he said.

This time, he left the rings alone, feeling Sister Nightingale's swirling mixture of emotions as she tried to read her lord's whim, needing for this audience to be a success. He lay back at ease as the finest voice in the Church of Xelta filled her beautiful mouth with his cock, his balls, teasing him erect again. He breathed deeply and smiled. How many Sisters and noble wives and daughters would serve him thus, when the power of the Church of Xelta was his alone and without question? He rolled his shoulders with satisfaction.

"Mhmhm," he grunted. "Present, Sister."

Sister Nightingale turned away from Beldan and raised the hem of her robe, then knelt on her bed, head low. Her white buttocks now crowned the profile of her body. They were broader and softer than they had been when he had first enjoyed her, but still near-perfect. He could see the pink trace-markings of travel from too much sitting and being jounced about.

"Hmmmm..." Beldan said. "Eh?"

The singer reached back and parted her buttocks, exposing herself to Beldan. Her face was pressed further down onto the bed. He breathed in, smelling her. A trace of oil gleamed on the pleats of her asshole. Wise. The new Voice would learn quickly how to prepare for an audience. And for all the Sister's revulsion at his earlier humiliation of her, her pink cunt lips gaped wide, wet and swollen between the silvery-golden tails of her bush.

Genuine lust unprompted by the net tingled in the flavor of Sister Nightingale's emotions. Oh, very good, Beldan thought. Could he give her up, now that she was so well trained? Alas, probably better so.

Simplicity tonight. Beldan knelt behind her, the cot groaning with his weight. He reached under his belly and guided his cock into his Voice's twat. So hot and delicious.

"Sing for me, my Voice," he commanded.

Sister Nightingale raised her face from the cot and sang Xelta's Victory. Amazingly steady and sweet her voice was, even as she was being fucked. What a prize. He had had the best of her, he congratulated himself. Had taken the best.

Tuning into her feelings through the net, Beldan fucked into her teasingly, tauntingly, bringing her close to a climax. Now to push her over. He could feel how much she liked it deep. Still her voice held. He couldn't quite get her to come, even as he knew his thrusts had brought her to the edge. Stubborn bitch. He felt his cock twitching, itchy at the trigger. Well. Time to throw the old bitch a bone. He twiddled a ring.

Sister Nightingale's voice hit a high note. Her cunt squeezed down hard on Beldan's cock as she convulsed in orgasm. The mirror on the table cracked. She broke down into cries, no, shrieks of pleasure as she bucked on his cock. Beldan held on tight to the Sister's heaving buttocks and came hard, long, deep into the helplessly climaxing woman's cunt.

He left Sister Nightingale wrung out, wet and limply falling into sleep, her furrow seeded but her petition yet unanswered. Tomorrow perhaps. He stepped out, pleased with himself.