The Tale of Alis

She smelled of citrus, vanilla, and honey, and brought me my meals on porcelain trays instead of plasteel like I preferred. Her curtsies were untrained and I wondered where they had found the girl. Some nutrient farm somewhere. She was brave too, barely shook when I spoke to her.

I could smell her fear though, intermingled with the sweet perfume. It made me want to hurt her. Hurt this delicate flower of a young woman. To **** her modesty and strip her of her unblemished dignity. I wanted to consume her. When we made eye contact through the dark of my messy chamber I knew she could tell. She could tell and it scared her.

It scared me too. If I took her like I wanted the curse would reign. I could not let that happen. So when she entered my chamber smelling of a kind of sunshine that never blessed this shadowy moon, I trembled along with her. The two of us shuddering at each other’s presence. Her with fear well deserved and I with exertion as the beast inside raged for me to indulge.

On the third cycle since she had started work at my tower I learned her name; Alis. It was a corruption of an ancient name and I liked it despite myself. When I saw her strawberry blonde head bob in her awkward stumbling half bows, I smiled because I knew I could call out to her with her own name and maybe know her. It was folly. Invariably my smile was replaced with a sneer as I traced the curves of her pale shoulders or caught glimpses of her slender wrists. How I would bite those shoulders! Pin those wrists! I was a giant to her. When the dam broke and I ravaged her it would be primal. She was a small prey and I a massive monster out of legend.

“Lord Sorcerer?” Her voiced called up to me.

“Hmm? Ah? Yes, Alis?” I had been too busy imagining. Idiot. Young, blundering fool. Control yourself.

She looked surprised I knew her name.

“Did you like your breakfast?”

“Ah? Yes, yes I did.” I had enjoyed breakfast. It had been oddly sweet. Not that I usually focused on what the servants or automata brought me to feed my body.

She beamed. “That is so good.” She screwed her eyes tight shut in a happy sort of scrunch. “I made it myself you see.”

“You made it?”

“Yes, my lord! No, nutrient blocks or rehydrates here. Real eggs from the bird the mistress let me have. Fruit from the trees I grew under the lamps, and real bread! I didn’t even know at first what bread was. The mistress said you would know. That you had liked it in ages past.” She stood there smiling up at me.

“You did that for me?” Suddenly the lack of memory of the food I had eaten disturbed me greatly. It had been sweet, what else?

“Yes my Lord Sorcerer.” Her hands were on her hips and her chest was thrust forward proudly. I noticed her fullness, the slight heaving of her large bust. That was inappropriate. I was deeply touched by her actions. Why though? For me? Why? What was her plan? Her motive? What was she planning?

“Why?!” I roared at her without meaning to. She was innocent but years of **** attempts told me to consume her. Psychically bite into her mind. Find out what she was planning in the most invasive way possible. I was panting and foaming at the mouth. My rage was boiling over, my erection never harder. “Why did you do that, Alis? Why!?” I needed her.

She ran crying from my chambers and I smashed my head into the wall hard enough to splinter the wood. With an errant thought I lifted and slammed my desk into the ceiling and watched the pieces rain down around me. I was a storm.

Pain, anger, lust, sadness, and something old and lost; love. I had to have the girl. Had to hold her, ravage her, kiss her, drink her in. The monster would have to heel. Heel long enough for me to court the girl who had dug through my library to make me bread. I cried tears of frustration. My cock tented my pants like an angry obelisk, contemptuous thing. In the sky lift she cried too. What a beast I was.