The 6th of Six (The Legend of Kimraig Llu) by J. K. (Keith) Wilson Page B
Authors: J. K. (Keith) Wilson
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was, every nerve demanding attention. In seconds, she forgot it was her first time and helped him consume her.
Get hold of yourself Leader Breen, he will not remember you. One night with a young girl is nothing to him! He serviced dozens, perhaps tens of dozens during those Mating Rituals.
Her knowledge of him did not end with their mating. She sought the company of each new Queen as they accepted Kimraig as their Hunter. She listened intently as they bragged about his powers on their sleeping mats. Breen cataloged the information vowing to use those powers to control him.
Males were so transparent.
That thought did not help. Leader Breen’s memories ruled now—her mating—the day she had helped him consume her.
She stood with her back to the entry of the bright ritual space, nose straight ahead, locked toward the mirrored wall with the double sleeping mat at its base. Her back was stiff. Broad young shoulders straight and almost at parade rest except for arms hanging tightly at her sides. She waited impatiently with her eyes open and fixed.
A simple, daily-issue, sleeping gown did little to hide the sensual swell of her narrow hips or her buttocks, both of which tested the strength of the press-close fastenings that held the gown together at her back.
She chose to display her defiance by refusing to wear the paper gown with the fastenings to the front as ritual required. She would not give herself to any male. He would have to take her by force.
Her tormentor would have to rip the gown from her and force her to the mat. She would not help him, no matter how much she needed this to be over. The cameras behind the mirror would record only a frightened young girl trying to use a throw away gown to save herself.
Breen forced herself away from the reality of what had happened. She tried to ignore that first time, just as she had ignored other Hunters who had failed to satisfy the burning need that Kimraig had left. Now, the sensual bits forced their way back in.
On that day, it had been Breen’s 14th birthday. She was frightened, but defiant. She had refused to acknowledge the Leader’s right to require “one birth per female.” However, she would not waste time on futile negations. She selected the first day she was eligible to move forward. If she waited for her sixteenth birthday, as most did, she would be seventeen before she could train as a Queen.
Kimraig, one half year past his 16th birthday, was technically too old to consummate the ritual. The leaders broke their own rules, not because he was gentle, or experienced, but because his sperm produced the most males.
Leader Breen could feel Kimraig now, outside her entry panel.
Tonight, he would not be able to break her block. Tonight she would control him. She sensed he had some other motive besides the sex that she encountered in his thoughts. The entry panel closed behind him. She communicated mentally with her two Hunters. Both were over six-feet tall—unusual for male Builders. They moved to the hallway from an adjacent room taking station at her door.
She touched both minds with her thoughts and ordered— no one is to enter.
When Kimraig saw her standing in Leaders robes, hands on hips, he knew tonight would be all business. The last thing on her mind was an evening of fun.
“Congratulations on your promotion Leader Breen,” he said.
“Noted. Please join me at the worktable.”
Kimraig smiled. If anything, she was more abrupt than usual, if that were possible. Patience. He was in her domain.
“First, I expect you to follow my commands at all times. I will not have you flitting off on tangents as you seem prone to do.” Leader Breen opened her copy of his Action Plan, laying it on the table. It contained her altered plan for the building he called One Nine, the Builders Number 6 Building—her future. Spaced at regular intervals along the top edge were bright red page markers. She opened the report with the first.
Kimraig noticed there
Get hold of yourself Leader Breen, he will not remember you. One night with a young girl is nothing to him! He serviced dozens, perhaps tens of dozens during those Mating Rituals.
Her knowledge of him did not end with their mating. She sought the company of each new Queen as they accepted Kimraig as their Hunter. She listened intently as they bragged about his powers on their sleeping mats. Breen cataloged the information vowing to use those powers to control him.
Males were so transparent.
That thought did not help. Leader Breen’s memories ruled now—her mating—the day she had helped him consume her.
She stood with her back to the entry of the bright ritual space, nose straight ahead, locked toward the mirrored wall with the double sleeping mat at its base. Her back was stiff. Broad young shoulders straight and almost at parade rest except for arms hanging tightly at her sides. She waited impatiently with her eyes open and fixed.
A simple, daily-issue, sleeping gown did little to hide the sensual swell of her narrow hips or her buttocks, both of which tested the strength of the press-close fastenings that held the gown together at her back.
She chose to display her defiance by refusing to wear the paper gown with the fastenings to the front as ritual required. She would not give herself to any male. He would have to take her by force.
Her tormentor would have to rip the gown from her and force her to the mat. She would not help him, no matter how much she needed this to be over. The cameras behind the mirror would record only a frightened young girl trying to use a throw away gown to save herself.
Breen forced herself away from the reality of what had happened. She tried to ignore that first time, just as she had ignored other Hunters who had failed to satisfy the burning need that Kimraig had left. Now, the sensual bits forced their way back in.
On that day, it had been Breen’s 14th birthday. She was frightened, but defiant. She had refused to acknowledge the Leader’s right to require “one birth per female.” However, she would not waste time on futile negations. She selected the first day she was eligible to move forward. If she waited for her sixteenth birthday, as most did, she would be seventeen before she could train as a Queen.
Kimraig, one half year past his 16th birthday, was technically too old to consummate the ritual. The leaders broke their own rules, not because he was gentle, or experienced, but because his sperm produced the most males.
Leader Breen could feel Kimraig now, outside her entry panel.
Tonight, he would not be able to break her block. Tonight she would control him. She sensed he had some other motive besides the sex that she encountered in his thoughts. The entry panel closed behind him. She communicated mentally with her two Hunters. Both were over six-feet tall—unusual for male Builders. They moved to the hallway from an adjacent room taking station at her door.
She touched both minds with her thoughts and ordered— no one is to enter.
When Kimraig saw her standing in Leaders robes, hands on hips, he knew tonight would be all business. The last thing on her mind was an evening of fun.
“Congratulations on your promotion Leader Breen,” he said.
“Noted. Please join me at the worktable.”
Kimraig smiled. If anything, she was more abrupt than usual, if that were possible. Patience. He was in her domain.
“First, I expect you to follow my commands at all times. I will not have you flitting off on tangents as you seem prone to do.” Leader Breen opened her copy of his Action Plan, laying it on the table. It contained her altered plan for the building he called One Nine, the Builders Number 6 Building—her future. Spaced at regular intervals along the top edge were bright red page markers. She opened the report with the first.
Kimraig noticed there
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