Chants and vocalizing consumed the Great Hall.
Feyd lowered my leg off his shoulder. It touched the floor gently before he plucked the sword from my head. It was sheathed back to his side where it belonged.
Dark teeth showed in a smirk as he led the way back to the high seat upon the dais. My wrist remained wrapped within his fingers.
The attention clearly pleased him. His chest widened with pride as he addressed the whole of the Great Hall.
"Lady Mintha, of House Harkonnen," he proclaimed for all to hear.
The throne was a sole chair perched high above the congress of his people. Below him sat a high table where all the blooded nobility sat. My place was there, with the other regarded favorites of Harkonnen house. The Baron only ever sat on the high seat. Alone. Not even Feyd stood upon it, at royal gatherings or celebrations.
A ruler stood alone at the head of his fief, as I believed.
Some nobles were from Arrakeen, ones I recognized from the Baron's planet, and others from Glossu's old court since I did not know them.
The high table was full of the nobles already. My stomach soured. Their laughter was already boisterous. Who knew just how much wine they'd had? I scanned for a suitable space to sit -not next to any who were scoundrels - when my wrist was not released. Feyd pulled me up the dais with him.
The throne was a widened seat. It could have fit both of us side by side.
If only he intended for that.
I was sat on his lap like a trophy of his efforts. His prize.
His hands were on me. They ran down the sides of my flesh. Devious swirls of his fingers delighted the buzz I had.
The people of the city finally began to share in the celebrations. Their cheer was warm and joyous. Energy around the castle turned to a true party.
My success felt all the better now that I'd been able to do something Feyd could not.
"They honor you, na-Baron," I observed.
Carthag was nothing like I expected: fear and gruesome abuses of power.
The people were happy. They knew how to feel. They behaved human.
Their culture did not honor death as a great entertainment. A dance was entertaining, an honor to them.
I looked at their sun-stained faces with adoration. How I wished I could have lived amongst them, full of life. Blessed with so much heat that they had to fight against it.
I would have been a person that could have felt things. For people.
Perhaps then I could have given Feyd the emotion he sought in me.
"You will be blessed with good luck," I told him.
He shifted. My body moved with his. "Is that right?"
"Yes, na-Baron."
His hand toyed with the bare curve of my hip. It sent zapping tingles up my sides.
My breasts fell heavier against my chest. The weight made it harder to breathe.
What was this feeling my body polluted me with? The air was electric. Laughter filled it with a sweetness I loved against my tongue. Inside, I was alive with sensation.
"I was about to drag you here myself," he revealed lowly. "This night needed both of us. Your first introduction as my consort."
Food and drink were produced from the stores of the castle. Children squealed in delight as cups were placed within their hands. Cups full of water.
Their little smiles with chubby cheeks were the fullest genuine expressions ever held.
I sank against Feyd's hold. His arm moved around to keep me in place.
"Your first introduction to Arrakis."
I observed the people below us. I understood the loneliness from the height. There was isolation at the top. Witness to the cheer, but could not join in.
It was the place Feyd should remain. Far away.
His joy did not need to be shared with the people. It would end with pain. Pain was the one thing I did not want to stain this night.
A tray of little delicacies came to the head table. The nobles devoured sweets and savories. The cheer at their table did not bother me. The peoples of the city were alive with another level of joy of the untainted kind. Smiles, dancing, true laughter of merriment surrounded us all. Let the nobles consume their wealth with bared teeth.
I slipped off the throne. Feyd's fingers lingered on my skirt as it slipped down the long stair.
"Lady." The servant woman bowed. Her long curly hair was tucked below a head cover.
She showed her tray of sweets. Their cocoa brown bodies were wrapped within a slight candied rind. I took a small bite. Delirious and smooth, the flavor was rich. Its sweetness was creamy. I adored its taste.
I grabbed another and climbed back to Feyd's side. "Taste," I told him.
He eyed the piece between my fingers.
His hands gripped each of my hips as I sat back down on his leg. The thumbs caressed me as he remained reclined, staring at the dessert and at me.
Of course, I realized why he could not. There was not that much trust.
"Oh," I said as I encountered the reasoning. "I can taste it first."
A line of dark teeth showed. They smiled.
"I have no doubt you will," he said.
He opened his mouth.
I placed my fingers delicately inside his mouth just enough for the piece to drop to his tongue. However, he sucked them inside. A wicked wet dance tantalized my fingers. I felt the rolling rippling of his tongue as it pulled every ounce off my fingers.
Feyd released my fingers, not bitten. I looked at them with disbelief.
He gestured his servant close. "Wine." They produced wine. "Do not let hers ever empty."
I smiled against the rim of the glass. Its tangy tart flavor singed my tastebuds with its strength.
He sipped his wine and appraised my body in a calm way. It was an enjoyment for his eyes. His lips licked the edge of his wine glass.
His lips did not betray his thoughts. I did not ask them.
I felt as though I knew what they were. The bulge in his pants rested against me. It twitched when I moved against him.
"Does na-Baron wish for another taste. I spy the server just over there."
"Another taste. Hmm." He hummed into my ear. "I'd kill for one."
He did not mean the sweets.
My body went hot. I stepped down the stairs of the throne seat with a distinct knowledge that I was being baited into lust and it did not irritate me. I recalled a time with Feyd. It washed over me with a prickling awareness that the minimal skirt would do little to hide the scent of my arousal.
The crowd danced. Their joyous smiles lit an ember of happiness within my chest. I walked through the people, absorbing the expressions and feelings as I moved, when I was met by a large mass of a man.
There was no introduction needed. I knew a Beast when I saw one.
Glossu Rabban peered down at me from his height. "You. You sit on a throne, but you are no better than the rats of the desert."
Wow. Right off the bat.
Unlikeable people clearly ran in the family.
I took a step away from this mountain of a monster.
His sausage fingers reached out and grasped the beaded chains. The repulsion I felt from his touch diffused only when the chains cut my skin and finally broke.
The beads scattered across the floor.
Somehow, it made the room stop.
"What are you?" The Beast asked. "Prisoner. You are no noble." His eyes looked over me now. I could have puked. "Slave. Ah, yes. Slave. I see it now."
This man could crush my ribs in one single swipe.
The warmth of my own blood spilled down my sides. It did not register as painful. Nor could his words pierce me deeper than his brothers cock.
My chin leveled with his. "I am na-Baron's consort. The lady witch of Harkonnen House." I looked at the floor below his feet before I met his beady gaze. "Prisoner no more."
The Beast raised an arm. "Lady! Ha!" He moved to swing it against my face.
It was caught at the last second by a short dagger. The blade did not go straight through the arm, but it was enough to control him down to the floor.
A body quickly moved after it with control of the blade under their hold.
I'd not heard him approach or felt him near. His presence would have shocked me if I could feel a shred through the ice cold crust frozen atop me.
Feyd pushed his weight against the knife that was plunged into his brother's wrist. "You." He hissed.
Glossu groaned out at the pain. "You-you cannot have a Lady."
Feyd kneeled down. He twisted the knife deeper, watching the pain course through his brothers face. His dark teeth gritted in pure loathing.
"She's not real!" Glossu declared.
Feyd enjoyed the way the big boy seized under his pain. "I've got my own consort. You know what that means, don't you? My line will live on while yours gets buried in the sand. Ah, well. Dick's still broken isn't it, Glossu? That's why you beat the prisoners so hard. Can't get it up. Nothing excites the thing, does it?"
He turned to me and swiped his finger against my wound. The bloody finger raised to his lips.
He turned back to face the large man reaching up for the knife buried within his ragged body flesh.
"You let our harvesters get destroyed, the Atriedes heir escape and now you insult my lady." Feyd squatted. "Kiss my boots, brother."
Glossu refused and shook his head. Feyd did not accept the answer. He demanded over and over, even stepping upon his arm to bury the blade deeper into bone, until the large man relented. He kissed the boots of his younger brother.
Feyd spat at the floor. "You dishonor the family, Glossu."
I hoped it was the end.
Feyd gestured to me to his side. My stomach soured to the thought of being brought closer to the slain beast on the floor.
"Now kiss hers."
Glossu looked up with a broken stare.
Feyd remained squatted as a vulture to his brother's pain. His hand ran down my leg. At least a comfort to know he'd not let the Beast tear it from my body.
"You disrespected the lady of my house and overstepped your position," Feyd explained. "Kiss her feet. Atone for your mistake. Or insult my honor and see how far that gets you."
Glossu lifted to kiss my bare toes – a prospect I was not keen to endure – but was met, instead, with a sudden fist to the bottom of his chin. It knocked him out. Cold. Blood leaked from his arm into the tile floors as he laid still.
Feyd lifted my foot to instead kiss it in place of his brother.
The room was dead silent. I swore not a single person breathed.
"Captain Rurik." Feyd's voice rang through the silence.
The hefty man presented himself to his master's beckon.
"Get him out of here. Drop him outside the kitchen doors. Let him burn when the sun comes up."
The Beast was a gigantic man. Captain Rurik was a single man with one arm in a sling. It would not happen fast.
I expected the celebration to stop with the foulness of violence fresh in our minds. Though the city partied harder in Glossu's demise. Their excited chants rose to unfathomable heights now in the Beast's slaying.
Feyd pulled me onto his throne atop his lap. He felt the cuts in my skin. His lips tasted the fresh blood with a seductive sucking to his fingers.
Or, maybe it was me who felt it seductive.
"I thought you were going to let him kiss me," I blurted.
"I'd be dead before another man touched you without permission," he said. "And even then." He paused. The flesh of his thick pouty lips was stained with the red of my blood. "I'd have to kill him."
We watched the party pass by our eyes. It was a true celebration after Glossu was finally pulled from the hall.
The food, the cheer, the wine. It all flowed in endless rivers onto the people of the Great Hall with no limit. Hungers were satisfied at the end of Feyd's hand.
I watched the line of blood as it stained the floors. The Beast's trail.
"Why did you not kill him, na-Baron?" I glanced at the young heir.
There was so much rage when Feyd confronted his brother. It did not match Glossu's crime. He'd not actually laid a hand on me.
Glossu was a member of Harkonnen House. He was permitted to kill more than I was permitted to live.
He'd picked me out as a lesser being right away.
Feyd swallowed his wine. "Let him live on with his dishonor."
"You hate him."
"Yes," he said lowly. "I hate him."
My heart sputtered to beat again. "But why? He is your brother."
Feyd went silent for a while. I expected the question to go unanswered.
I watched the dancing again.
"He was taken first. Before I was born." His tone was forced to be so strong. It made the gravel in his voice worse. "And he still let him live long enough to take me," Feyd said. "Glossu stopped being my brother that day. He now lives in my shadow. I want it to eat him alive. All that could have been his, is mine. My fief, my Lady, my rule. All because he couldn't do what he should have."
I laid my head to shoulder. His arms held tighter to me.
My lips did not ask more about Glossu. I knew what I needed to. And why it was better that way.
Back in the Baron's castle, Feyd-Rautha was known to party the latest of them all. He would fight gladiators and drink and feast and fight some more poor souls he encountered before he finally retired early the next day.
This night he did remain in attendance until a late hour. He asked to slay something in my name. I disliked the idea of his violence being used to woo me. I declined, stating the late hour. My arms stretched out to show how tired I'd become.
Feyd then leaned over and muttered into my ear, "You tire too easily. There are still my hungers that have not been satisfied."
Light bubbles of warmth swirled my stomach. Their airy bodies ascended my mouth. My eyes glazed. The energy of the room, of Feyd, of my own desires only fought against the sheer numbness I kept over me.
My mouth swallowed another large gulp of wine. It no longer burned but swirled its sweetness atop my tongue.
"Then retire quicker, na-Baron,." I leaned forward close to his face. My hot breath touched the sides of his cheeks. "Before your meal spoils."
He left the Great Hall with haste. Me right by his side, excitedly pulled along down corridors I did not know and would not remember.
My entire focus was on the Baron's heir with whom I intended to be pleased by, over and over and over again.
Just as animals did.
The chambers were not the same as the ones I knew from before. They were dark and grey and cold and lifeless. The only color was the painting hung above the bed.
A monster bit and pulled at a lifeless corpse within its grasp. Blood dripped down the small body. The brightest shade of red was there.
"Your chambers, na-Baron?"
"Ours," he corrected.
I looked at him curiously. His hands yanked the formal outer coat and the subsequent taut short sleeve shirt underneath.
"For the next few days it is ours until I've broken the bed or you."
The thick four poster bed was slick and cold. Just as the beds back from where we'd come, when I was first moved into the guest wing and given a bed of my own. The slick sheets that gave no warmth, and the strong metal that refused to bend.
My fingers ran along the footboard. "It is strong, na-Baron."
The painted bite marks were a stark difference against his pale skin.
He emerged deeper in the room after me, pinning my ass against the bed frame, unable to move.
"Then I guess it'll be you who breaks."
Fucked to death did not sound so bad.
I had never considered it possible. If it could, he would have done it by now.
The seriousness in his eyes convinced me maybe it was possible. Not only possible, but his intention to break my bones with his cock inside me so he might feel something.
I dragged the tips of fingers along the center of his chest. The black paint over his heart was warmed. It smeared in rivers.
If I could choose a way he killed me, it would be that way.
One way he could truly honor me.
"Only if I can break you too."
A dark menacing smile grew. "I welcome it, my lady." He leaned forward. Our noses brushed. "Break me," he whispered. "Hard."
I shuddered. The wall of numbness dropped away. The surrender of my control fell at our feet.
A stuffed chair sat a short step away from the bed.
"Would na-Baron like me to dance?"
He let me guide him toward the chair and push him down in the seat. I was buzzed on the wine and less afraid of everything. I danced like I'd done before, around him, against him, atop his lap. My hips circled and swirled against him. The thin skirt even rubbed against my own sex as I moved.
It was subtle and slow. The way I worked my body over him with the addition of his ravenous eyes sparked desire within me like I'd never known.
For once, I felt drawn in want of what he could do.
Feyd restrained himself for long enough. He held me backward into his lap. His cock was hard through the soft stretch of his trousers. It slipped against my ass cheeks as he positioned me on his body. My skirt ripped as it pulled it aside.
The scent of my arousal was strong in the air, a perfume to it now.
His fingers slithered across the fabric until he reached the center of my heat. He reached through my folds to find my clit within my flesh and was instead barricaded from it.
He growled. "What did I say about these?" A small blade opened at the flick of his wrist. He lowered the knife to my panties.
He could not see what he did, but I knew he'd cut the fabric and nothing else. His blade was as good as an appendage to him.
The cool metal slipped down through the waistband of the material. It brushed against my swollen clit. My thighs trembled.
Feyd slowed his motions. His hot breath pushed against my ear. "My lady witch. Have you already been used today?"
I shook my head. The blade slowly dragged upward to brush my clit once more. Thighs jiggled their pleasure for him to see.
"No, na-Baron." I breathed through my heavy chest.
Everything was so hot. My body was filled with not ice in my veins but fire. Fire that yearned to be fed.
Feyd tilted the knife and sliced through my panties. The cool fresh air rushed to dispel my heat. But instead, it fueled it.
I gasped out in exaggerated breaths.
"Did my lady arouse herself with her own fingers? Hm?" He slipped his long fingers inside my hole to reveal the truth of me so deep.
A groan rumbled from his chest as he slipped around finger inside with some resistance, but not much.
"No, na-Baron."
Feyd grew irritated. The edge of his teeth nipped the back of my shoulder. "Tell me what's made you this way. Potion, elixir? Something the slaves gave you for your dance. Hm?"
"It was you, na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Just you."
His fingers slipped deeper still. They moved and swirled and brought the fire to every inch of myself. A thumb rattled at my clit.
His teeth held to my shoulder as I was worked over by his fingers. Warm saliva mixed with blood dripped down my back. It left little rivers that were hotter still than the burning of my body.
My thighs trembled violently as I came onto his fingers.
Feyd then lifted me up. He tossed me down to the oversized bed. I landed half-naked, bleeding, dripping from climax and I still wanted more.
He removed the last of his clothing. A large cock bobbed free of his trousers. It physically throbbed.
"I am going to fuck you like the Empress of the Imperium should be fucked every night."
An empress was a woman of power and confidence.
She held the entire Imperium within her palm.
She did not get fucked; she fucked.
I tried to push Feyd to the bed. He resisted the idea.
"I do not go on the bottom."
"You'll like it,na-Baron."
"A man goes on top," he said. "The woman on the bottom. He does the work, he is in charge."
I'd not seen him so distraught about something like that. He pushed me against walls and over railings. We'd done things with a wild stance, but this was a limit he had: a woman being on top.
Feyd shifted. He looked full of discomfort and anger at the suggestion.
"I am not taking away the power." I spoke calm and gentle. "I am showing you how good I want you to feel."
He looked at me with burning eyes.
My hand ran down the length of his forearm. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He was hesitant to climb closer. He reached over and kissed me deep as he settled his back against the bed.
I swung my leg over his torso. Each hand of his latched onto my waist.
We were both inexperienced at the act of it, so it was not the jutting savage fuck we typically did.
I lowered myself slowly onto his shaft. He never removed his fierce eyes from my face. And I wish he had because I felt my eyes bulge as more and more length went into me.
This was not about his pleasure. Even though I saw his eyes flutter backward into his head as I circled my hips around his, this was more for me. My pleasure. My wants. My choice of man whom I laid with.
Feyd was another man completely. He did not use my body for his own. He beheld me astride his body in awe. The hands that held me were mere riders to my own rhythm. I swirled my hips. The reach inside me was glorious to the point of discomfort.
I pulled his hands away from my waist. One wrapped around my breast. The other curled fingers against my throat.
"Do I please you, na-Baron?"
His body moved upright. My breasts pressed against his chest. The taste of his breath fresh against my lips.
Feyd muttered, "Yes. You please me."
His hands wrapped around my back and held me against him whilst his hips moved in slow strokes.
Every motion was soft surrender. Not violent. Not urgent.
We kissed like it was the first time our lips met. It was cautious. We savored the motions of the other, the tastes of our salvia joined like a sweetness all our own. Never to be shared.
The rest of the night carried on in the same fashion. Our bodies relished every sensation of the other. It was controlled, so long and slow.
There was a point where we'd just kissed like there was no pleasure to be found except in the others mouth. We forgot about the rest.
Feyd filled me over and over until even he could not spill anymore.
Exhausted pulled my eyes closed. I laid within his bed unable to move.
His body snuggled against me. He inhaled long breathed from the crook of my neck, running his fingers against the slick sheen of my sweat.
I awoke sometime in the morning with an irritation at the cropped top of my outfit that still held me inside its restraint. My arms tore at it. It awoke the sleeping monster beside me. Feyd reached over to the side table. A knife was in plain sight. He brought it close and slid the blade down the seams until it resembled nothing of a top. The remnants were tossed by the throw of his arm.
I groaned and rolled back into the warm of the blankets. Which happened to be where his body laid.
I'd been too exhausted to think about how he might respond to my touch.
I slipped my arms between his and snuggled my face against his bare chest.
There came a time where I'd rolled back onto my own side away from him. He slid up behind me. The warmth of his chest pressed into my spine.
Fingers walked down my belly with only location in mind.
"Mintha." His voice was low like a moan. "I want you."
"Mm. I want you too, Feyd," slipped from my lips.
A bulbous head pressed against my entrance. His fingers rubbed my clit. My body responded to it.
My mind, however, was checked out. I remained half asleep as he pressed into my warmth.
He spent himself and collapsed against me. The rasp of his moans, how excited he was even after he'd cum. I had no idea what got into him. He was insatiable.