Rising Ch.1

Ahma swallowed and nodded, pulling on her thin, soaked dress. She said farewell to Hannah, who watched her go sadly before returning to her bathing.
The Steward’s quarters were supposed to be on the first floor with all the other servants. He had, since the Masters death, taken the liberty of moving into the Master’s wife’s room, which had been undisturbed since her death. Until the Steward had his way, that is. This, more than almost anything else, made Ahma hate the Steward. He was a cruel man, he was a selfish man, he was an oaf and a pig and a bully, but all that Ahma could accept, and even expect to a degree; servants who grasped power abused it nearly as much as nobles, in her experience. What she could not accept was the callousness with which the Steward had disrespected the departed, both the Master and his wife as well.

The Steward was sitting in his dimly lit room, staring out his window, his chair facing away from her. His bed was enormous, loaded down with pillows and silk sheets and blankets of nearly every color, with a huge canopy engraved with rare silver threads. The bed that had been in the room before was not rich enough for him, so he had had it thrown out and replaced with the current one with no thought to the disrespect he did. A large hearth was set opposite the bed, and a dull fire crackled inside, burning low from not being tended. A large desk sat before the window, facing toward it, and it was littered with piles of documents and management information that he was responsible for but hadn’t been touched in weeks.

“You summoned me?” Ahma said softly, her voice barely a whisper. She hugged herself tightly as she stood just behind the Steward’s chair. Her stomach was in knots.
“You Wingling Women have no shame,” the Steward’s scratchy voice came.
“I do not understand,” Ahma replied. She felt like there was a trap before her, and she was setting her foot into its jaws.
“Of course you do,” the Steward snapped. “You women have no decency and self restraint. Animals of the basest instinct. You caper about tempting and corrupting good men and poison our Human society with your obscene practices. Like those right there.”

The Steward pointed with a thick finger out the window. Ahma drew closer and glanced out the window. Her breath caught. Gazing through the gloom of the rain and the naked branches of the trees, Ahma could clearly see Hannah rinsing the last of the soap from her body and slowly pulling on her dress. Neither of them had realized the Steward’s window overlooked those gardens! Ahma had only even been inside the room a handful of times before, and on those occasions the draperies had been pulled to block the view outside.
“You do not understand,” Ahma began, but the Steward cut her short with a wave of his hand.
“Come here,” he demanded as if speaking to a dog.

Ahma swallowed the bile in her throat and walked around to the front of the desk to slowly face him.
The Steward was not an entirely disgusting man. He was short, overfed, but not quite fat. His hair was beginning to recede, but he wasn’t balding yet. He wasn’t young, and he wasn’t old. His face, though a bit heavy through the jowls and over red through the cheeks, wasn’t misshapen or marred by any particular faults. But his appearance was set in a perpetual scowl. Every finger on his hand was clad in a gaudy and fake ring he had bought with a large part of last months food budget. Ahma hated him.

“I understand all I need to,” the Steward said. “I understand you people are filthy low bred scum, and that you need me to keep you in line. I understand that you have evil ways that corrupt the soul of Man and we Humans were right to chase your people out of their little nests. And I know you understand what you have to do to keep what little feed you and the other bird get.”
Ahma swallowed and nodded, once. She willed her mind to go blank and make herself go numb inside. If it was just for her own good she would never comply with the Steward. But Hannah would be suffering too, and that she couldn’t abide by.

She pulled the Stewards cock from his trousers and began to trace her tongue over the head, forcing herself not to shudder in revulsion and get the task over with. Her tongue swirled around the head as he had taught her to do and she licked her way down the shaft, leaving a trail of sticky saliva along his flesh. The Steward leered down at her and leaned back in his chair.

Ahma moved her mouth back up the Steward’s cock and slid it between her lips, sucking slowly on the head before easing more of his meat into her mouth. She wrapped her pale, slender fingers around the bottom of his shaft and began to jack him off. She sucked at his prick, her plump pink lips gliding wetly along the fleshy pole as her cheeks hollowed to suck at him. She bobbed her head along the Stewards dick, trying to please him as thoroughly, and thus quickly, as she could.

He thrust his hips forward, sneering as she almost gagged when his cock slid deeper than before. Ahma swallowed her bitter humiliation and slurped on him harder, her tongue sliding firmly along his underside as he thrust his manhood in and out of her mouth.

“Use your bosom, bird,” the Steward commanded. Ahma pulled her mouth from his throbbing cock and undid the front of her thin, plain dress. She pulled her enormous breasts out and wrapped them firmly around the Steward’s saliva coated cock.

He thrust hard, driving his cock between her heavy, bouncing breasts. Ahma bit her lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her gasp at how his cock pumped roughly between her tender breasts. The steward fucked her breasts for several moments, his slick, saliva coated cock sawing in and out between Ahma’s soft plentiful breasts, which easily swallowed up his rather average sized manhood. She gripped the sides of her breasts together and squeezed them tightly around the Steward’s pumping member. They quivered and jiggled with each thust. The Steward reached out and grabbed a handful of her breasts and held them tightly. Ahma bit her lip harder, nearly making it bleed as she suppressed a moan of pain at his bruising grip. The cock slid wetly in and out of her deep cleavage, making soft slurping sounds as her fleshy breasts crushed down around it.

Ahma saw the now familiar twitch in the Steward’s face and quickly pulled her breasts free, cramming his cock back into her mouth. Never one to last long, the twitch always signaled the Steward’s orgasm. The man had already cum on all over her breasts once and her face twice; she didn’t wish to repeat the experience. He grabbed the back of her head and thrust in deeply, making her gag again and drool heavily upon his cock. She allowed herself to blush now that he couldn’t see her face properly, letting her shame and embarrassment show through at last.

The Steward let out a scratchy groan as he began to cum into her mouth, his thin, salty semen splashing wetly down her throat and coating the back of her tongue. She swallowed quickly, having learned the first time how easily he could gag her with his seed if she didn’t. He spurted several more small bursts of spunk down her throat before finally settling back in his seat. Ahma swallowed the last of the load, trying not to let her queasiness show lest the Steward become displeased and cut of her food despite her efforts. At least this time she hadn’t been able to taste his seed well.

“Keep doing as you are told and you will continue to eat,” the Steward said dismissively, and turned his attention back outside the window as if she had ceased to exist.

Ahma let herself out of the Steward’s room and leaned against the wall for a few moments to shake. She wiped away angry tears, almost as mad at herself for allowing the Steward to do this to her as she was at him for doing it. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t let Hannah suffer if she would help it. The older Wingling woman had been her support for years, and especially so since the Master passed.

She glanced out the window set in the hall. The sun was beginning to set, heralding the evening meal. She wasn’t hungry…the feeling of the Steward’s seed swimming in her belly made her want to rid herself of the morning meal and turned her stomach from thoughts of even more food.

She leaned her forehead against the windows cool glass, gazing longingly at the sky. She had told Hannah to keep faith and follow the old ways…but Ahma had not prayed to the sky in some time…not since it had been robbed of her and she had become grounded by the Steward’s will. It seemed wrong, somehow, to pray to something you could not be a part of.

Tears flowed down Ahma’s cheeks, unchecked this time. She mouthed a shaky prayer to Father Sky to deliver her from the misery she had been led into. It was a hollow prayer, and that hurt most of all.
Ahma felt her stomach churn and when she thought of what the Steward had robbed from her. She dashed down stairs and out the kitchen door to empty her stomach of the Stewards seed.

Chapter 2 coming soon. Post here all comments, questions or critiques!