LOTHARIO: THE PLEASURE GOD

She got angry, stood up, grabbed me by my wrist and stormed to the commander's quarters, She skipped past the guards stationed at his door before they had a chance to stopped us and barged into his room. The commander was sitting on a desk, reading some scrolls, he frowned at our presence, 'What's the meaning of this?" He boomed.

My mother went into a prolonged diatribe, her words were barely coherent, at least for me. In essence, her diatribe was something about the commander breaking the deal they had, that i was supposed to be protected. She removed the scarf from my neck and showed him my bruises. The commander frowned at this, then he wore his combat garb, picked up his sword and left the room. We followed him.

We went on to the deck, the commander stood at the middle of ship. He said nothing but everybody seemed to know what to do as within moments everybody on the ship save for the prisoners gathered around him. He said nothing for awhile, and so we stood in silence, waiting.

The commander was a man of few words, he seldom spoke unless he had to, and he rarely had too. He was an imposing man, closer to seven than six feet. He had a dominating presence, even more so that day, even his men were nervous.

I watched as he stood, the wind blowing his flaming red hair. Then he pointed at my mother "That woman is my mark, and in extension so is her child. You touch them, you touch me. One of you have touched me. Come outside, now."

I saw Mouk amongst the small crowd, he was sweating nervously. He looked at me, shock written on his face. I looked to Aidra who refused to meet his eyes, he knew he was alone now. He made his way to the front, till he stood face to face with the commander, "Me lord" he said nervously "I ain't know the brat was your mark."

It appeared the commander did not even hear Mouk "Prepare yourself. I coming."

Mouk sighed "C'mon then you bastard"

He brought out knives from his shoes and got into a fighting stance.

It was over in an instance.

Dear reader, in the years to come i would see feats that matched the commander's and many that surpassed it, but in they were all supplemented with magic. The commander used no special abilities, this was simply his natural strength.

I saw Mouk's head fall to the ground before i even noticed everything. I was still staring at where the commander was. There was scattered gasps from the crowds as they too began to realise it.

The commander came towards me, his sword dripping in blood. I involuntarily took a step back.

"Who else?" he asked.

I looked at Aidra who frantically shook his head at me. I felt the scarf he gave me. I didn't want to give it back, so i pointed at him.

Aidra panicked "I didn't touch him my lord. It was Mouk, and Mouk alone." When he saw the commander start coming towards him "I have a daughter ser, a family please."

The commander simply ignored him, and raised his sword.

Aidra bolted, he clearly though he had better chances in the sea than against the commander, and so he jumped into the sea, without his head. The commander got him as soon as his feet left the floor.

"Coward," i heard the commander say in disgust.

Then he went back inside the ship, we followed him as people eyed us warily.

I felt the scarf. It was mine now, i was happy.

But deep down i knew i had done something terrible.

Even now, all these may years later, i still think that everything i have suffered through since then is a punishment for that moment.

The remaining weeks i spent on the ship came and went in a blur. Due to the public execution of Mouk and Aidra, I spent the time being largely undisturbed, even the children on the ship that occasionally bullied me steered clear from me. Although they did make faces at me when we locked eyes, and throw things at me when i wasn't looking.

None of this really bothered me really, my attention was solely on the Adria's scarf. I couldn't, not at that point at least explain my i was fascinated by it.

But eventually my interest in the scarf lessened, and other things took it's place for my obsession. When i finally got bored of the scarf, i threw it into the sea.

My mother used to tuck me in at night and telly me stories about our home land. She was rather vague about it, only telling me about myths and folklore, but never about our home itself. But she always made emphasis on the fact that i must live.

Then when she thought i had fallen asleep, she would leave. She would return just before dawn, and look haggard with a musky smell about her, a smell i will come to know all to well. I always wondered where she went but my curiosity was never strong enough for me to find out.

She would clean herself up after, and come to kiss my on my head or cheeks, then she would go to sleep.

This happened weeks after weeks until one day my curiosity got the better of me and i snuch out of bed and trailed after her when she left one evening.

I watched her go into the commander's room. There were two armed guards stationed outside him room. Although i wasn't sure why he needed protection. The man was more than capable of defending himself.

Then guards didn't bat an eyelid when she went into the room, they must have been used to seeing her.

I wanted know what was going on in the room but i knew the guards would never let me into the room. I needed a diversion. In a instant i had a light bulb moment. I would get many of this later in life. I was just as responsible for my fall just as much as it was for my rise.

I found a half-eaten apple in the kitchen, then i went to the prison. I threw the apple into the prison, and it hit a woman on the head. She glared towards my direction but it was unlikely that she saw me, i used the shadows as cover.

She bent to pick up the apple and sniffed it. The she jook a tiny piece of the apple and ate it. Then she ate a huge chunk, but just before she could take another bite another woman grabbed it from her "Where'd you get this apple bitch". The woman who had an apple taken from let out a chilling scream, and chaos ensued.

Guards game quickly and tried to quell the noise, but it seemed to make matters worse. One of the guards ran off to get help.

In a short while, the guard returned with the two other guards that stood in front of the commander's room. That was my cue, i left unseen and went to the commander's room.

The door was closed, so peeped through the keyhole. Then i saw a scene that would take years to unravel in my mind.

The room was lit by the flickering light of a single oil lamp, casting long shadows across the sparse, yet opulent, quarters of the commander. The walls were lined with dark wood, carved with intricate scenes of battle and conquest, the floor covered with a thick rug made from the fur of some beast I couldn't name. A heavy, ornate desk stood against one wall, scattered with scrolls and maps, but it was the large bed, draped in heavy, velvet curtains, that held my attention.

My mother, of moderate height, perhaps five feet seven or eight, seemed almost diminutive next to the towering figure of the commander. His flaming red hair, wild and untamed, framed his face as he hovered over her, their bodies entwined in a manner that was both intimate and foreign to my young eyes.

They were in what I now understand to be the missionary position. My mother lay on her back, her legs spread wide, the commander's large, muscular body between them. His cock, thick and engorged, moved in and out of her, each thrust causing her to moan, the sound rising above the creaking of the ship. "You are beginning to enjoy this, aren't you, beneath all that feigned disinterest?" the commander teased, his voice a deep rumble, his hips grinding into hers, making her gasp with each deep penetration.

Her response was a moan, followed by words sharp with bitterness, "I do what I must for my child, not for pleasure, commander." Yet, her body told a different story. Her back arched, pressing her breasts against his chest, her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, her wetness audible, a slick, rhythmic sound accompanying their union. Her nails clawed at his back, leaving red trails.

It went on for what felt like hours till they changed positions. Now, she was on all fours, her body a gentle curve in the dim light, her ass raised, inviting. The commander positioned himself behind her. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding himself into her with a slow, deliberate thrust that made her cry out, a sound of both pleasure and pain. The room filled with the slap of skin against skin, the wet sounds of their coupling, her moans growing louder, more desperate with each movement. "Even now, I see the pleasure in your eyes," he goaded, his thrusts becoming more forceful, her breasts swinging with each impact, her face a mask of ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream as she neared her climax.

He leaned over her, his chest against her back, his breath hot in her ear, "You're mine, in this, at least." His hand reached around, finding her clit, circling it with his thumb, intensifying her moans into cries, her body trembling under his touch. The room was filled with the symphony of their bodies, a song of flesh and breath, of moans and whispers. Then his movements got stiffer and the commander let out a low growl, then he fell beside her.

The room went quiet save for their heavy breathing, then the commander's voice rumbled again, "Another round, then?" But my heart leapt into my throat as I heard the commotion from the prison grow completely quiet. The guards were returning. Fear propelled me away from the keyhole, my young feet scurrying back to my bunk, the vivid, raw images of my mother and the commander seared into my memory.

It wasn't until years later, with the innocence of childhood long behind me, that I pieced together the complexities of what I had seen - the dance of power, survival, and the blurred lines between consent and coercion. That night, I learned more about the world, about my mother, and about the harsh realities of life than any child should, all through the narrow view of a keyhole.