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Tell Me to Stop

Chapter 12

Izra was glad for Daphne when she managed to sleep that night in the temple, though she didn't sleep very well. He noticed her tossing and turning all night as he sat with his back against the bench she slept on. No doubt her mind was wrestling with everything she had learned about her mother. Izra felt guilty that he, too, had known about Queen Aurora while Daphne had been ignorant. Had he known she was unaware, he might have found some way to tell her.

Eventually, Artesda returned to find Daphne sleeping. He looked at Izra, and Izra was surprised when his golden eyes were soft as he asked, "Is there anything you need?"

"You can let me go, asshole," Izra answered in a voice as calm as it was angry.

Artesda's lips curled in a sad smile. "No," he said softly, "I don't think I'll ever let you go."

Izra blinked to hear the loving tone in the angel's voice. "What is the matter with you?" he demanded in disgust. "Why are you looking at me like that? Get away from me!"

Artesda smiled sadly yet again, and Izra was surprised when he went away as commanded. Paw on his sword hilt, he paced the perimeter all night, occasionally casting looks of longing in Izra's direction. Izra scowled: it was baffling!

Because he didn't need to sleep any more than Artesda did, Izra had nothing to do for many hours and half-wished he hadn't sent Artesda away from him. At least arguing with the lumbering angel and calling him names was entertaining. With Artesda gone and his paws bound behind his back, Izra had nothing to do but ache and stare at the wall. His scalp still burned from the donkeys having pulled on his mane, and his body still smelled of their fluids. He could smell water in the temple and it was driving him mad. He'd never wanted a bath so desperately in his _life,_and the one person he trusted to give him one was sleeping on the bench behind him.

Not that Izra was entirely certain he trusted Daphne either. She hadn't hesitated to just start groping him back at the barn. Without asking, without thinking! He remembered feeling shocked and violated . . . and then too paralyzed with pleasure to think. All his life, he'd never allowed anyone to touch him. Not because he feared sex or wished to remain celibate. He was simply quite shy. The entire point of his red panties was to confuse the sons of Araton. Too many times had he witnessed his brothers groped and sucked by those dick-hungry savages! Now it had happened to him, and he felt foolish for thinking a simple red cloth would stop someone like Artesda.

I should have told you the panties were diseased, Izra thought irritably when Artesda cast him yet another look of longing.

Storm did not return to them until the morning. She approached from the darkness of the corridor and headed toward the exit without missing a beat.

As Daphne was following Storm, Artesda made some move to hoist Izra over his shoulder, but Izra bobbed his head and swung his horns in protest, and Artesda stopped and calmly looked at him. Izra licked his lips, intent on trying an experiment.

"I want to walk," Izra said. "I don't want to be carried."

Artesda blinked. "Alright," he said quietly, and very gently, he leaned down and took Izra by the shoulders, helping him to stand.

Izra shook himself free and backed away. "What do you mean 'alright?'" he asked skeptically.

Artesda calmly blinked again. "You said you wished you walk. You may walk."

Izra held back a smirk. It was true: Artesda was willing to do anything he told him! ". . . what if I asked you to untie me?" Izra tried.

"Then I would have to carry you," was the answer, and Izra silently cursed: the big lummox was smarter than he looked.

"You may have one or the other but not both," Artesda calmly elaborated. "Shall I cut you free and carry you?" He put his paw on his sword hilt, completely prepared to cut Izra's wrists loose.

Izra knew he would be a fool not to take the chance of being unbound, but the thought of Artesda carrying him any longer made his flesh crawl. What could he do with his paws free anyway? He couldn't fly and he was outnumbered. Storm despised him and seemed more than willing to kill him, while Artesda was probably still willing to kill him as well. All his soft-voiced concern had to be some act.

"I'll . . . walk," said Izra miserably. He couldn't believe it when Artesda's golden eyes were disappointed: did he want to carry him?

Artesda turned away. "Then come. We have fallen behind."

The group emerged from the temple through a different door on what appeared to be the far side of the HillbackForest, and yet there were tracks outside the door. Izra's eyes darted over the ground, where he could see the small cleft circles that were the hoof-prints of his siblings. They had been so close and yet so _far._He wondered if Laila and Mala were among them. It was possible a different party had caught up to Artesda. Laila's platoon wasn't the only one sent to stop the Summoning, just the only one Araini and Darahi thought would succeed. How miserably wrong they'd all been.

Storm made note of the tracks in the dirt, and Artesda wondered aloud if they were likely to face some ambush. Storm asked Izra if he knew anything, he said no, and they continued on their way. It seemed that was the end of it, and they had been traveling for hours without incident when out of the blue, the white mare had the gall to start interrogating Izra in the most insulting manner. Izra decided to coldly ignore her. When he refused to answer, she pulled her bow and aimed an arrow at his face. To Izra's surprise, Artesda leapt in front of him, shielding him again with the muscular wall of his towering body.

"Get out of my way," Storm warned.

Artesda pulled his sword with a cold ching. "I will not. The ram is under my protection and you --"

"So you said before," interrupted Storm. "If you have not noticed, I do not care."

"Put the bow away," said Artesda in a low, dark voice.

"Or what?" sneered Storm.

"I will cut your arm off," was the calm reply, but there was such steel behind the threat, Izra didn't doubt that Artesda would do it.

Storm didn't seem fazed. "Understand that I am leading you to an angel, a stronger angel than you," she said through her teeth. "You harm a hair on my body, and he will find you and destroy you. Now move."

Artesda's eyes narrowed. "No."

"Will the two of you stop this!" burst Daphne in exasperation. She was standing beside Izra as the altercation was happening, but suddenly fed up, she placed herself between the two horses, who hastily lowered their weapons to avoid hurting her.

"Storm, Izra doesn't _know_anything, alright?" said Daphne wearily. "Artesda? No one is going to hurt Izra. I won't let her. Okay? Can the pissing match be over now?"

Artesda and Storm bitterly sheathed their weapons, each avoiding everyone's eye.

Daphne took a weary breath. "Let's get to this cave before we all kill each other."

"Agreed," snapped Storm, who turned tail and marched into the trees.

Artesda seemed embarrassed by his actions and was certain to always walk just behind Storm but in front of Daphne and Izra. Izra knew he had taken the position so as to avoid having to look anyone in the eye, and he wished he could do the same: Daphne kept glancing at him with her laughing eyes. She was so genuinely delighted by something, however, it was hard to be irritated by her. There was laughter in Izra's voice when he finally said, "Alright. What's so funny?"

"You and Artesda," Daphne said in much amusement.

"Huh?"

"Artesda goes out of his way to do things for you, doesn't he?" said Daphne, eyes twinkling mirth. "He carries you over mud puddles and feeds you and helps you drink from the stream --"

"No!" Izra insisted at once, though they both knew Artesda had indeed been scrambling to do _everything_for him, even wiping his ass.

Once as they were resting beneath the trees, Izra whispered with much embarrassment to Artesda that he'd been holding back a brick for over a day now. He could no longer contain it: he really had to go. Artesda made no response except to gently take Izra by the arm and lead him into the trees. He pulled down Izra's panties for him and steadied him by the waist as he squatted in the bushes to go.

Izra thought he'd never been so humiliated in his life, squatting there with his tail up as he pushed out waste and someone squatted behind him, holding his shoulders to keep him balanced. He kept telling himself that Artesda was most definitely not looking at his anus as it strained to push, though every bone in his body knew the angel was indeed looking. If only he'd let Artesda cut his wrists free, he'd be shitting on his own! But the strain of pushing it out coupled with the strain of keeping his balance would have surely seen him falling into his own mess without Artesda's help.

When all the waste had finally fallen in the grass, Izra sagged in relief but dismally realized he would not be able to wipe his own ass. His lashes fluttered when he felt Artesda gently wiping him with a leaf. Artesda's fingers probed his tender anus as he was wiping, and he couldn't tell if he was being fingered or just wiped. He squeezed his anus up in retaliation and slapped down his bushy tail anyway, and Artesda apologetically withdrew his paw.

"You sure about that?" Daphne teased, breaking through Izra's thoughts.

"Alright, fine. Maybe he's been a little too helpful." Izra made an irritated noise. "Tch! Your angel has lost his mind! What's the matter with him?"

Daphne giggled.

". . . What?"

"Artesda's in love with you!" announced the mare with girlish glee.

Izra made a face. "Or," he said darkly, "he's just being nice because he feels guilty about being a jerk." He twitched the blood-crusted stump on his back to indicate.

Daphne glanced sympathetically at Izra's shorn wing. "Maybe," she said with a shrug, "but I think he's being more than just nice. He looks at you with big, sad puppy eyes all the time."

"How do puppy eyes indicate love?" Izra said dismissively. "No, he's just having his first real moment of shame. He's finally realized my siblings and I aren't evil or any of the other ridiculous crap Araton told him. We're just beasts. Some of us are good, some of us are assholes. I have this brother who loves catching Araton's sons and fucking them upside-down in this sling --"

"That's awful!" gasped Daphne.

Izra laughed softly. "I _know._Point is, we aren't a monolith."

"And what about the angels?" Daphne pointed out.

Izra frowned. "Huh?"

"The angels," Daphne repeated darkly. "You think they're all evil rapists or something. Hasn't Artesda proven you wrong?"

No, he really hasn't, Izra thought angrily.

". . . has done nothing but protect you because he loves you," Daphne was saying when Izra looked up again. "I think it's sweet."

Izra felt his angry heart pounding and kept silent, trying to will himself calm. If only Daphne knew the things Artesda had done to him while she was sleeping! He wanted to tell her the truth, but he was too ashamed of what had befallen him, so he kept quiet, his dismal eyes on the wet earth and grass as they walked.

"Why don't you give him a chance?" Daphne gently coaxed.

Izra glanced up and thought her hopeful expression adorable.For the same reason you don't give Araton a chance, he thought, looking away. "Why are you trying to put us together?" he asked. "I thought you and Featherbrain had the hots for each other."

Daphne's golden cheeks blushed prettily, and Izra smiled. It was Daphne's turn to look away. "That doesn't mean we're in love," she said. "I just wanted to have sex with him."

Izra laughed. "Why?"

Daphne stared at Izra in disbelief. "Why not? He's gorgeous!"

"Is he?" said Izra dully, though he knew in his heart of hearts that Artesda was a chiseled god, even compared to other angels he'd seen, and he'd seen a lot.

"You can't be that blind," Daphne said with an amazed laugh.

". . . are you trying to put us together because you think it might change his mind?" Izra asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," Daphne admitted in a low whisper. "If we take Artesda to this angel and he doesn't manage to convince him, what else can we do? You could maybe seduce him, convince him to run away with you and then do whatever you like in the end. Stay with him or leave him --"

"That sounds awfully mean," Izra said disapprovingly. "I don't want to manipulate him like that! And I doubt it would even work. All evidence to the contrary, Artesda isn't stupid."

"Artesda's completely _smitten_with you, you have to see that!"

"No, he isn't - smitten - with me!" Izra said hastily, angrily.

Daphne made an impatient noise. "Fine! If Storm's father doesn't convince Artesda to give up the Summoning, I'm leaving, and you can escape on your own!"

"Whoa, whoa - what!"

Izra halted, and so did Daphne. They stood together in the shade of two close trees, letting Storm and Artesda draw further and further ahead. Izra barely noticed, for he was looking intently at Daphne, who stared back at him resolutely.

Daphne folded her arms. "You heard me, Izra. My mother is Queen Aurora of Aramora Hall! I have a sister I never even knew about! They're sitting in a crystal palace, living in wealth and luxury while I'm out here slogging through the dirt, about to be the sacrifice to some god! I want to look my mother in the eye and spit on her!"

"I doubt that will give you any true satisfaction," Izra said quietly.

"And yet I will do it. If all else fails . . . running to Aramora is the only way I can be free."

Izra hesitated. He thought he had some idea what Daphne intended to do at Aramora, and if he was right, she was more cunning and cut-throat than he ever could have guessed. "How would you get there on your own?" he pointed out.

"I will ask Storm to show me the way. She's already agreed to do it and is more than willing to help me if you won't."

Izra looked at her irritably. "You have some nerve tossing around blame here," he said in a low voice. "I came to save you, and you ruined the whole thing when you decided to grab my dick!"

Daphne blushed miserably.

"My siblings died_for you, I had my _wing cut off, and now," went on Izra irately, "I'm standing here with my paws tied behind my back, unable to help myself let alone you, and you want me to what? Suck Artesda's dick so you can escape? You selfish cow!"

Daphne's jaw dropped.

Satisfied, Izra turned and marched away, moving fast to catch up with the others before they noticed he'd fallen behind. The last thing he needed was for them to think he was trying to flee. Storm would not hesitate to take any excuse to shoot him.

"Izra!" Daphne panted, and Izra heard her little hooves pattering through the grass as she jogged after him. She came to his side, and when he grudgingly glanced her way, her pretty eyes were apologetic.

"I'm sorry," Daphne muttered, pushing her tousled mane back from her face. "I know you're in this mess because you were trying to help me. Maybe I can convince Storm to let you come with us when we run."

"Pft," dismissed Izra. "Good luck with that. We'd probably have to kill Artesda and Storm to get out of this."

"I could help you on my own, then," Daphne said at once, though Izra wasn't convinced. "How?" he asked dully.

"We're going to see Storm's father, right? At some point he'll want to talk to Artesda privately. That's when I plan on escaping with Storm. I could cut you free before we leave."

"You do that," said Izra, "and we're even."

"Deal." Daphne hesitated, looking at Izra curiously. "Where will you go after all this? Back to Araini?"

"Yes, back to Vaine, though it'll be a hell of a long walk. I should report in, let everyone know I'm alive. And there are funeral arrangements to make," Izra said with a sad sigh. "If I know Laila, she hasn't even gone home to start them."

Daphne blinked curiously. "What are Laila and Mala like?"

"My sisters?" Izra laughed. "They are not political sharks like you. They are soldiers like me_,_and we soldiers just do what we're told."

"What? I am not a shark!" Daphne vowed in a fluster, and Izra chuckled.

"Aren't you? I know what you intend in Aramora."

Daphne looked away guiltily.

"I never expected you to be this way."

Daphne hesitated unhappily. "What way? You think I'm awful?"

"No, I think you're stubborn," was the immediate response, "and ruthless and wild. Most Purest Ones are humble and docile and just give in when they're summoned. They wait around for me and my siblings to rescue them, and they don't even try to save themselves." Izra looked at Daphne with narrow-eyed admiration. "But not you. If my siblings and I hadn't come along, you'd have found some way to escape by now, I'm almost certain of it. You'd set the world on fire to live free, wouldn't you? They say Queen Aurora is the same way. Maybe it's a taste of that wild spirit Araton wants, not your tight little horse pussy."

Daphne blushed prettily, and Izra looked away, amused.

"Careful, Iz," laughed Daphne after a pause. "It almost sounds like you want me."

Izra chuckled softly. "Maybe I do."

"Uh oh! What would Artesda think of that?" Daphne teased.

"It would probably get his dick hard . . . and then he'd kill us both in a blind age," Izra said dully.

Daphne laughed.

They fell silent as they filed past a weathered statue of a bovine goddess. The statue towered enormous between the trees, draped in vines and flowers and crawling with chirruping insects. The statue was of a curvy young heifer, whose four enormous breasts were stacked high on each other, jutting with long nipples and plump in the sunlight. The heifer herself was completely naked but for the beads and feathers carved on her being. She had a luxurious mane of long, wild hair and slanted eyes that enticed onlookers to suckle at her breasts. She held out her slender arms, inviting.

Izra knew if they were coming across bovine ruins, that meant they were getting very deep into the more abandoned forests of Oltru and drawing ever nearer to the Tower of Calantha. It also meant they were heading away from Aramora, the great capital of Oltru and the seat of Aramora Hall.

When Storm announced they were drawing near to the cave, Izra had to admit it was actually pretty smart for Storm's father to live near the Tower of Calantha. From such a position, he would always have an ear to the ground, would always know what was happening in Heaven and could not be taken by surprise. He lived right under the nose of Araton, hiding in plain sight.

They had passed the statue of the heifer goddess when Izra noticed Daphne still gawking over her shoulder at it.

"The goddess Nikima," Izra quietly explained. "It has long been forgotten, but she ruled this land before it was Oltru. Before it was Olyndor."

"You mean the cows were here first?" Daphne asked in surprise.

"Yes," Izra answered. "I know to horses the cows being sentient is something of a myth, but they were more than beasts of burden once. This was their land, and they called it Agathiya."

"What happened to them? The donkeys took over?"

"No," Izra said with a frown. "Nikima gave birth to a son who became known as the Minotaur. That was his temple we stayed in last night. Or one of them. The Minotaur fell in love with Pria, some kind of donkey goddess, and they decided to jointly rule Agathiya, which meant the donkeys came and lived at peace with the bovine . . . though it wasn't peaceful at first. Many were against the sudden change. There were wars and uprisings that nearly tore the country apart. That is, until Pria and the Minotaur had a beautiful daughter, and then everyone . . . stopped caring."

"You know a great deal of mythology," Daphne realized.

"History," Izra corrected. "And yes, I suppose I do. I don't like fighting much. I spend most of my time in Voriza reading --"

"Voreeza?" Daphne tried.

"Yes. The realm of Araini and Darahi. My home." He paused to smile, remembering his little house in the cloud-swept realm above Vaine. "It's pretty rare for me to come on assignments like this." He laughed dryly. "I like being in bed with a book."

"I like being in bed," Daphne said, and Izra laughed. "So why come on this assignment?" she wondered.

Izra shrugged. "I was needed. Mala insisted on coming as Laila's second-in-command, and I was asked to come to keep a lid on her temper."

"Ah. She was pretty feisty."

"I bet you like 'em feisty," Izra said in amusement. "And bold. And daring."

"I do," Daphne admitted readily. "If Artesda wasn't such a mindless peon, if he dared to rebel, I'd probably like him more."

"Who knows? We might lead him to this angel and he'll actually change his mind. Don't be so hard on him."

"Pft. This from the one whose wing he chopped off."

"My father teaches forgiveness," said Izra quietly.

"Oooor," teased Daphne with twinkling eyes, "somebody likes Artesda!"

"What? No, I don't!" Izra said at once.

"Just admit it."

"There's nothing to admit!"

"Sure. Whatever you say."

"There's nothing!"

Daphne only laughed.

Izra and Daphne continued their pleasant chat all afternoon, and by evening, when they decided to make camp for the night, Artesda had a stiff, cold manner that baffled Izra. As Daphne and Storm were resting beneath the trees, Artesda carried Izra some feet away to a broken pillar, which he sat Izra on like a high stool. Izra wanted to know why Artesda seemed so angry - especially since his survival depended entirely on Artesda's whims - but after a while of staring in confusion at the stallion's cold face, he gave up.

Artesda placed his big paws on Izra's hips. "Look at me!" he growled, and when Izra did, he just stared hard into his face. Izra stared back into those angry golden eyes in complete bewilderment.

". . . Artesda? What's the matter now?" Izra demanded tiredly.

"You!" Artesda snapped at once, startling Izra to blinking. "You are what's the matter with me! You drive me to distraction night and day with your manipulations!"

". . . manipulations? I haven't done anything!"

"Do not play innocent!" Artesda said with a furious heave of his chest, and every bulging muscle in his body tightened beautifully. "From the moment I have known you, you have done nothing but entice me with your pretty penis and your beautiful eyes --" Izra blinked, flustered and confused, "- both of which you gave to Daphne so freely! Now you talk and laugh with her all afternoon about things you will not share with me. Are you seducing her? Do you want her?"

"What? No! I'm not seducing anyone!" Izra cried in amazement. He held back a laugh of disbelief as he finally realized what was wrong: Artesda was jealous.

Artesda stared at Izra a long time, as if searching his face for any hint of a lie. When he found none, he sighed and his strong shoulders sagged. "I want you so much, it aches," he whispered in the dark, and Izra felt his heart skip a startled beat. "I want you, and more than anything else, I want for you to want me."

"Artesda . . ." Izra muttered miserably.

"I know I have been cruel to you," Artesda said softly, sadly. He touched Izra's face with a gentle paw, and Izra felt something dismal welling up inside him when he saw the look of longing in Artesda's eyes. "I don't deserve your love," the angel said, "but I want it anyway. I wish I could take back everything I have done to you . . . everything we have done to each other."

Izra didn't know what to say. He'd never been wanted before. Not in this yearning way. There was one mortal back in Vaine, a ram who he rescued from a pack of wolves out in the forest. The young ram took Izra home to care for his injuries and tried to seduce him later when he was well. Izra was too shy and bumbling and wound up flying home before anything could happen. He felt that way now, faced with Artesda's soft-eyed longing, with his sad whispers and wanting eyes. Only this time, he could not simply fly away.

"Will you let me . . . make love to you?" Artesda whispered.

"What!" Izra cried in soft shock.

"I think of you all the time," the angel admitted. "Since I watched you relieving yourself, I have wanted to slide my penis in that tight place. I want you to moan because I am giving you pleasure --"

"S-Stop this!" Izra cried, painfully embarrassed. He wanted to hop down and run but didn't know how he could without falling on his face. His wrists were still bound behind him, of course. He tensed his strong arms against the binds and hated himself for not taking the chance to be free when he could have.

Artesda was silent and waiting, staring at Izra as if for a command, and Izra realized he'd stopped talking because he was told to.

"Do you always do what you're told?" Izra demanded incredulously.

"It depends on who is telling me," was the calm reply.

Izra's lashes fluttered. "Oh . . ."

"I will do anything you ask me to," Artesda whispered. "But I will not let you go. I can not."

Izra scowled. "Why can't you! Daphne doesn't even want to go with me. I'd just go home and this would be over!"

"Because I want you for myself," Artesda whispered, tightening his hold on Izra's hips. He bowed his head, pushing aside the plates of Izra's skirt with his nose, and Izra gasped softly when he felt the angel's tongue gently lap his penis from the head to the base, coaxing it to stand. Izra's body tensed against the sudden pleasure, but Artesda's gentle laps didn't pause and only became hungrier when Izra grunted against the strain.

"Art-tesda!" Izra hissed in alarm. He glanced past the angel, hoping desperately that Daphne and Storm could not hear them.

"Tell me to stop," Artesda whispered. He paused and looked at Izra, who was breathless and mussed, his arms bulging as they twisted against their binds.

Izra couldn't catch his breath. He'd never been licked before. Or sucked. Or anything. That it felt so good, and that it was coming from his enemy there in the dark, mortified him. But he didn't want it to stop - which mortified him all the more. "Y-You won't tell anyone?" he asked miserably.

"No," Artesda whispered. "Should I stop?"

Izra couldn't believe it when the breathless words came out of his mouth, "No, d-don't stop . . . please."

Artesda bowed his head and slowly closed his mouth over Izra, sucking long and slow, until Izra's shaft was glittering-wet and swollen against his lips. Izra frowned against the pleasure and felt his penis heaving and straining. He would die of embarrassment if he climaxed too fast, but Artesda was very good at what he was doing, probably because he wanted it and enjoyed it so deeply. His eager slurping, sucking, and moaning told of his delight, and Izra wouldn't have been surprised if he wasn't rock hard as he was sucking him.

Izra tried to keep his gasps and moans low but he was climaxing and couldn't stop it. He babbled something to warn Artesda and wasn't sure the sound was even words, so intense was the pleasure. His erection flinched in Artesda's mouth, but instead of pulling away, Artesda kept wetly sucking, until Izra gave a soft, stifled cry and felt himself erupt. Artesda choked as Izra's seed filled his mouth, and he heard the stallion struggling to swallow. He let Izra's soft penis flop from his mouth as his flexing throat strained to choke it down. When he looked up again, his lips were wet with Izra's seed and his eyes were warm.

In the silence that followed, they panted and gasped. Izra sat hunched, trying to catch his breath. He could still feel Artesda's lips and tongue on him, long after the angel had removed his mouth. He closed his eyes and smiled when Artesda trailed wet kisses over his thighs.

"I want to kiss every part of you," Artesda whispered between kisses. "I want to kiss your lips. Your sweet black lips." His kisses found Izra's shoulder, and cupping the sheep's face, he buried kisses in his neck.

"Ar-Artesda," Izra stammered, shivering as the kissing intensified. Artesda's kisses trailed up his cheek and almost caught his mouth, but he lifted his face away. "Art-tesda, no . . ." he miserably begged.

Artesda paused and frowned at Izra sadly. "Will I ever kiss your lips?"

Izra cleared his throat and looked away.

"As you wish," Artesda whispered and made Izra feel ten times worse when he kissed him on the cheek instead. "Come," he said quietly, "let us return to the others. No doubt they are wondering where we are." And this time - without stopping to ask - he gently slung Izra over his shoulder and lumbered away through the trees with him.