Cayla vaguely remembered when she had first arrived at the House of the Gray Sisters. She had been very young, so young that the details were hazy in her mind, but she remembered being happy and optimistic about the future. She’d have a roof over her head to keep her dry and food in her belly; things that she had sorely missed as an orphan. More importantly, there was the promise of power.
She knew that some men were very powerful, and that some creatures – dragons in the skies, giants in the earth, leviathans in the seas – were even more powerful still, so powerful that few had looked upon them and lived to tell the tale. All agreed, however, that none were more powerful than the gods. The gods could create and destroy at will, and though no mortal could control them they could be influenced – which was exactly what the Gray Sisters were for. They’d offer up praise and burn candles and incense to earn the favor of the gods, and use that favor to convince the gods to do their bidding. Cayla often fantasized about what it would be like to have the gods on her side – she’d reap vengeance against those who abused her when she was a powerless orphan and ensure that the world would be fair to all, and no one would dare oppose her. Things would be so much better.
Such power came at a cost, of course. The Gray Sisters had to keep themselves pure in every way if they were to earn the gods’ favor, and if Cayla hoped to become one of them and command divine power she would do the same. She would never marry, nor have children, nor even know the touch of a man. She’d dress only in a modest gray shroud, from whence the Gray Sisters got their name. She would eat only enough to sustain her life, and her food would always be bland and tasteless. She didn’t care, though – it was a small price to pay for the power she sought.
Sadly, her commitment waned with age. She still burned with desire for power, but she began to doubt that the Gray Sisters commanded what she wanted. They prayed for many things – bountiful harvests, the king’s victory over his enemies, the continued health of High Sister Alia. When the prayers were answered it was proclaimed a miracle, but when they were not it was simply forgotten. Cayla began to suspect that the prayers would be answered just as consistently if they were never offered up in the first place. She began to suspect that the Gray Sisters wielded no more power than the magicians who roamed the streets, performing their tricks for a spare coin – the only difference seemed to be that everyone knew the magicians’ tricks were nothing more than sleight of hand.
Additionally, she found that the legendary virtues of the Gray Sisters were not quite as pure as claimed. She might be beaten for any number of transgressions – eating too much, speaking out of turn, or even on the sole suspicion of vanity – but the rules didn’t seem to apply to all Sisters equally. She had personally witnessed some of the senior Sisters stuffing their fat faces with far more food than needed to survive, and that food was rarely the stale bread and cabbage that she was accustomed to. She had even heard rumors that High Sister Alia frequently knew men carnally, and had even been with child more than once when she had been younger. She could feel the corruption around her, but by that point knew better than to say anything.
Sitting on the back of the cart with Sister Dena, she wondered if things might have been a bit better for her if she had only been a bit more ignorant. She had still went through the faith’s motions, of course – even if the Gray Sisters didn’t command divine power they still provided food and shelter – but her spirit hadn’t been in it for some time. She suspected that others knew her faith was shattered, and believed that might have been why she was being sent away.
She had been an adult woman for less than a week when Great Sister Alia summoned her to her chambers that morning to inform her that she would never join their order. Cayla feigned disappointment so as not to offend the Great Sister, but she knew it was for the best. She simply didn’t believe, and had come to accept that she never would.
Her disappointment grew more sincere when Alia informed her that since she would not be joining the Gray Sisters, she would be moved to a house of pleasure own by a merchant by the name of Orthyn Grom. It wasn’t the name of the place that bothered Cayla – though she didn’t know what a house of pleasure was it certainly didn’t sound like something to be afraid of – but rather the tone of Alia’s voice. She almost sounded guilty, which was extremely unnerving. Cayla had known Alia to whip girls bloody for the most trivial of offenses without the slightest pity or remorse; if she felt bad about what she was doing than it was likely cause for concern. Still, Cayla forced herself to remain calm, telling herself that she was likely just imagining Alia’s troubled tone.
Glancing over at Sister Dena, Cayla found it increasingly difficult to tell herself that there was nothing to fear. The older sister watched her carefully; less like an escort sent to keep her safe and more like a guard sent to keep her from escaping. The thought had crossed Cayla’s mind more than once – Dena was an old crone and would be easy to outrun – but she thought better of it. Though she might be able to run, she had no idea what she’d do once she was free. Having spent nearly all of her life with the Gray Sisters, she didn’t think she’d have the skills necessary to find food or shelter. Repressing the voice in her head that begged her to flee while she could, she sat silently as the horse pulled their cart around a corner and down an alley behind the house of pleasure.
The cart stopped in front of a heavy oaken door, letting Cayla and Sister Dena out. The house of pleasure didn’t look anything like what Cayla had expected. She had expected bright colors and air filled with laughter, but saw only a plain door set in dark gray stone. It struck her as strange, but she said nothing; knowing that complaining that the building wasn’t pretty enough for her liking was unlikely to do anything but make her foolish. Holding her tongue, she followed Dena inside.
The older sister led Cayla down a hallway, around a corner, and into a small room. The room was decorated in a way far more congruent with what Cayla might have expected, with bright colors and plush soft furniture. Along the walls hung large paintings, most depicting women in states of undress that made Cayla blush. She considered saying something about that – she had always been taught that the naked body led to sin – but decided not to. Sister Dena didn’t voice any objection, so she figured that it was best to simply ignore them. Following Dena’s lead, she took a seat on an oversized purple couch that felt softer than anything she had ever touched before.
They had been seated for less than a minute when Orthyn Grom entered the room to join them. His presence shocked Cayla – after having spent most of her life with the Gray Sisters, he seemed almost alien. While the Sisters dressed in plain gray shrouds, he wore bright orange and green silks. The sisters were always quiet and dignified, yet he seemed boisterous and energetic. Even his gender felt strange to Cayla – few men ever set foot inside the House of the Gray Sisters, and she wasn’t accustomed to being around anyone but women and girls. For the first time, Cayla began to realize that her life was about to change drastically.
So good to see you again, Dena, he smiled as he took a seat facing them.
I trust this is the one that we discussed?
It is, Sister Dena answered, a hint of disdain for the man evident in her voice.
I trust you have the gold we discussed? I’d like to finish this quickly so that I can be rid of this place.
You wound me, Dena, he laughed in a way that implied he wasn’t wounded at all.
Is there something so horrid about my house that you can’t bear to stay an extra minute? I suppose it doesn’t matter – I’ve no desire to hold you any longer than you wish. You’ll have your payment once I’ve made sure that no one took any liberties with the truth in describing her.
That’s not necessary, Orthyn, Dena growled.
She is precisely as has been described to you. The Gray Sisters do not lie.
Of course they don’t, he chuckled,
just as the Gray Sisters would never sin by doing business with a whore house. It’s certainly not my intention to insult your honor or that of your Sisters, Dena, but I’m not in the habit of paying large sums of coin for figures shrouded in gray and hoping for the best.
As for you, girl, he continued, turning his attention to Cayla,
you can make this process go quicker so that your soon-to-be-former sister can vacate this place as she wishes. Lose the shroud – you’re no longer a Gray Sister, and need not wear their depressing uniform.
Cayla knew that she was no longer a Gray Sister – she had never really been one in the first place – but she couldn’t comply with his demand. She was naked beneath her shroud, and while nudity around other women was dangerous as it could lead to pride, she knew that nudity around a man could lead to far more damning sins. She assumed that he simply didn’t realize her state underneath the thick gray wool, and looked to Dena for help.
Best do as he says, child, Dena encouraged, her voice awash with regret and shame.
You’ll hate this as much as I do, but it’s how it needs to be.
You wound me again, Orthyn interjected, still sounding anything but hurt.
I assure you, my girls enjoy their lot far more than yours – even if they are so often shy when I first acquire them. Regardless, my time is valuable and you’re not the only one in this room that would like to speed things along – if she cannot undress herself, perhaps you should help her.
Cayla was still trying to make sense of the things that he had said when she felt Dena’s hands grasping her shroud at the shoulders. Before she had time to react, the older woman had yanked the shroud down hard, exposing her breasts. She struggled to pull the shroud back up to conceal her shame, but Dena was much stronger than she looked. Half naked and feeling extremely vulnerable, she barely even noticed as Orthyn poured a dark blue liquid into a brass chalice and brought it to them.
Drink this, girl, he encouraged, holding the cup to Cayla’s lips.
It will make this much easier for you.
Cayla didn’t trust the man at all, but she didn’t see what choice she had. With Dena holding her arms steady and Orthyn immediately before her, running wasn’t an option. Telling herself that poisoning her wouldn’t make sense when there were much easier ways that they could kill her if they were inclined to do so, she reluctantly swallowed as he poured the blue fluid into her mouth. It tasted almost supernaturally sweet, yet somehow burned her throat as it went down.
She began to feel the effects of the drink within seconds. Her vision went hazy, her hearing blurred, and her very mind seemed to cloud. Most of her senses seemed dulled by the concoction, yet her sense of touch seemed intensified, almost as if it were making up for the others. She could suddenly feel everything – the coarse gray wool that made up her shroud, Dena’s wrinkled fingers against her skin, even the soft felt of the couch they sat on against the back of her ankles.
While Cayla tried to make sense of what was happening, she felt Dena’s bony fingers painfully digging deeper into her arms. Realizing that there was likely a reason she was being restrained, she looked up to see Orthyn reaching towards her breasts. Knowing that being touched in such a place was tremendously shameful, she tried to wrench her body away from him, but found it impossible to do so. It seemed as if the potion hadn’t just dulled some of her senses, but sapped her strength as well. Try as she might, she could only sit still as the older man cupper her breasts in his hands.
The touch was strange. His fingers seemed hotter than they ought to be, almost as if they were on fire, yet they did not hurt. They felt strangely good, in fact – as a finger brushed against her nipple she found herself stifling an inappropriate moan. As her nipples rapidly stiffened under his fingers she looked towards Sister Dena but found no help there. While Dena’s expression made it clear that she hated what she was doing, it also implied that she had no choice in the matter.
They’re smaller than I expected, he sighed, looking slightly disappointed.
The nipples are nice and perky, but from what was described I had anticipated a bit more flesh behind them. Still, I suppose they’ll suffice.
I’m glad, Dena forced out, her voice dripping with disgust.
If everything is in order, I’ll be taking our payment and leaving you now.
Not just yet, Orthyn replied before Dena had released her grip on Cayla’s arms.
Her breasts matter, but my primary concern is the virginity that I was promised. Seeing as Alia was willing to take a few liberties in describing her bust, I think it would be quite foolish to take her at her word for the rest.
The words made no sense to Cayla. She assumed that the virginity he spoke of was her own, but she couldn’t imagine why he might doubt it. She hadn’t even spoken to a man since her first moon’s blood, much less touched one. Furthermore, she couldn’t understand why her virginity would concern him – though the Gray Sisters might have insisted on her purity to please the gods, he hardly seemed like the devout type.
While Cayla’s head swam with questions, Dena let out a heavy sigh and pulled the girl up to her feet. Briefly releasing her grip on her arms, she let the gray cloak fall to the floor before sitting her back down. Still feeling woozy from the drink, it took Cayla a second to realize that she was now completely naked. Remembering how bad that was she tried to reach down for her shroud, but Dena simply grabbed her again by the shoulders and held her steady.
Looking up at Orthyn, Cayla hoped that he might avert her eyes and spare her the shame of being seen in the nude. Unfortunately, he seemed to have the exact opposite intentions. His eyes fixed to her body and gravitating towards the parts she most wanted to hide, he squatted down in front of her and placed his hands on her knees. Gripping them gently, he pulled them apart and exposed Cayla’s sex to his vision.
Unable to free herself through struggle, Cayla let out a terrified whimper. She knew of all the places that a man might see her the absolute worst was between her legs, and Orthyn couldn’t have picked a worse time. Though she couldn’t understand why, his groping of her breasts had made her shamefully wet down there, a fact that she would have preferred to keep secret. She could feel her wetness seeping down her thighs, though she tried to tell herself it was simply the elevated sense of touch that the potion had bestowed upon her.
Cayla wondered how the situation could be any more shameful, but she didn’t have to wonder for long. Forcing his body between her legs in order to keep them spread, Orthyn released his grip on her knees and thrust a hand into her crotch. Pressing his thumb against her clit, he began to rub it in slow, gentle circles. Overwhelmed with an alien feeling of intense pleasure, Cayla accidentally let out another stifled moan of lust. She had never been touched there, not even by herself – at least, not for long. When she lived in the House of the Gray Sisters she was watched carefully like all of the other girls to make sure that her fingers never lingered in the wrong place.
Is that really necessary? Dena snapped.
Just check her maidenhead and be done with it.
Trust me, I will, Orthyn smiled back, obviously unconcerned with Dena’s objections.
I don’t want to hurt the poor thing, though – at least not yet. This will go so much easier for her if I make she’s wet enough first.
She’s wet enough already, Dena retorted, sounding just as disgusted with Cayla as she was with Orthyn.
Even with my old eyes I can see how lustful the little harlot is.
Cayla felt her face growing beet red with shame. She hated the fact that the older sister knew her secret, and it didn’t help that she could hear the judgment and disgust in Dena’s voice. She wanted to explain that it really wasn’t her fault, that she truly was a good girl and that her state was entirely the fault of the foul potion that he had fed her, but she wasn’t even sure if that was true. Mostly, she wanted Dena to silence herself so that Orthyn could continue what he was doing – as humiliated as she was, she never wanted the feeling of physical bliss that he was inflicting on her to ever end.
Is that your professional opinion, Sister? Orthyn laughed back mockingly.
Not that I would ever doubt the expertise of a woman who has renounced her womanly bits or anything, but you’ll understand if I trust in my own instincts on this matter. I wonder, though – why does it bother you to see the little slut being pleasured? Is it the knowledge that you’ll never know such bliss – at least, not officially?
You call it bliss, Dena spat back.
I call it filth. All you’re doing is shaming yourself and proving that Alia was right – this harlot should never have even been considered by our order.
So you claim, he shrugged, removing his hand and holding it up so that both women could see how it glistened with Cayla’s juices.
Still, I think you’re jealous. Look at this, Sister – look how much the little whore-to-be enjoys this. Would you like a taste?
Without giving Dena a chance to respond, Orthyn raised his hand to her face and attempted to force his fingers into it. Dena clenched her jaw shut to refuse him entry, but she maintained her grasp on Cayla’s arms. Unable to force her to taste Cayla’s wetness, Orthyn contented himself with smearing it over the older woman’s face. Cayla was mortified by what was happening, barely able to process the massive shame that she felt, and yet she couldn’t help thinking about how desperately she wanted him to finish what he was doing with Dena so that he could again place his hand between her legs.
Don’t be afraid, Orthyn taunted as he continued to spread Cayla’s juices across Dena’s lips.
There’s no charge for this taste, and if you should decide you want more? You wouldn’t exactly be the first of the sisterhood to come to me as a customer. Even if you don’t like her specifically, I’m certain that I can still accommodate you. I stock a wide selection of girls – young, old, from here in Pyros and from foreign lands across the Sea of Reeds – I’m certain I can find something to your liking.
Vile lies, Dena insisted.
No true Gray Sister would ever patronize your sinful den, and I’ll thank you not to pretend otherwise. If you’re quite done disgracing yourself with your falsehoods, I’d remind you that you’re supposed to be checking for her maidenhead right now.
It took all of Cayla’s willpower to refrain from shouting in agreement with Dena. It wasn’t that she cared one way or the other what Orthyn claimed about the Sisters – after the corruption that she had witnessed, Cayla felt it was entirely possible that Orthyn spoke the truth – but rather her own sinful desires. Her arousal had only grown since Orthyn had removed his hand, and her clit throbbed painfully for attention. She knew that she ought to be concerned with the exchange she was witnessing, but at that moment her only concern was her own satisfaction.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. Though Orthyn seemed to delight in tormenting Sister Dena, he still had work to do. Taking his hand away from Dena’s face, he placed it again between Cayla’s legs with his thumb on her clit. Rubbing it slightly harder than he had been earlier, he began to trace a single finger up and down Cayla’s slit. She felt like she ought to be fighting him – even in her naiveté she knew that it wouldn’t be long before he slipped a finger inside of her – but all she could seem to manage was to restrain herself from thrusting out her hips and forcing his finger into her.
I’ll say this much for Alia, he mused absentmindedly, his attention clearly on Cayla.
She was right about the little slut’s wantonness. The wine that she drank earlier always makes the new ones a bit more pliable, but I can’t remember the last time a slut got so delightfully wet. It’s a pity you don’t want her, but if you should change your mind later and want a taste then you can always simply lick your own shroud – she’s leaving quite the puddle on it.
Glancing down, Cayla saw that Orthyn spoke the truth. Her wetness had run down her thighs, leaving a small dark spot on Dena’s gray shroud. She felt a bit of shame for that – especially knowing that her reaction was apparently abnormal if Orthyn was to be believed – but she still couldn’t seem to think of anything other than how badly she wanted satisfaction. Orthyn’s masterful rubbing of her clit was bringing her pleasures she couldn’t have previously imagined, but they seemed to only make her want more.
Tell me, girl, he smiled, turning his attention toward Cayla.
Has your good sister Dena explained to you what I’m purchasing you for? Do you understand why I’m checking to make sure that you’re still a maiden?
Cayla had been far too distracted by what was happening between her thighs to focus on much of anything, but now that Orthyn had brought those questions to her mind they did seem important. She really didn’t know what her duties might be there, and it occurred to her that she should probably be concerned about that. Additionally, she didn’t know that she had been purchased – as Alia had told it, she was simply being sent there to live. She wanted to ask questions as to what was going on, but she didn’t trust herself to open her mouth and speak freely out of fear that she’d shame herself with further lustful moaning. Instead, she simply shook her head
no and lowered her eyes, secretly hoping that Orthyn’s manipulation of her sensitive flesh might never end.
A pity, Orthyn sighed,
though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. For all their self-proclaimed piety, the Gray Sisters are remarkably craven when it comes to discussing matters of the flesh. I suppose I could explain it all to you, but I think it might be easier for you to accept your fate if you had someone that you trusted explaining exactly what your lot here will be. Would you care to do the honors, Sister Dena?
I most certainly would not, Dena hissed.
This wasn’t part of the deal – I was simply to deliver her and take the payment back.
Fair enough, Orthyn shrugged.
Though, if you want to discuss the deal, I believe that I have the right to refuse delivery if the girl isn’t as expected, and I expected her to have some knowledge of what you were selling her into. If you’d prefer to take her back to your sanctimonious house of gray and explain to Alia that you simply couldn’t bear the shame of offering an explanation to the poor girl then that’s fine – I understand she’s quite tolerant of sisters who fail her.
Cayla knew that wasn’t the case, and the expression that Dena wore implied that she knew it, too. High Sister Alia was known for being strict and unforgiving, and though Cayla didn’t know what she might do if Dena were to bring her back instead of the promised gold she knew that the older sister wouldn’t enjoy it. A part of Cayla actually felt bad for Dena – she clearly didn’t want to give the explanation that Orthyn had commanded – though she was more curious than empathetic, even if her mind was primarily between her legs at the moment.
This is a whorehouse, child, Dena explained, her voice awash in shame and disgust.
You’ll be working here from now on.
Not good enough, Orthyn growled, briefly removing his hand from Cayla’s crotch in order to smear more of the girl’s wetness across Dena’s face.
Working here? That tells her nothing – for all she knows she’ll be cleaning out my gutters and cooking my food. Tell her exactly what she is. Tell her what her
work will consist of.
You’ll be a whore, Dena choked out.
Vile men will pay this creature money for the right to fuck you.
But I can’t! Cayla protested. She might not have known what a
house of pleasure was until a few minutes earlier, but she knew what a whore was. She had always been told that they were the lowest of all creatures, deserving neither respect nor kindness, and she couldn’t bear the thought that that would be her fate.
I beg you, please take me back to High Sister Alia! She must have made some mistake; I’m a good girl!
I’m sorry child, Dena replied, regret evident in her tone.
The Gray Sisters need coin more than they need recruits; there’s been no mistake. The gods might very well judge us harshly for this, but you’ll stay here in Orthyn’s keep – he owns you now, and will do with you as he sees fit.
It’s not as bad as she makes it out to be, Orthyn interjected with a smile.
Dena speaks the truth – you will be a whore in every way – but she makes it sound so distasteful and unpleasant. Granted, your job will be to give pleasure to strange men, but you’ll get pleasure in return – much as you’re getting pleasure from me right now. Doesn’t this feel good, whore? Don’t you want to feel like this all of the time?
Cayla was torn. She knew that she should do everything possible to avoid becoming a whore – if she had learned anything from the Gray Sisters it had been how disgusting whores are in the eyes of the gods – yet she couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t making her feel better than she had ever felt in all her years with the Sisters. Unsure of whom to trust, she decided to believe Dena – though the Sisters might have been corrupt, she found it easier to put her faith in someone whom she had known nearly all of her life than a man whom she had only just met.
I can’t, she repeated, feeling undermined by the lust she heard in her on voice.
I’m not a whore, I’m a Gray Sister! Please, release me!
See what happens when you fill their heads with nonsense? Orthyn sighed to Dena before turning his attention back to Cayla.
Listen, girl, there’s nothing wrong with getting fucked – in fact, you seem to enjoy it quite a bit, if I’m to believe those moans you’re trying so hard to hide. Your Sisters are just jealous, is all. Dena here might not want to admit it, but she wants desperately to be in the position you’re in now, and if you were to run a hand up her shroud you’d likely find that her elderly fuck hole is every bit as sopping wet as yours – assuming it hasn’t rusted shut by now. If you can’t trust me, then surely you can trust your own body – doesn’t this feel good, whore?
I don’t care! Cayla insisted, trying to stay adamant but feeling her resolve melting away by the second.
I’m not a whore and I never will be!
Orthyn looked her dead in the eyes and smiled warmly. His smile said that he knew what she was feeling and that she wasn’t fooling him for an instant. She knew that she was beaten, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to accept it.
As if to demonstrate the power that he wielded over her, Orthyn removed his hand from her legs and brought it up to her face. Cayla felt instant longing – his rubbing had felt so tremendously good and she truly believed that she was very close to the satisfaction she yearned for when he stopped. She wondered if he intended to make her beg him to continue rubbing her, and worried that it would likely work. If he didn’t continue what he had been doing soon, she could easily see herself saying whatever he commanded.
Thankfully, Orthyn didn’t force her to beg. He simply smeared her juices over her face, much as he had done earlier to Dena. Hoping that demonstrating physical cooperation might convince him to spare her the mercy of verbal submission, Cayla even opened her mouth when his fingers reached her lips. As her most intimate flavors washed over her tongue she felt the yearning between her legs growing more and more fierce, and wondered if her frustration was a punishment from the gods for how wanton she was acting.
Pleased by her cooperation, Orthyn brought his hand back between her thighs and continued rubbing, though by that point his thumb was moving quickly and forcefully. Jolts of pleasure radiating from her sensitive clit, Cayla found herself moaning in earnest. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she ought to be trying to hide the sounds of her lust a bit better, but she knew the task would be utterly futile.
It’s all moot, to be truthful, Orthyn smiled, enjoying the victory that he knew he’d soon hold.
You won’t be going back to your Gray Sisters no matter what; you’ll be a whore whether you like it or not. Just the same, I’d like you to tell me the truth – do you want to be a Gray Sister and spend your days praying to gods that never answer, or would you like to be a whore and learn just how much power there really is in the pleasure between your legs?
A whore, Cayla admitted in moan. The answer shamed her, but she knew that a lie would be spotted easily. Besides, his comment about power had gripped her attention firmly – she couldn’t deny the power that he held over her with only his thumb, and found herself wondering what she might be able to do if she could wield similar power herself.
I thought so, Orthyn smiled before turning his attention to Dena.
They always come around in time – maybe someday you will, too…
Dena didn’t appreciate his vulgar prediction, but Cayla was beyond caring about anything Dena felt. Orthyn had slipped the finger that he had been rubbing her slit with inside of her, and the feeling was indescribable. Cayla finally had the satisfaction that she knew she wanted, and it felt better than she had imagined anything could feel. Her entire body quaked with energy, her muscles convulsed violently, and she could barely remain conscious – much less make any effort to conceal her climax. She knew that she should be afraid and shouldn’t give in so easily, but at that moment she couldn’t care about anything other than the life-altering bliss that her body was experiencing.
She’s intact, Orthyn announced after Cayla had finally calmed down.
You’ll get your gold, and remember – if you should ever want to come back for a taste, we’re quite affordable – and discreet.
Standing back up, Orthyn grabbed a small pouch and handed it to Dena. Avoiding eye contact, Dena snatched the pouch from his hand and was on her way before a word could be said. She was clearly uncomfortable around Orthyn, though Cayla wondered how much of it was his blasphemy and how much was a fear that Dena might give in to her desires much as Cayla just had.
Lying on the floor, Cayla felt utterly drained. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten on the floor, though she didn’t much care either. She hoped that she hadn’t made a mistake in giving in so easily, though she realized it was likely too late to do anything about it if she was. As she felt Orthyn arms wrapping around her body and lifting her up and over his shoulder, she drifted off into a deep sleep.