So I found myself again caught in a woman’s trap. The woman was decorated with delicate jewelry, but she was obviously dressed for an intimate encounter with the king. Her slight bosom was barely covered in a gossamer silk that showed every detail of her young breasts. The skirt she wore concealed nothing. It was totally sheer. I decided that I had to leave and try to figure out how to overcome this problem.
The king held out a paw-like hand, calloused by wielding the sword. Her delicate little hand slipped into it and she giggled slightly. I was poised to leave, but something in the king’s mind grabbed me like a vise around a certain part of my body. I realized that his body was responding to the sight of the woman. He lusted for her. Oh the gods and demons! She brazenly sat on his lap and wiggled as she felt his rising appendage against her body. She turned and I could see her pink lips, but I no longer heard what she was saying. She stroked the king’s perfectly coifed beard with one hand and—may she be cursed—she slipped the other hand into his royal robe, pinching his nipple as if she were possessed by the primeval Whore Jahi. I felt my body convulse. I felt his hideous erection building as if it were a pig’s bladder filled with too much water. It would burst and I would die.
I finally fought down my panic and took control. I used the king’s body to snatch the girl by her hair and fling her to the ground. She ran from the room after staring at him in disbelief. I was just about to make good my escape when the door flung open and the accursed sorcerer-mage Rustem stepped in. He saw me. I know he saw me there in the mind of the king, although I cannot say how. He reached for his waist and pulled out the kusti rope these mages wear to effect a spell and he shook it hard three times. I screamed as I was wrenched out and thrown back into my body. The pain I felt was agonizing. I screamed again as I saw that a large rat was gnawing on my left great toenail, causing it to bleed. My cry barely frightened it, and it stared at me with red eyes and a bloody mouth.
I hastened back to my quarters in the mage hall, but the sorcerer-mage Rustem was waiting for me with armed soldiers. Before I could dispel them with a curse, Rustem put a binding spell on me. He was devilishly powerful. It was at this point that I decided that when I killed him—for certainly I would never suffer a man to live who was so powerful—I would see to it that he suffered intensely. Yes, he would know fear like he never imagined.
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