Raine: The Lords of Satyr by Elizabeth Amber Read Free Book Online Page A

asked the Sicilian.
    “Yes.” She glanced at the overabundance of sweaty black hair that swelled from his collar and between the strained fastenings of his shirt. “Well, not all men.”
    “Disposed toward men,” Salerno noted in his black book.
    “So you wish to engage in sodomy?” the bishop inquired.
    “Thank you kindly for the offer,” said Jordan, “but—”
    The bishop hissed between his teeth, raising a hand as though to strike her before catching himself. “Blasphemous creature! If you must wear the Carnivale mask, it should be the moretta. Lips as foul as yours should remain forcibly buttoned.”
    The moretta he referred to was a mask that covered the entire face but had no string attached to tie it fast. Instead, it was held in position by its wearer biting a button on the inside of the lips. This necessitated that its wearer remain mute or lose the mask!
    “Have you ever been sexually aroused by a woman?” one of the drunkards inquired, drawing her gaze.
    She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Yes, but likely no more often than any of you have been aroused by a man. Whether its owner is male or female, a beautiful body, face, and spirit combined in one package tends to draw every eye. Do you not agree?”
    The men shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to admit the truth of what she said.
    “But if you were forced to choose one and only one gender as a sexual partner for the rest of your life on this earth, which would it be?” prodded the bishop.
    It was a question that dogged her. Did the circumstances of her body dictate that she could never be satisfactorily partnered for life with only one gender? If so, how could she ever hope to find love—unless she found another hermaphrodite who happened to suit her disposition! And what were the chances of that?
    “Must it be one or the other?” she asked. “Can your God not find it in His heart to allow the possibility that there might be a sliding scale in such matters? Can a body such as mine not seek its pleasure with both genders?”
    The bishop’s doughy complexion turned an apoplectic hue. “Again you blaspheme!”
    “But earlier tonight, you said you do not bleed,” the Englishman insisted, ignoring the outburst. “Aside from your breasts and vaginal canal, what is the source of this belief that you’re female?”
    Tapping her head, then her chest, she said, “It’s something my mind and heart direct me toward.”
    He nodded, seeming to understand.
    Salerno gestured toward her testes and wilting cock. “I must agree with the good bishop. With these new developments, your claim to womanhood seems to be hanging by a fragile thread.”
    He leaned low to her ear. “Perhaps my lie to your family was not so large after all.”
    She turned her head, whispering, “Then your hold on my family lessens.”
    His eyes slitted. She’d spoken unwisely.
    When she averted her gaze from him, it fell on the bishop. He’d overheard their conversation, and she saw the flash of curiosity in his eyes. She patted her mask making certain it was still in place.
    “What if you were to mate the subject with a man?” the Sicilian inquired suddenly. “If a child resulted, would that not prove it to be a female?”
    The six men studied her speculatively.
    Salerno tapped his chin with a long finger. “Or what if the subject were to mate with both a man and a woman, all under the strict surveillance of a theater full of medical men? And what if, in the course of such an experiment, La Maschera were to become both father and mother, all in the course of a single night?”
    The Sicilian’s eyes lit. “Now that would be something to draw crowds!”
    “I’ll never agree to such a thing,” said Jordan. “You know I wouldn’t. I’m no animal in heat to be caged and mated. And I would never indiscriminately bring children into this world. If I were ever so fortunate as to bear offspring, I would want to parent them for all the years afterward. If I were a