Free Irsud by Jo Clayton Page B

whip.
    â€œNo!” She brought her heel down on the reaching fingers, her notions of pity abruptly forgotten, regretting the softness of her bare feet, wanting a stout pair of spiked shoes to drive the lesson deep in Gapp’s flesh. Gapp shrieked and Aleytys slowly took her foot away. Watching the nayid struggle to her knees, she backed a few paces away.
    As soon as Gapp tottered to her feet, Aleytys lashed out with her foot and kicked the whip toward the building. “Now pick it up,” she snarled. She stood, head back, defiant, arrogant, insolently proud of her body and strength, radiating confidence in her ability to control the situation. “Good,” she said when the nayid scooped the whip up. “Now, coil it.”
    Gapp complied sullenly.
    â€œGood. Get out of here and don’t come back. I don’t walk your road and I don’t feel like learning. Come at me again and I’ll have the kipu lift your scalp.”
    Gapp snorted, her short stubby antennas jerking with disdain.
    Aleytys felt the rising confidence, the new-born arrogance, and knew she’d made a mistake. So the kipu’s fine words meant nothing. Well, that wasn’t so unexpected. She caught hold of her own anger and blasted it at the young nayid, sending her staggering back.
    â€œGet out of here.” Aleytys flung the words at her with anger and disgust. “I don’t need the kipu to handle you. Pull your tricks on me again and I’ll smash you. Flat!”
    Gapp stumbled through the doorway, disappearing into the mahazh.
    Aleytys sighed and scuffed slowly through the grass toward the stone seat, feeling sick to the verge of nausea, sick and just a little pleased with herself. She picked up the discarded garment and slid it over her head, knotting the shoulder straps so that it would stay on, the sore spots on her shoulders and arms reminding her that she’d better get busy healing her wounds.
    A high shrill scream loaded with pain jerked her around. It came from the bedroom. She began running toward the doorway.
    Its swish-crack counterpointing with Gapp’s harsh breathy giggles, the black whip swung, cutting bloody lines on Aamunkoitta’s back as she crouched beside a tumbled pile of linen, shrieking wildly, yet oddly passive beneath the punishment. Aleytys caught hold of the entranceway’s smooth edge, appalled.
    The hiiri squalled and wriggled under the lashing that drew lines of blood crossing and recrossing her naked back, but she made no attempt to escape even though her hands and feet were free. She was hurting. Aleytys frowned, puzzled by the mixture of emotions emanating from the curiously involved pair, a weaving of pain and pleasure into a sickening vortex that lapped seductively at her, sucking her into the whirl that bound the two together.
    She wrenched herself free, profoundly disturbed at the sexual response in her own body to the violent emotional involvement of Gapp and Aamunkoitta. Frightened, she whispered urgently. “Swardheld, help me.”
    The black eyes opened. Calm flowed into her twitching limbs, her body straightened, took on a subtly altered balance as Swardheld shrugged himself into possession and looked coolly around. Gapp and Aamunkoitta remained too self-involved to notice his/her intrusion into the scene.
    Swardheld stepped quietly past the bed. He caught hold of the whip just above Gapp’s hand, settled his foot against her skinny posterior, then straightened his leg, jerking the whip free as he sent the nayid into a broken-kneed slide that ended against the far wall.
    Awkwardly, slowly, Gapp pulled her splayed-out legs under her and fumbled onto her feet. Snuggled safe and warm inside her skull, Aleytys felt the paralyzing astonishment radiating from the slack-faced staring nayid and she exulted in it. Swardheld felt it through her and laughed in his turn, a short sharp bark. He lifted the whip.
    â€œYour turn, princess.” Aleytys’