The Emperor's Pleasure

she looked at him, there wasn't anything to say, she did smile, a smile on her face was a rare, rare thing. She was the kind of girl who was afraid of rejection but she could tell what he said was praise, she nodded some and bowed before him, she left the room and went into the bath house.
 
With Shanti, they came for her towards the end of the day.
Three grim-looking henchmen arrived at the bathouse, presented themselves to Karinna.
"The girl with the raven hair - the last of the three captives - Tallon requires her."

Short, to the point, spat out - not even asking for her by name.

Shanti was taken, in the cool of the desert eveming, across the courtyard, around the market square, into the great labyrinthine complex of the Palace itsefl. She may as well have been blindfolded, there was no point in trying to remember all the twists and turns that she took, before she finally arrived at her destination.

One of the henchmen knocked, three times, on a large black door, set in with ornate carvings. A deep voice rumbled from inside, and the door swung open.

Chuckling, they pushed her inside, and the door swung silemtly shut behind her.

There in front of her, stood the enormous Tallon. He was even larger and more menacing than he had first appeared. Standing with his huge legs slightly apart, arms folded, watching, scrutinising her. He did not say a word.
 
Shanti stood there, trying to control her trembling, as Tallon's eyes bore into her. He was studying her, that she knew, and she fought to keep her compusure. When Rose and Renn had returned to the quarters from the bathhouse, they had not been harmed. Renn had been crying again, but Shanti could tell it was not from pain. Rose still kept to herself, the only hint of emotion she showed was a secretive smile that played along her lips. But again, the girl had apparently not been abused. This first meeting with Tallon was most likely a test, Shanti thought. Something the huge man could use to guage how much "training", as he put it, each girl needed. With that in mind, Shanti decided that she would do whatever it took to pass his test. She had to bide her time, lull Tallon and the other guards into thinking she had been cowed, before she could figure out a way to escape. She had no intention of ending up like Ophelia, but she would not be broken by this beast.

What had Tallon said when he first met them last night (Gods, was it only last night?) "This is a harsh place. If you fight against it, you will find it harsher." This one was bound to be shrewd and she would not make the mistake of underestimating him. Dropping to her knees, Shanti bowed low, her forehead almost touching the plush oriental rugs that covered the floor of the ornate room. She stretched out her arms before her, showing her long, elegant fingers that were used to nimble work at the loom. This position also kept her well-formed ass high in the air, and Shanti knew some men adored such supplication. She would have to gamble on her next move--if he were as clever as she suspected, he would see through any feigned subservience instantly. But Shanti was clever, too, and took a chance. Shanti hoped he would not respond with punishing her for speaking out of turn, but perhaps glimpse at the fire in her that she suspected could equal his own. Keeping her voice strong but respectful, she addressed the bull of a man with a god's eyes.

"Sir, if it pleases you, I am called Shanti."
 
Tallon stood impassively as the girl called Shanti bowed before him. Noticed her long, supple, but still delicate fingers. Noticed the curve and swell of her ass, as she allowed him a good look. A girl's fingers and her bottom.......if Tallon were ever to admit to a weakness, those aspects of a girl would have been first on his list.
And the way she presented herself.......Tallon's deep green eyes flashed briefly as she dared to challenge his stare. He had not risen to be Head Trainer by being stupid - he had had to fight hard to get to the position he was in now, and his size alone would have been insufficient, had it not been allied to cunning. He was not a deep thinker, but an instinctive one, and very rarely did he make a misjudgement, and his instant summing up of character or situation was second to none.
This girl was clever, and may well need to be watched.
Talented - well that she had yet to prove, and he would give her her chance. That she had deliberately shown her fingers - well, the other girls had surely discussed what he had instructed them to do, and that was no surprise. And showing off her ass, most women would do the same, should they possess that as an asset. But this girl seemed to have an instinctive empathy, an ability to spot another's weakness, or their desires, that he himself posessed, and this made him wary.

He stood there for a moment longer, and then came to a decision.

His voice was deep, less harsh than when he had first addressed her, but no less commanding. Some looked at him in awe when he spoke, as though they feared lightning were to flash from his eyes, thunder to roll from his mouth, such was the effect of his presence.

"You will dance for me."
 
"You will dance for me."

Shanti breathed an inward sigh of relief and allowed herself a brief smile. She had gambled correctly and had not been beaten. Even the man's voice, although still threatening to roar with the sound of the ocean, was not as harsh as it had been prior. And, if all he wanted was a dance, well--Shanti knew how to dance.

Even without benefit of music, Shanti began undulating her body upwards from the floor. Her arms snaking back towards herself, her back arching as she drew herself up to her knees. Back in her village, the older women adored her for her maturity, cleverness, and wit. However, knowing such traits were frowned upon by most prospective suitors, they had taught her all they knew of the seductive art of raqs sharqi. Now she drew on those long, hard lessons, the music of the sitar playing in her mind, and Shanti danced as though she were back home, teasing the village boys.

Rising to her feet, Shanti moved her hips to the music only she could hear. Her arms swaying in counterpoint to her hips, her long fingers playing with an imaginary veil. She moved slowly around Tallon, keeping the expression on her face unreadable. She smiled slightly, but not at Tallon. She grew serious at times, but always just before a rather difficult piece of dance. Careful not to touch him, but close enough for him to feel the draft of her hair as it flowed about her during the dance. She was dancing to a piece typically known as Beyond the Sky--a powerfully sensuous dance that was could not be construed as overtly sexual. Shanti wanted him to feel the strength of it, the beauty of it, the sexuality of it. That was her key to survival here--she had many talents (dance was not all the women in the village had taught her on how to keep a husband) and even the strongest, most powerful men had their weaknesses.

As the song in her mind ended, Shanti brought the dance to a close, ending again in the low bow before Tallon. Not showing fear, not showing disrespect, but not showing resignation, Shanti hoped to keep the Head Trainer off-balance--and interested.
 
Tallon watched, still not allowing a flicker of emotion to cross his impassive face, as the girl presented her dance. This girl was no beginner, that was for certain. Almost impulsively, as she swayed and flickered to and fro, he found himself drawn into the rythmn of it, wanting to follow her with more than his eyes, could hear the sound of the drums and the sitars, as she wove her magical spell of dance around him.

That he stayed absolutely still, was more a testament to his training, and his strength of mind, than a slur on the girl's ability to dance. He watched her fingers drawing the imaginary veil from her face, was drawn to watching them like a moth to a flame. This girl did not need training - she needed handling, and carefully. This was a different feeling to the one provoked by the previous girls - in their case, innocence was their main draw, their main strength. He had been aroused, as he always was, by innocence. But this girl - she was already experienced, and talented, and he fought to keep a rising excitement from building inside him.

He was aware this excitement was dangerous, that it could lead to the girl having a power, an influence over him, that he did not want. The main threat, he knew, came not from without, but from within, from someone who knew how to make him weak, to make him want, and need.

Th dance finished. The girl, bowing low, and yet in a way that was neither servile, nor ironic - just the right amount of deference. Tallon felt the front of his tunic suddenly tighten, as his body reacted as it always did to a submissive who knew how to play the game.

He kept his voice low, and steady.

"You have done this before." The girl nodded.
"I think, you have pleasured in other ways, before, too."
The girl did not respond at this, but kept looking at the floor.

"Well, since you will not reply, I will have to see whether I am right." His voice stern, unbending.

"You have made a point of showing me, in your dance, that you can use your hands. You will now use those hands, and fingers, to please me. I will see whether you will need training in such matters."

He stood back, massive, unyielding, watching the slim, graceful, sensual creature in front of him.
 
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You will now use those hands, and fingers, to please me. I will see whether you will need training in such matters."

The meaning of his words was clear and Shanti had half-expected this. After all, surely Renn had not come back crying merely because she had danced for him. However, the huskiness in his voice now was unmistakable--her dance had affected him. When she rose from the floor, she dared a look into his eyes. The deep green, tinged with gold--they were cold, hard, and mesmerizing. There was more to this man than his position as Head Trainer allowed him to let on, Shanti was sure of it. And she would have to plumb those depths if she was going to survive. She was careful not to stare, not to challenge as she looked into those eyes, and quickly cast them down to the bulge that was testing the tensile strength of his tunic's fabric.

Tallon had not moved since she had stepped into the room, but she could tell throughout her dance that he had been fighting the urge. Although she was navigating a precipice, Shanti had apparently succeeded in staying on the right side of his favor. She would have to tread carefully in order to stay there. She moved slowly towards her captor, her mind racing. Any girl could simply drop to her knees and "please" this hulking menace before her, but Shanti needed to be better than that. She needed to be--memorable.

She had watched him follow her hands throughout her dance, and she had been sure to keep them moving, taunting, teasing. And although he himself hadn't moved, those hypnotic eyes of his would always watch what they were doing. An interesting obsession, she thought to herself and made a mental note to use them to their best advantage with him. She was inches away from Tallon, her head only coming up to his chest. With a lithe hand, she reached up and stroked his face, again daring a look into his eyes. Her fingers lingering along the jawline, tracing down the hollow of his throat, across his broad chest, and down a muscular arm. As she did, the other hand came up to the part of him most in need of attention. Through the silk of his tunic, she stroked him and watched the bulge grow. With her free hand, she slowly unbuttoned his tunic, her hand pressing, caressing his huge chest after every button was freed. Nails lightly scratching down his chest until her hand met the other that had never stopped its rhythmic stroking.
 
Tallon

Tallon exhaled as she unbuttoned his tunic, he was unable to control that small expression of pleasure. She was daring, this girl, and walking a tightrope with him. One false move, one action or gesture that could be interpreted as disrespectful or impertinent....and his mighty hand would sweep across to strike her, flinging her to the floor. After that, he might take his pleasure in any way that he pleased, as a punishment, and then banish her to the bathouse for weeks, even months.

But at the moment she was negotiating the tightrope with great skill.......her nails, he did love manicured nails on delicate fingers, and the way her hands were pressing and stroking him......he gave a grunt as her hands met, and began their rubbing through his tunic, and unbidden his huge hand travelled to her head, taking her hair in his large fingers, gathering it in anticipation.

His cock was now almost fully erect, pressing urgently against the fabric, and he silently urged her to slide her little hands inside, to free him.........
 
Shanti felt the warm breath of air escape Tallon as he sighed, letting her know that he was enjoying her attentions, but still trying valiantly not to let it show. But the huge cock that grew and throbbed under her gentle, teasing stroking betrayed him. The sigh became a grunt as both hands now stroked, pressed, caressed him through the luxurious silk, letting him feel the silk along his flesh, the warmth of her hands only milimeters away. As rough, calloused hands grabbed her hair, Shanti gasped, thinking that she had finally gone too far--had made a misstep along her fragile precipice and would now be punished for it. But nothing more happened. Tallon's breathing was still quickening, but not with anger. Not wanting to risk inciting his wrath in any way, Shanti undid the last button, freeing him from the bounds of his tunic.

She moved one hand down to his balls, massaging, lightly scratching, squeezing gently. The other she wrapped around his shaft, gripping firmly, but not tightly. She moaned a little as she did this, remembering the women in the village telling her that men loved hearing women's sighs. Shanti would have to draw on everything the village women had taught her, everything she had tried when playing with the boys in the back of her father's market stall. Like Indra in a constant battle to keep control of the heavens from the demons, Shanti had to keep control of her life from Tallon. But whereas Indra had thunder and rain at his disposal, Shanti only had her hands. And her mind. And she would use them both.

One hand on the shaft of his cock, the other constantly massaging, teasing his balls, Shanti moved her thumb along the head. Small, rhythmic circles, tracing the head, skirting around the sensitive edge, back over the top. When she saw the drop of precum glistening at the tip, she began to slowly stroke the length of him, her other hand never stopping the squeezing, scratching, gentle fondling of his balls. She gripped him more firmly, feeling the heat of him, the strength of him, and couldn't help but be awed. He was larger than any boy she'd ever been with, stronger, and more in control of himself.
 
Tallon's breath came quicker now, no longer bothering to hide his arousal. This girl was good, very good........the way she rubbed and scratched and teased his balls, she knew just what to do......his cock throbbed and pulsed in her hands, hot and huge and erect as she rubbed and stroked, teased, did everything she could to please him. Precum glistened at the tip, bright, silvery, oozing down the shaft, coating her fingers, making everything slippery......

His breath coming more in grunts, as she expertly worked him, his hands tightening in her hair, her hands all over his cock and balls.......

"Take off your panties." His voice came out, in a harsh croak. "Take them off!"
 
"Take off your panties." His voice came out, in a harsh croak. "Take them off!"

Shanti was surprised by the urgency in his voice. How quickly his control had left him! She couldn't help but smile inwardly, a bit of her vanity showing. But now she was indecisive. As long as she pleasured him, she was in control. The moment she stopped, even for the brief time it would take her to remove her pavada and panties, would give him respite and time to gather his senses. But not to obey would surely lead to brutal punishment. She needed both her hands to unwrap the sari Karinna had dressed her in and remove her undergarments.

So, she did the only thing that she could under the circumstances. She went to her knees, one hand still stroking him, faster now, as the precum acted as lubricant, making her movements slick. The other she used to unwrap most of the silken garment, letting it drop to the floor. The pavada would be another matter, as it was tied in the back. There was no shrugging out of the choli, either, but Tallon hadn't asked her to remove her blouse. Still trying to keep a rhythm, Shanti now moved closer to him, still on her knees, his hands buried in her hair, firm but not painful. Her hand reached the head of his cock again, her thumb rubbing lazily around it, pressing down at times, then barely touching as Tallon grunted, moaned, and sighed. Then, just as she took her hand away, she flicked her tongue out at the huge, purplish head, and she heard the sharp intake of breath at his surprise. Licking around the head, flicking at the edges, running her tongue down its length, Shanti quickly undid the knot of her pavada, letting it drop to the floor. Covering just the head in her mouth, she sucked lightly, her tongue still playing, licking, teasing as she wriggled out of her panties. She felt his grip in her hair tighten, surely to move her head further along his shaft, so Shanti quickly stood, her hands replacing her mouth, and stepped out of the clothing she had removed.
 
Tallon

He had lost some of his control, and he knew she sensed it, and he didn't care. Her skilful fingers had aroused and inflamed him, and were about to expose one of his weaknesses, that for a pretty pair of panties, skilfully applied.
He appreciated the way she didn't let up on him for a moment, even while she was removing them, these were all good points that despite his loss of control, he was still aware of and mentally setting aside.......

How she had got him to this point, he did not quite know, all he knew was that he wanted her to rub him, tease him, caress his aching cock in her pretty soft panties, until he lost control completely and erupted inside them. Again, a small voice was telling him to back off, that this was dangerous, that she could turn his weaknesses against him, but another subtle twist of her hand, a change in pressure, and direrction, and he was again tightening his huge hands in her hair, and losing sight of everything else but the sensations rushing to his head.

She stood in front of him, her panties in one hand, his purple, swollen cock in the other, and his next order came in a harsh grunt.
"Rub it.......rub it in your panties......"
 
Shanti faltered for the briefest of moments, perplexed. She had assumed he wanted her to remove her panties so that he could mount her, take her, rape her as he surely had done with every other captive ever to walk through those black doors. But that's not what he wanted. He only wanted her to continue to stroke him, but with the soft silk of the panties. He was grunting now, moving his hips in time to her stroking, completely lost in his lust and need, but Shanti was intrigued. She liked a puzzle--it showed depth of character. Anyone, especially a man as large and strong as Tallon, could have spun her around and taken her, done anything he wanted with her. But Tallon hadn't done that. He wasn't even truly commanding her anymore. They were requests--a subtle difference to be sure, but a difference nonetheless.

Fascinated by these turn of events, Shanti picked up her panties and draped them over the head of his cock as she continued to stroke with one hand. The other hand she brought up and rubbed the thumb around the head, again letting him feel the soft silk on his most sensitive spots. A dark spot quickly began to spread, more precum as Tallon's breathing came in ragged gasps. She then took the panties and wrapped them around the shaft, the thumb of one hand running circles around the head, down the shaft, then back up. She moved to caress and fondle his balls again, while rubbing the panties along his swollen cock. Tallon was almost panting now, very close to cumming. At first, Shanti tried not to think about her naked body so close to him, this enormous man almost primal now in his lust. But then she realized she could use it to her advantage.

Stepping closer still, her hand continuously rubbing the panties along his massive cock, she leaned against him, letting him feel the warmth of her skin. She used his body to brace herself and, rocking in time with him, squeezed a little harder, stroked a little faster, her thumb always making a quick circle around the head before plunging back down the length of him. The delicate fabric of the panties always against his flesh, the soft silk such a stark contrast to the hard, stiff, cock. She moaned a little as she felt his balls tighten, his cock tremble and jump in her hand.
 
Tallon's breath came out in a hiss as the soft, sensual panties rubbed along the length of his cock. He could not help himself, a small moan issued from his lips, as she rubbed and teased and stroked with an expert pressure and skill, always teasing, massaging his huge, heavy balls atthe same time. And then when he felt the warmth of her skin next to his, her softness and delicate warmth, combined with her panties, and her fingers...........his hands gripped tightly in her hair, huge, tugging her this way and that, a leaf in a storm, as he bucked his huge hips into her tiny little panties, fucking them, fucking her soft white panties with his huge cock, the whiole time her long, slender fingers teasing and rubbing his balls, until with a great roar, a bellow, he thrust his cock one last time into the soft fabric, and erupted his hot, creamy, sticky seed inside them.

In an instant the panties were soaked, saturated with his seed, another spurt landed on her tummy, the next her neck, dribbling, trickling down onto her bare breasts.

Tallon stood then, like a giant tree about to topple, his knees, his legs barely able to carry his weight, after the force, the intensity of his eruption.......
 
His voice like thunder, his hands entwined tightly in her hair, almost crushing her against him, Tallon came in her hand, her panties. Great spurts drenching the thin, delicate fabric, then covering her stomach and breasts. Then he was spent, barely able to stand, and finally released his grip. Shanti could tell he was disoriented, unsure of himself for probably the first time in a long time and struggling to regain his composure. She regarded him carefully, although he was perplexing her. Tallon was a beast, surely, but he hadn't struck her, hadn't taken her unwillingly, hadn't asked for anything she wasn't prepared to give. He had held her closely as he came closer to the brink. Shanti was intrigued by this mystery--the Head Trainer with the body of a beast and a mind no doubt as sharp as hers. How unlike the dim-witted boys at home, she thought, and could begin to feel a wetness between her legs as she remembered the warmth of Tallon's skin, his muscles rippling beneath her, and the feel of his huge, hard, throbbing cock in her hand. But at the moment, she was still captive, still in danger while he was off-balance and uncertain, and he could turn violent in his attempt to reassert himself.

"My lord," she began, using the edge of her sari to clean him. "You grant high praise to this undeserving slave." And again bowed low before him.
 
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Tallon was giddy, the rush of blood to the pleasure centres in his brain had disoriented and weakened him temporarily. His giant hands weakened for a moment in her hair, as he regained himself. The loss of control was disconcerting to him, and he needed to reassert himself as soon as possible.

His huge hand grabbed her wrist as she began to clean him, and his voice was slightly unsteady, a little cracked, as he barked at her.

"You take a liberty too far. Did I command you to clean me?"

She looked up at him, at his blazing green eyes, so recently clouded and unfocused in their ecstasy, now sharpening once more, honing down on her, pinning her in their gaze.

She shook her head, her eyes deferentially lowering once more.

"You will learn that you do nothing, without my express command."

She continued to look at the floor.

In fact, she had done several things that he had not expressly commanded her to do, and he had not noticed, or minded.....he had even enjoyed them, but Shanti was far too clever to let on.

Tallon gavea grunt as she showed her deference. He would keep this girl in her place, no doubt about it. In fact, he would make sure he kept a very close personal eye on her, make a full assessment of her capabilities, all in the name of pleasing the Emperor, of course. She could be a trouble-maker, this one - all the better that he saw her regularly, make sure she wasn't getting up to any mischief.

His grip in her hair tightened once more, pulling her face up to look at his own.

"Now you will clean me - but you must learn to use your mouth, and tongue. You will be the Emperor's personal property to use, should you be so lucky. You must learn to serve Him properly."
 
And then it came. That dominating force of will that she knew would--must--resurface and reorient itself.

"You take a liberty too far. Did I command you to clean me?"

He was hurting her wrist and wasn't even aware of it. In his current state of mind, Shanti was sure that if she let on that she was in pain, he would use it to focus on. Instead, she bore it and simply looked down at the floor again, careful not to meet his eyes. She needed him to see her as vulnerable, not a threat.

"Now you will clean me - but you must learn to use your mouth, and tongue. You will be the Emperor's personal property to use, should you be so lucky. You must learn to serve Him properly."


However, as much as he was trying to regain his composure, the voice was not what it once was. It was breathy, ragged around the edges, and not as confident as it was that first night in the courtyard. She had gotten to him. Even as he gripped her hair tighter to force her to look at him, she could see it in those eyes. They were dancing now, in the same rhythm as her dance previously.

She began to weave her spell anew, going back down on her knees so that she was eyeline to his groin. His still-hard cock, sticky with semen, was waiting. Moving closer, her hands on his hips to steady herself, she ran her tongue down the length of his shaft. Back up, swirling around the head, taking him slowly into her mouth. She moved her hands to his ass, digging in her nails a bit, and moaning as she pulled him all the way down her throat. Back out again, swirling around the head, licking the sensitive underside of the shaft, then the balls. She gently took one into her mouth, sucking softly, pulling him closer to her still. Then the tongue up his stiff cock, flicking all around the head, and then drawing him back into her mouth. His breathing quickened and she could hear the softest of sighs escape his lips.

But here she stopped. He had asked only that she clean him and she had done just that. If he wanted her to continue, she was prepared, but he was going to have to request it. Still on her knees, the picture of obliviousness to his building desire, she moved herself into that now-familiar low bow--head almost touching the floor, arms over her head, hands on the floor with fingers spread.
 
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Tallon held the girl's head still, enjoyed the feeling of her hot mouth around him, her soft tongue as it licked and swirled and cleaned. And then she stopped. Retired to her position of supplication once more. Tallon approved of this, felt he had the girl where he wanted her.

"Did I command you to stop?"

Shanti looked up at him - was it that his eyes did seem for one moment to soften? You could not call it a twinkle, not for one moment, but there seemed to be just a momentary lapse of icy steel, maybe the nearest such a man could come to a smile, or a joke. And then the familiar expression returned, the burning, omniscient jade stare.

Shanti understood.
 
Phallar is a reluctant, if dutiful trainer for the Emperor’s pets. Once a captain of the Royal guard, this tall handsome warrior, fell decidedly out of favour with his Lord, by an imprudent liaison with one of the Emperors slaves. Given his loyal service over the years, and a somewhat ironical twist of humour, Phallar was banished from the Royal presence and ordered to become a trainer of his Emperor’s pets.

He has watched Rose for some time, and his years of command have given him a shrewd mind, and a fine judge of character. He sees clearly the determination and ambition which lurks silently in her heart. He also sees the lack of fear, and the willingness to do anything it takes to achieve her goals. As favourable a candidate as she may seem, Phallar’s instincts warn of the possible dangers of one so cunning. Mistrust burns hot in his guts as he watches her seeming submissiveness, and behind the calm startlingly blue eyes, and lean handsome visage, a hardness enters his soul as he considers her future. The girl must learn her place in the hierarchy of the world she has become a part of, and Phallar is determined to break her, and remould he into becoming the emperor’s favourite. For, as clearly as he sees her potential for pleasuring the Emperor, he sees the chance in her to revive the trusted position he once had in the Royal guard.

Sitting upright in his well appointed quarters, the former captain turns to waiting slave, and orders "go fetch Rose, and bring her to me immediately."
 
she sighed some looking around she saw a slave girl coming and she followed her, soon she was outside a big beautiful door and the slave showed her in knocking first she looked at the man before her, the slave bowed and left, Rose looked at the man she bowed before him, she said nothing and looked on the ground, she sighed some not saying a thing.
 
Phallar sits quietly behind a small, elegantly carved oaken desk, and his ice blue eyes are fixed with concentration upon the report he is writing. At the soft knock, and the subsequent entrance of Rose, the light scratching of the quill upon the parchment continues unabated. A half an hour passes, and the room is completely silent save for the scratch, sctatch, scratching of quill on parchment. Then, without looking up, Phallar says in a low, deep voice devoid of expression “Take of your clothes Rose, and kneel to your new master”
 
Shanti

She looked up from her position on the floor, glancing at Tallon's eyes, again careful not to challenge. It took only the briefest of moments, but she watched them stop their playful dance, lose the music, and were again a cold jade. But his voice had not yet regained its earlier timbre. It was not the raging thunderclap it used to be, but more like a rolling surf. And he was still not commanding her. No, this was closer to a broad suggestion. Shanti was still perched on her precipice, but her footing was much surer now.

Languidly, almost catlike, Shanti rose from her bow. She made certain that Tallon saw her full form, the long raven-black hair that caught the lght and trapped it, her pert breasts, the tight tummy honed through years of dancing the raqs shardi, her athletic legs, her long slender arms, and her nimble fingers tipped in red polish. Careful not to meet his stare, she stepped closely to him, pressed her body against his, and cupped his balls in her hand. He was still damp with sweat from his earlier exertions and she breathed him in, forgetting for a moment that this man was responsible for the torment of scores, perhaps hundreds. But he was strong, willful, confident, clever--and so unlike anyone Shanti had ever met before.

Tallon's soft moan broke her trance and she redoubled her efforts. Massaging his balls, lightly scratching, teasing, as she ran the nails of her other hand over his chest. His groin came up to her tummy, and she leaned in closer, pressing against his poor, neglected cock, trapping it between them, as she continued her scratching, fondling, squeezing. Only when his breathing quickened did she move to kneel in front of him, ready to take him into her mouth again. She put one hand on his hip to steady herself, the other never leaving his balls, feeling them tighten as he became more aroused. Leaning forward, she snaked out her tongue, licking around the head, paying special attention to the sensitive edges. Then with both hands on his hips now, she pulled him closer, manuevering him into her mouth, making him come to her. And, as she suspected, he did so willingly, almost desperately. She drew him into her warm, wet mouth, her tongue swirling around the head and down the shaft as he filled her throat. Sucking, again a hand to his balls to squeeze, scratch and Tallon could not help letting out another moan, those cold green eyes closing, lost in the moment, this moment with the slave girl called Shanti.

She moved along his cock, up and down the length, feeling it jump and tremble in her mouth as he came closer to orgasm. She could tell he was fighting to keep control, but she was sucking, licking, never ceasing. He began to move his hips in time with her, fucking her mouth, and, despite herself, now she couldn't help moaning. His hands were in her hair, holding her to him, but not hurting her, as he continued to thrust. He was grunting now, his breathing coming in pants, and she put a hand to his cock, slick with his own precum and her saliva, and moved it in time with her mouth. A firm, practiced grip, her hand now an extension of her soft, wet, warm mouth that moved along the length of him, up and down, moving faster, sucking, licking. And now even she was lost in the moment.
 
Djavan the Swift

Djavan Matos was born in Brazil. He remembered nothing of his home country, as his family was sold to as labor slaves to the Emperor when he was very young. Djavan had always been very lean; his bronze skin looked as if it were painted onto the canvas of long, defined muscles that composed his long limbs. He was built for one thing, speed. Djavan was FAST! He could run from the temple construction site to the town square and back within one minute.

Once Djavan was of age, he was recruited into the Emperor’s slave infantry. The slave infantry’s job was primarily to die. A unit trained to hurl themselves into traps in the hopes of revealing them for the main army.

Djavan was a born survivor. On the battlefield he was reborn, into an artist of death without the privileges of fear or regret. His speed and merciless tactics quickly began turning suicide missions into legendary victories for the lowly slave ranks. After leading the slaves to defeat a hoard of invading nomads from the North (Who outnumbered the slaves 3 to 1), Djavan earned the highest compliment any slave can ever hope to earn: pleasing the Emperor.

The Emperor was pleased with Djavan’s fighting skill and Djevan was subsequently freed from his enslavement.

Today a note had arrived at Djavan’s quarters. The note was sent directly from the Emperor, he recognized the hand. Djavan eagerly tore at the envelope, the thought of another battle making his pulse race.

It turned out that the royal sex slave trainers were overbooked, and a beautiful young Western girl had just arrived from France, but would need extensive training.

“Training a sex slave?” Djavan mused to himself, “What the hell do I know about sex slaves?”

Though he never had owned a sex slave or been one, he didn’t understand why the Emperor thought he could do this. One thing, however, was certain; he could not refuse an order from the Emperor.

He made his way toward the young girl’s room.
 
Tallon's eyes were shut tight, all his senses narrowed, focussed, on the incredible sensations that the girl's mouth was producing, the heat, the tight soft wetness of her mouth around him her skilful fingers rolling and teasing.......a war could have broken out a few feet away, and he would not have noticed.
Bucking his huge hips, following her rythmn, in and out of her hot soft wet mouth, fucking it, pumping his huge cock in and out, the size making her gag a little, feeling the delicious familiar tremble in his knees once more, Goliath, completely at the mercy of this humble slave.

"Arrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh" The groan, torn from his lips, the green eyes now bright and wild, as he ejaculated once more into her willing mouth, flooding it, hands clenching hard in her flowing hair, the sticky juice running down into her throat as she valiantly attempted to swallow it all.

She held still there, as he rocked back and forth, not wanting the sensation to end, she even felt him stumble a little as the weakness took hold of him.

At last he had finished, breathless, he pulled himself out of her mouth.

"You - you performed.........well," he managed to say. This time there could be no doubt as to the loss of timbre in that once deep and commanding voice.

Tallon himself was beginning to feel unnerved - this girl might have bewitched him, so utterly had he lost himself in his pleasure. Shaking his head, as though to clear it, he took a step backwards. "I wish to know.....where did you learn your arts? How is it that a humble girl such as yourself, should know so much about pleasure. Are you a spy, sent by my enemies to weaken me?"
 
Emily stirred awake in a huge room, she looked out of the window and was afraid to see some alien land.
She pinched herself but to her horror it was not a dream she was terrified and started to explore the room to try and find an exit but to her horror the room was locked but it was filled with a lot of things she had never seen before
 
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