The Emperor's Pleasure

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon grunted as Shanti poured him a glass of wine, and felt a jolt of pleasure course through him, as she trailed her long fingernails up his huge, muscled arm.
He did not complain, or object, as she moved behind him, beginning to knead his massive, thickly knotted shoulders with her strong, slender fingers, began to feel the anger loosen inside him, and a gradual warmth spread from his shoulders, to his stomach, and to his loins.

She was softening him up......all the things that he had put himself on guard against....but the feeling was so good. Just a little longer, until he had relaxed a little, and then he would order her to go.

"If My Lord would tell me what he'd like to know, or where I should start, I would be more than happy to accommodate. I am here at your command."

At your command......yes, she was at his command. It was up to him to decide whether she should stay, or go, and he had decided, for the moment, that she should stay. It was his will that would prevail, and not Farsiris's!

He drank from the goblet, feeling the rich wine warm his stomach. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, he had to fight the temptation to lean back against her, to really let her work on him, fight against the urge to allow those fingers to work their way downwards, down to where he suddenly felt he wanted them to be, around the stirring he felt in his loins. He managed to succeed, at least for the moment.

"I would like to know, how it is that a village girl is so practised in the art of pleasure. The girls in the villages, usually have to be taught the basics, right from the start. Maybe you were a captive, in another city first?"

 

[poohlive]

He rushed upon her. In that moment fire danced in his eyes, the true heat of life came through him. It was as if he were a battery up until this moment, small and simple, carrying through it so much power, so much electricity, but in the end just a battery.

Somehow he had been charged. If anyone saw him now, they would see what he looked like on the battlefield, running toward the enemy. All they had to imagine was a sharp weapon in his hand, as ready and eager to tear into flesh as he was.

He grabbed her, pushing her up against one of the walls. Her body folded into his, melted into his hard muscles, strong flesh. It felt soo good to have her cornered like this, to feel her breasts heave up as she took in a single breath. He wanted to kiss her badly, but held his passion.

"If you want me, you can take me. You can take me wherever you like, for my sister's sake. But you will not have me. You will not have what it is you want, a true Norseman. I can lie there and let you have your fun, but you will not have me. You will only have my body. You want more though, don't you?"

And in that, he did kiss her. Partly to show her just how lifelike it could be, how strong and powerful, but mostly because his drive just would not allow him to have this woman so close, feeling soo good, and smelling like she did without kissing her once more. It was a hard kiss, deep, with his lips devouring hers, his tongue playing along her crimson lips, toying and touching with each soft piece of lickable flesh he could find.

"Do not treat me like one of them. You know how to treat me. If this is what you want, sweet Countess, do not treat me like them."

Even in his gravelled voice and strong will, it was a plea. The closest to a plea a man such as himself could make. It was all he had to give her.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

She heard him move. There was speed and raw power in his action, he was quiet for his size, but it was not Tallon’s catlike silence. Farsiris had trained her ear to pick up the rustle of his robe over the pounding of her heart. Davis would not catch her off guard. He would catch her, he would catch her and could then strangle her if he wanted to watch her suffer, or snap her neck if he was feeling merciful, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

She turned to face the assault, whatever he brought she take it face on, she would not meet it cringing like a coward.

The fire in his eyes stole her breath. Anger? Hatred? Lust? All of them or something else? She did not care; the fire was burning away his cool indifference and that was all that mattered to her. She had pushed him, now she would see if she had pushed him too hard, if she pushed him beyond control.

His hands grabbed her arms and held her against the wall. With a moan of mixed desire and relief, she finally drew a breath again, her breasts grazing against his chest as she filled her lungs. His fire melted her, and her body eased into him but although he had her trapped and overpowered the challenge remained in her eyes.

"If you want me, you can take me. You can take me wherever you like, for my sister's sake. But you will not have me. You will not have what it is you want, a true Norseman. I can lie there and let you have your fun, but you will not have me. You will only have my body. You want more though, don't you?"

He gave her no time to speak, but he might have read the answer in her eyes as his mouth came down on hers. He kiss felt alive to her, as if it had its own will and was bending hers. The heat of it her burned her lips as it fueled the deep fires within her and the sweet teasing of his tongue brought soft aching relief to her tender flesh.

"Do not treat me like one of them. You know how to treat me. If this is what you want, sweet Countess, do not treat me like them."

Her eyes met his as she raised a long-fingered hand to up his cheek, and the smallest of her fingers traced the strong, determined line of his jaw. “I don’t just want your body," Then she added with a smile, "As impressive as it is."

"A man’s body is a common thing and easy to get. The wink of an eye, the snap of my fingers, is all it takes.” She runs her hand up the hard muscle of his arm until it rests on his shoulder, fighting the urge to grab him and pull him to her. “You have a fire in you, one that may equal my own. That is what I want from you, Davis.”

She leaned her fiery head against his chest, as her green eyes remained locked with his. “Do not act like them and I will not treat you like them. Share your fire with me.”

 

[brigid_fitch]

Shanti plays Scheherazade

"I would like to know, how it is that a village girl is so practised in the art of pleasure. The girls in the villages, usually have to be taught the basics, right from the start. Maybe you were a captive, in another city first?"

Shanti felt Tallon loosen under her careful ministrations. He was still fighting her on some level, but he was conversing with her not as Head Trainer but as Tallon himself. He seemed genuinely curious, but there was something else; some other reason for his questioning her than his current somber mood. Then it occurred to her--if he already felt she was artful enough in pleasure, why hadn't he turned her over to the Emperor? That was his sole duty, after all--to train sex slaves for His Eminence. If Shanti was considered already trained, why was she still here? For Tallon's own pleasure, that was the only answer. Shanti had finally gotten what she wanted. She had Tallon wrapped around one of her slight, delicate fingers that he so much admired. She had won.

But what now?

She could not escape at the moment. And even if she did manage it, where would she go? The Palace itself was a maze and the Emperor's domain ranged far and wide. She couldn't survive the desert, could never hope to take comfort in one of His subjects' homes. In this Persian land, her native features were too remarkable to blend in. She continued to massage Tallon's shoulders, conscious of his question and of her current circumstances. Now was not the time, even if the opportunity was almost within her grasp. But, she realized, as long as she stayed here, in Tallon's domain, she could control the situation. And her destiny.

Shanti stopped kneading Tallon's tight shoulders and slowly moved to face him. If he was going to speak to her as a person and not a slave, she was going to respond in kind. This had been one of her goals--to never let him objectify her and it would seem she had finally achieved it. But she was not so over-confident to not reinforce the idea. She looked into those jade-green eyes, a beautiful counter-point to her deep brown ones, and reflected sympathy. Curling up in his lap, she took his face in her hands, slowly stroking his strong jawline with a light touch of her deft fingers.

"I was never captive before, My Lord Tallon," she answered, using his name for the first time. "But I am certainly captivated now." She leaned forward, tilting her head up to kiss him. A soft kiss, her tongue barely touching his lips. "I am honored that you find me pleasing," she continued as though nothing had happened, not allowing him a moment to react to her kiss. "The old women of my village would be proud that you have found me so, I'm sure." She locked eyes with him, no longer the subservient little sex slave. She was done playing her role and thought it time to show Tallon who she really was. And whom she could be.

"You may have noticed in other ways that I am not like most girls who have entered through your doors. The women of my village recognized this at once and taught me all they knew." She kissed him again, passionately this time, opening his lips with her tongue, probing into his mouth, teasing his tongue and teeth.

"I have been told that I have more wits and nerve than are good for me and, when not used for pleasure, my tongue is as sharp as your blade. These qualities are not the most sought-after for a merchant's wife, so the village women dedicated themselves to training me in other qualities." And with that, Shanti again kissed Tallon softly, trailing her hand down the front of his tunic, lightly dragging her nails against the soft silken fabric as she did so. When she had reached his groin, she begain to slowly stroke the growing bulge there.

"If you'd like to see what other 'qualities' I possess, you need only ask. When you commaneded me to come tonight, I told you I was glad of it and I meant it. There is fire in you, Tallon. Fire that has been too long contained." Shanti took a deep breath and stepped out again over her mental chasm. "We are two of a kind, Tallon. Two embers glowing in the dark, miles apart. But together, think of the blaze we could create." Her eyes remained on his, deep pools of chestnut brown reflected in his golden-green.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Tallon hesitated in his response to Shanti. He was used to being the aggressor in these situations, used to having the quivering girl at his feet begging for mercy, begging him to show her how she should behave.
But maybe some of what Farsiris had thrown at him had stuck, at least for the time being. He did not wish to be thought of as a bully, at least not a bully of weak slave girls. A bully of strong men, of fierce, wild creatures, of warriors in warfare - yes, that was the kind of bullying that had made his reputation. But Tallon had not fought in a long time, and he was aware that a man who allows his fighting reputation to slip, was a man asking to be challenged.

And now, this slave girl, for that was what she was, was talking to him as an equal, as someone with whom she could form a kind of partnership with..........the old Tallon would have slapped her hard, and beaten her, and made her beg for her life for her disrespect. But Shanti was no ordinary slavegirl........and the way she lightly dragged her nails downwards.........stroking him....again, Tallon managed to suppress the soft groan that rose to his lips, wanting her soft fingers to tease, to take out the ache in his loins, to rub and massage and squeeze and suck until he erupted like a wild animal, bellowing and roaring in his pleasure.

Shanti was right, there was a fire in him, a fire that, it seemed, only she was able to quench. He wanted her, wanted her all to himself, at least this time......he would delay telling the Emperor at least for a little longer...........surely that was not treason, he had served his Master well, He would not object to Tallon enjoying a girl like Shanti......

His big knotted hands grabbed her hair, pullling her head back, his breath beginning to rasp a little in his throat as her hands manipulated, teased, and rubbed him through his tunic.

"Out - take it out......you will pleasure ME tonight, you will be MINE, and not the Emperor's, at least for this night!"

There - the treasonable words were out, before he could stop them, but all he wanted now, were her soft, skilful fingers, teasing and rubbing him, for her to please him, for him to enjoy, all for himself.

 

[poohlive]

He wanted it. He knew she burned within her heart, burned with something he rarely saw with the girls from his country. After a battle he could have been thrown two or three girls like this into his tent at night. They would be another conquest to him, they would lie with him, but it would be no challenge, no real desire. It would become a chore, one he only did out of habit instead of pleasure.

But, to trade it all in for one girl like this. One of willingness and desire, one of temptation and fire.

"You will be treated as my countess," He said, and kissed her. He pulled her into him, melting his reserve upon her lips. There was fire there, soo much of it. To have her pulled into him, to have her tasted his own lips as he tasted hers. Such a thing had never been down before.

He kissed her, hard and fierce against the wall. He brought his hands down against her robe, pulling it off of her, when it lingered against her arms he just tore it loose. It ran down, pooling between their feet. Her body, naked, hot... as hot as her own desire within her, his own touch could never cool it.

Still, he tried. His hands ran over her, coming up her sides, feeling the push of her breast, running down the smooth of her back. He grabbed one leg, pulled it up, wrapped it around his own body, getting leverage, pushing her back even further.

He could not stop, he could never stop now. Even if her brother ran in, he would just continue until he was finished. He was a man posessed, who had finally found his true posessor.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

"You will be treated as my countess."

His words lost their meaning to Farsiris as he lowered his mouth to hers and their bodies pressed together. She slid her hand from his cheek to the gold hair of his head, and pulled him to her. Her desire, her lust, was a spreading fire that would soon burn out of control and she was driven by the need to share it with him, to make him burn too. She tested and tasted him, her lips and tongue stole his kisses, as they tasted his lips.

He kissed her, hard and fierce, holding her against the wall, yet she ground her body into his, arousing his fire, spreading her heat. She would take or she would give but she would not be taken. She wanted their fires to burn together; nearly out of control and blazing until nothing but smoldering ruins remained, and then, like the Phoenix, rise from the ashes to burn again.

His hands tore at the silk of her robe, but not even the chill of the afternoon air could cool the fire of her flesh. Naked and hungry, she forced her hands into his tunic, opening it for her fingers to spread fire where they touched his skin before pressing her breasts to hard muscles of his chest. Stretching and reaching, pushing against him, her hands tugged at his tunic until the cotton yielded to her and joined silk on the floor at their feet.

The cool strength of his hands moving over her naked flesh could not douse her desire only fuel it, but the power of his fingers as he grabbed her leg and wrapped himself in her drew a moan from her lips. He pushed her more forcefully into the wall, and she drove her heel into his hip, pulling him even closer.

Her arms were around his neck as she broke the kiss; she turned her head and whispered fiercely into his ear, “Give me your fire, mighty Northman. Let me feel how you burn.”

 

[brigid_fitch]

Shanti

"Out - take it out......you will pleasure ME tonight, you will be MINE, and not the Emperor's, at least for this night!"

Shanti sighed, more heavily than she meant to and instantly feared that Tallon would react negatively. Her disappointment at his command was almost a palpable thing. He still didn't understand. He couldn't shake the mantle of "Head Trainer", even when a slave was offering herself willingly. If he ever could envision her as an equal--and, without question, she was sure they were--he would have to remove his self-imposed blinders. He would have to look past their current circumstances and surroundings. It was only by pure chance that Shanti had encountered Tallon in this fashion, as a sex slave. As certain as she was that Ganesha granted one the power of rational thought, it was clear to her that had they met under different conditions, they would have become a formidable force, regarding each other with respect. There was no doubt in her mind that they were fated to meet in one way or another.

But how to make Tallon understand that?

His stormy mood had relented somewhat in the short time she'd been here massaging his tense muscles, coaxing his cock to life. He was obviously still morose over whatever encounter he had had previously in the day--someone had bruised his ego and, like a typical male, he was anxious to re-assert himself. If that was the case, now was not the time to point out his pig-headedness. She would have to rely on other means to make him understand. And she still needed him to want to keep her here, rather than forward her along to the Emperor. He was on a slippery slope towards treason by not doing so, and would most definitely be aware of it. Shanti would have to tread cautiously, but she was not without cleverness or skill.

Continuing to rub his swollen cock through his tunic, Shanti slid off of his lap, kneeling next to him on the luxurious pillows. She saw Tallon close his eyes and lean back into the pillows in anticipation. She unbuttoned his tunic with her left hand while stroking, rubbing him with her right. Softly, she spoke

"Tallon, you said to me when I arrived here tonight that you felt weak & complacent because you thought all you were good for was ordering around sex slaves--girls much weaker than you." She finally unbuttoned the last button, feeling his body tense with anger at her words for reminding him of his previous dark mood. His hand, still holding her hair, tightened threateningly. Before he could say anything or punish her for her insolence, she looked straight at him with lust-filled eyes. "Know now that you needn't have ordered me. Your desire fuels my own. I bring you pleasure because I wish to--from one kindred soul to another." Her eyes remained locked on his and she saw momentary confusion there. What a torment of confliction he must be in--his cock raging for attention, wanting her, but knowing all the while that he was committing treason by giving into the desire. And she was not about to change that.

Like a hungry tiger, she was upon him, her mouth taking him in, drawing him down her throat as her hands fondled and squeezed his balls. She continued to look up at him, watching the play of emotions across his face--confusion, conflict, and momentary fear were finally replaced by overwhelming desire as she continued to suck, lick, and tease.

 

[poohlive]

TO feel her skin upon his, that first trickle of true touch coming through him, running up his back like tendrils of sparks, deep set and invigorating. He could imagine a thousand storms, a million lightning strikes, all happening from this one woman.

He knew then he would do anything she wished... he would die for her, sister or not.

His cock pressed against her. It moved, shifted and now ran along her thigh. He felt it, felt the heat between her legs. Now that they were parted, and she pushed him in further with his heel, he could feel that wild heat which he could never endure. But, oh would he try...

He pushed her up against the wall, harder now, grabbing her other leg, letting it wrap around him as well. To part her, to spread her right here, up against the wall of her own drawning room. The doors closed but far from locked, anyone able to enter, anyone able to see. He didn't care, let them... let them come in. He would show them what it is truly like to make love.

His cock, needing only a slight guidance, a shift in position before it touched the entrance of her sex. That perfect parted opening with lips that already grabbed at his cock, pushing and guiding him along. He felt her drip down onto him, felt the pure fires that rforged within her.

One single hard stroke. He met her on the wall, his length imbedding into her with one go. To feel her cling onto him at once, her pussy grabbing hold, her arms tightening around him, her legs drawing him in, even her mouth tight where she kissed. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. He cried out, taking her, pushing her up against the wall, entering her for the first time.

His cock throbbed, hot, hard, deep inside of her. It pulsed with each heartbeat, it thrived on her pink walls clinging to him, massaging him, grabbing hold of him and refusing to let go.

"Oh God..." He could only manage certain words, in his native tongue, but they were followed by finding her lips, and suckling the sweet nectar from them.

He pushed into her again, deep and hard, another cry from his lips, muffled by her own.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Davis was the blaze burning in her blood, he was heat coursing through her veins, and he was the fire flickering on her skin. She could think of nothing but her desire for him and she knew there would be no cooling of the flames, only the deluge would extinguish them.

With a wordless murmur, Farsiris tossed her head and writhed against him as her body recognized the hard heat of his cock pressing to her thigh. She knew she was losing control but did not care; she could not hurt him. She would never hurt him; he was her prize. Burning, her body moved, wanting only to capture his flesh and hold it prisoner within her slick and ready cunt. She stretched her back, arching and dragging her tits across his chest, her nipples tightening with the rough contact and fueling her need for him.

Led by hands shaking with the raw lust; her arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders as he guided her other leg around him. Spread wide for him, the scent of her visceral need lifted in the warm air around them and she whimpered helplessly at the first touch of his cock to the open lips of her pussy. Without thought or control, she body moved, shifting to take him between those wet and swollen lips.

More, she needed more; she needed all of him inside her.

She cried out, as he answered her need and with a single forcing thrust, in an instant motion he powered his cock, hard and deep, into her. He took her and gave to her at the same time. The exquisite filling pleasure of him pressing against the walls of her tunnel stole the air from her lungs and for an eye-blinking moment all she could do was feel the throbbing fullness of him inside her while she struggled to remember how to breathe.

With a sharp gasp, her lungs filled with air, oxygen to fuel the fire. Her cunt squeezed around his cock, pulsing and holding him within her. Pushed into the wall, there was no place for her to go; all she could was hold on to him. Her legs pulled him harder into her; her neck arched, pressing her head to the wall, grinding her pussy against him and his cock deeper into her.

"Oh God..." His words were meaningless to a mind in such a primal state only her body could respond to the echoing need in his voice. His mouths found hers, and she gave to him, as her tongue danced a fiery trail across his lips. Her nails drove into his back as she tried to keep him from pulling away but lips muffled matched cries of frantic pleasure as he rutted into her again.

“Yes…” she moaned into his mouth. Yes was all she could think of. Yes, this was what she wanted. Yes, she wanted more.

 

[poohlive]

Oh there it was. She moved around him, she moved with him, she moved against him. She moved to help him push deep inside, but then writhed for her own pleasure. His cock twitched and pulsed and ran freely and pounded into her. She released it, teasing, kissing him on the lips, pulling back.

His body forced her into the wall. He pushed with such force, feeling the paintings come askew, something fell to the floor, breaking. He groaned aloud from her touch. Why did she move like this? No one moved, no one ran with passion. So many women lied there, endured his strength, cried out each time they came.

A woman to do this, to fuck like a man, to move and accept and ride him like waves crashing upon the sand.

He grunted now. His hands went around her ass, fingers gripping into her. He held her there, pounding her now. He grunted each time, rising in crescendo as he drilled into her core. His cries ran from near anger to ecstacy, louder and louder each time. Unpredictable, undeniable, hard and fast, low and dirty. There was no rhythm, only pleasure.

His body tight, rigid, unfeeling, his legs pistoning his cock into her. A well oiled machine, everything working up, owning to this one moment.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

She could not stop; she did not want to, she would not try. There was no control; there were no thoughts. There was nothing but the feel of him driving into her as each powerful thrust pushed air from her lungs with a sharp animal grunt. She felt him, alive inside her, the pounding of his heart beating into her into her and echoing the hammering of her own.

He escaped from within her even as she tried to hold him tighter, only to return to her, filling her cunt again. Her mouth blazed a hot trail across his skin, tasting the salt of his flesh, but going back, searching again for his lips, desperate to quench her thirst for him.

Held against the wall, pinned by his strength, she writhed against him, dragging her flesh across his; she explored his skin with her own. There was nothing to her but the feel of him, the feel of his cock inside her pushing out as she pulled him in, the feel of his power as she tried to contain it.

As if on cue or by some secret primal design, his hands seized her, holding her when she could no longer hold herself. His strong fingers gripping her ass with bruising strength as her arms left his neck to grasps vainly at the wall over her head. She pounded the wall with her fist in time with the rhythm of his beating drives, and drowned his cries with her own.

The deluge, the flood to extinguish her fire, washed over her with such energy that at first it seemed to ignite not soothe. She screamed the fierce cry of an animal as her arms legs held him in her cunt. The walls of her fiery tunnel pulsed and clutched, teasing around him, daring him to join her, demanding he come with her.

 

[poohlive]

Nothing could be denied, ever again. Not after such a touch, soft and hard at the same time. In a better mindset, in a clarity that would never hold him as he fucked her good and hard against the wall, he might thought of her actions as both masculine and femine, both dominant and submissive.

All he could do was hold on, however, and wonder just how incredible she really was. He pounded her, lifting her up. Her entire body slammed against the back wall. He could feel the wall cracking, the plaster falling, books on the shelves scattering about. He screamed each time, pushing her further, guiding them both to the withering heights above.

She clamped onto him, deep inside, refusing to let go. A hardened grunt escaped him. He didn't want to stop, he didn't want her to control his own orgasm. She had though, she gripped him and helped him, making his cock feel that exquisite fit one can only feel coupled with another.

He let out his cry of passion, as his cock imbedded itself fully, giving her what her cunt asked for. Seed poured from him in gallons, filling her, capping her, drowning her in as much as she wished.

By the time he finished, tight and rigid against her, his entire body one muscle of pleasure, he had lost his footing. They both slowly fell to the ground, cuddling in each other's bodies.

He could do nothing but try to breath, nothing but catch his own strength. It had never been like that before, never come close. His entire sex life had been nothing more than a wet dream compared to this moment.

And in that extremity, his lips found hers in thanks.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Cracking plaster, falling books, breaking glass, meant nothing to Farsiris; if the palace had collapsed around them, if an army marched into the room, she would not have noticed. The near oblivion of her ascent left her aware of nothing but Davis. She heard nothing but the sound of his passion, the cry of his release. It surged through her, submerging the sounds of her cries, drowning the pounding of her heart, and like a wave, it pushed her harder and deeper into the throws of her oblivion. At last, he gave in to desperate pleas of her burning flesh. At last, he submitted to her body’s fiery demands. At last, she felt the liquid heat of him rush into her, joining the raging torrent of her rapturous release. At last, he started to douse the fire he enflamed.

With one final effort, the last of her strength she spent on him. She threw her arms around him and held him tightly, her fingers pressed into the hard muscles of his back as she stretched and tensed round him, needing everything he would give her. To the end, she would try to have all of him, she would take all of him, and as long as she had the strength to hold him, she would not allow him to escape from her.

Her fire was her power and as he quenched her blaze, he stole her strength. Her delicate limbs were made shaky by exhaustion, and force of will alone that enabled her to cling to him as they slid to the floor. She was sated, her fire banked to a warm comfortable ember that always burned within her.

She rested her head against his chest as she experienced a moment of perfect lethargy but stirred as his lips sought hers. Soft and yielding as their lips met, her body trembled.

“You are a man of rare passion, I was right to think you would match my own.” She tries to pull away but is too weak to move. There is a smile in her voice and it lightly touches her lips. “I am a small, frail woman, Davis. Are you strong enough to carry me or must I wait for my bath?”

 

[poohlive]

The Norseman held her to him, loving this feeling of afterglow. It felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. One night he had three different women, one after the other. At the end of the night he felt tired and happy like this, but not the connection. The connection between them made all the difference. It was not for his own pleasure he felt so good, it was for them both.

"A bath?" He sighed, looking down at her. She didn't need a shower, she needed him once more. One more time to take her. He might have done it too, if he thought either of them could handle it.

Instead, he scooped her into his arms, and got up. His strength never faltered, it could not. It would always be there, always be waiting for him. one of the constant's in his life.

He carried her, both of them naked, through the doors, through hallways and corridors. At one point one of the serving girl's nearly dropped a tray of food. There was no notice of her though.

The room opened to him, wonderful lavender and soft rose smell came through. It was the smell of her, although not now. Now her smell was dirtier, a cross between faint perfume and sex.

The water was clear, hot, and covered in rose petals. He slowledy eased her into it, letting the water take her over.

"There you are, My countess," He kissed her. A soft lovely little kiss that seemed to stimulate him as much as anything else.

"Is there anything else you need?"

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

"A bath?” He questioned and Farsiris looked up at him nodding her head, her request surprised her too but as she thought about it, she realized the idea of remaining in his arms pleased her. She knew he used her body well but for all the wild pleasure he gave her there would be a price to pay with bruised skin and aching muscles. Without a bath, she would be sore and her muscles would stiffen, perhaps even be too painful to move. She needed her slaves to tend to her; she needed a bath if she was to have him again.

She wanted him again. Soon.

He had not only physical strength but endurance as well and she coiled her arms around him as he lifted her from the ground. Despite his exertions, he carried her weight with ease, as if it was nothing, but he carried her gently, using his strength carefully, as if she was fragile and easily broken.

She had allowed no one to carry her for many years; she fought against grasping hands and she resisted being taken anywhere against her will. Only in childhood memories did she not struggle against the strong arms that lifted her from the ground, only then and only now. She closed her eyes and leaned against him. Relaxed into the strength of his arms, she allowed him to carry her down the halls to her bath. She knew the slaves would see them together, naked and flushed; there could be no mistaking their recent activities. They looked and smelled of sex but Farsiris did not care who saw, or who knew.

She did not open her eyes until she smelled the lavender and rose of her bath, until she felt the warm humid air on her bare skin. She eased her arms from around him as he lowered her into the warm, scented water but her hands lingered on his arms, and her fingers played along his skin testing the hard muscles that lay beneath.

"There you are, My countess," he said before his lips touched her with a soft kiss. The water was warm against her skin, but his lips were warmer and as the water relaxed her, his kiss stirred her.

"Is there anything else you need?"

She was unwilling to release him completely; her hand smoothly ran down his arm until she caught his hand in her long, graceful fingers.

“Stay with me. I will need you.” She leaned back in the bath and closed her eyes. Slaves approached to wash her, soft music played in the background, and she relaxed as experienced hands relieved her sore body but her grasp of Davis’ hand did not loosen. Even as she nearly slept, she held on to what was hers.

 

[poohlive]

He almost thought to get in the bath with her, let them both bathe in the warm water. He didn't though, he couldn't. This was her bath, her treat, something she needed. He smiled, watching these servants dote upon her, watching her entire body be cleaned and prepped, ready for him once more.

That is why she was doing this, to heal and rest. She wanted him again. That soft squeeze of her hand ever so often from time to time helped him to understand.

It wasn't until the cleaning was done, and they left her to sleep in the soft water alone with him that he brushed her lips with his own. She seemed to stir only slightly. Somewhere she had this wonderful dream, and he didn't want to wake her from it.

"I am here Countess," He kissed down to her neck, loving thse soft skin, wonderfully wet and warm now, "Come back to me... if you will."

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Any day that included a visit from her brother was bound to be exhausting for the flame-haired beauty and the unusually vicious encounter of that morning should have troubled her sleep like none of their previous fights but Farsiris slept easily. Her body strained by the fervent coupling with Davis, was relieved by the tender ministration of her slaves and soothed by the warm water of her bath. Although her fair skin bore the mark of their uncompromising union in little bruises imprinted on her flesh by strong fingers, and her soft lips retained the subtle fullness left behind by passionate kisses, the Countess smiled lazily in her sleep.

She had been limp, almost lifeless in the hands of her slaves. They moved her as if she was a doll while they cared for her. They brushed out her hair until it hung in glorious curls down the back of the tub; they washed her with scented soap, massaged her worn muscles, and covered her skin with fragrant oil. Even as their hands moved over her full breasts and her private and most tender parts she did not stir. Only the gentle rise then fall of her chest and the soft grasp of her fingers around Davis’ hand gave proof that the weary noblewoman still lived.

Eventually, the other slaves left and only Davis remained with her as she dreamed. Women who have nothing dream of jewelry made of gold and precious gems, they dream of stunning gowns and elegant surroundings, they dream of lounging instead of toiling, they dream of a beautiful life to replace their harsh reality. Farsiris had those things, she had more then she ever dreamed of possessing, so she dreamed of the things she looked for but never found, she dreamed of feeling safe and of being protected.

She barely stirred as Davis’ lips swept softly against hers, she hardly moved except for the imperceptible parting of her lips.

"I am here Countess. Come back to me... if you will."

His words barely penetrated her mind, but her body responded to his kisses, to his voice, to the soft pressing of his warm lips to her neck. As she rocked slightly in the tub, her hand tightened around his and her head rolled to the side exposing more of her neck to his mouth.

“Davis…” Her voice was low and soft, and like a contented cat, she purred his name. With a gentle tug, she sleepily pulled at his hand, “Join me. I want to feel you around me as I sleep.”

 

[poohlive]

"As you wish," He helped her to move forward, ever slightly inside of the tub. She felt so weak, so soft, but so perfect at the same time. He wasted no time, his movements graceful and dexterous. Slipping into the tub behind her, he helped her back to lie on his chest.

Her head rested upon him, some pillow for her. He didn't know if it was comfortable for her, his bounding muscles were wonderful to see, but he didn't imagine them as good to hold against, or cuddle up to. She didn't have any problem resting on him though.

His legs entangled hers in the water. The perfect feel of her leg sliding alongside his sent simple shivers up his spine. He kissed her for that, for every wonderful feeling she gave him. She deserved those kisses, and more.

"Here I am, around you," He let both of his arms cross her, holding her. So gentle was his touch, he dared not do anything more than lightly caress her flawless skin.

"Just sleep... sleep for me Countess. I will be here when you wake. I will always be here."

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

"As you wish."

As he rose she started to move to give him room in the tub, but before she could even decide how best to do it, he was shifting her and sliding agilely into the tub behind her. Her comfortable position disturbed, she thought she might slip beneath the water and reached to grab the rim of the tub but his hands pulled her back to rest against his chest and her hand found his warm skin instead of the cold marble.

His body was hard; not pillow-soft but unlike a pillow, she leaned against something vibrant and alive, and the beat of his heart against her skin brought its own comfort to her. She could sense his strength, she sensed it all around her, and she could even feel it in the gentle kisses he laid upon her skin. It was in the muscles of his legs as they pressed against her hips and entwined with her limbs, it was in the muscles of his stomach and chest as he breathed against her back and it was in the warmth of his breath as it flowed against her skin.

"Here I am, around you." She felt the comfort of his arms crossing over her chest. She moved; her body shifting with his gentle touch, safe in his arms she relaxed against him, trusting his arms would not let her slide away.

"Just sleep... sleep for me Countess. I will be here when you wake. I will always be here."

Farsiris fell asleep in his arms, her dreams were meaningless, and in them, there was nothing but the feel of his body next hers. She stirred as she slumbered, her hands found his skin and she stroked him as she slept. The deep slow breaths of her sleep quickened with her body’s unconscious arousal.

 

[poohlive]

It felt wonderful to have her next to him like this. He didn't know why. Often he slept alone, often he liked to sleep alone. Someone beside him ruffled his feathers the wrong way, disturbed him, made him feel uncomfortable and on edge.

She didn't. She cuddled up next to him and the world melted away. It was just them togehter like this. He enjoyed it, and he wanted her to sleep, to rest. She needed it. Even her breathing was wonderful, to hear it, feel it against his skin.

It was deep and low, but rised when she touched him. He saw it, her fingers trailing his skin, and her breath catch. Her body moved, did she know she was aroused, did she understand, or was she still folded within the blankets of sleep, unaware of what her body was doing.

He wondered if she could stay there. How long could she be surrounded by her dreams and fantasies, while her body was enthralled. It excited him to think of such naughty things.

He had never done this before. He never touched a woman so softly. His hand ran down her stomach, down into the warm water. It stopped just at the entrance of her sex. He felt her throbbing, her legs moving to part. Was it for him, because of the touch, or just a movement?

He didn't know. In some ways he didn't want to know. His hand touched against her clit. It was there for him, open and raw. The hood pushed back, the clit perfect, standing tall, waiting for his touch. He felt her quake when he did make contact. Such a perfect shudder, she sighed against him.

The touch electrified him as well. He could feel her whole body reacting. She was still asleep, she could still be asleep. He loved it, moving further. His finger, so soft, so delicate pushing inside of her. Those warm folds of pink just took him in. There was no resistance, he slid in. The heat grasping him, her sex guiding him.

His own skin tingled with excitement. He had never done this before, never touched a woman like this, never tried to please her this way. For him, it was all about taking, even before when he wanted to please her, he just took from her. He took it good and hard. This... this was unlike anything he'd ever done before. And he loved it, he loved every second of it.

The wonderfulness of her touch, the naughty part of her not knowing, the full flush of her body reacting to him.

He loved every part.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Farsiris seldom remembered her dreams but those few she recalled were rarely peaceful. In them she was alone and continued her struggles against a society of males intent on keeping women in their ‘proper places’ but in them she always lost and found herself at the mercy of another cruel husband. In her dreams, she continued to try to understand her brother but failed even the world of her own imagination. In her dreams, as in her waking hours she sought to control or command everything around her, in an attempt of be safe and remain unhurt.

In her dreams, in her nightmares, she lived the failures that spurred her on and they kept her strong, they reminded her how precarious her position was and how dangerous it is to want to be different. Her nightmares allowed for no surrender, they forced her to see her fears and defeat them.

Now her dream was soft and warm, it hinted of safety, of thinly veiled pleasure and subtle desire. The vague thoughts that flowed into mind floated away untouched as she let them go without interest.

A soft pleasure filled her usually fierce and rough dreams. An elusive fantasy led a trail of delicate warmth down her belly and brought the rise of little shivers across her skin. Slowly her legs parted, not hesitantly or with reluctance, but moved by relaxed expectancy, motivated by her body’s desire.

The warm trail moved lower, between her opened legs and reached her most sensitive spot. A soft touch and she trembled, her body making gentle waves in the water as it shook. She heard the sigh that came from her lips but a sound so soft, alive with such contentment must have come from someone else. It was not her; she was not so docile. Whatever the pleasure, her mind would have required that she resist, that she seize not accept, that she claim for herself not yield of herself. There was nothing for her to demand, she could not take or control as the smooth trail of physical delight led inside her, entering her then spreading through her body. Her head turned, pressing her cheek to his chest, her lips moving in a wordless pull against his warm skin. She stirred the fragrant water as she moved, safe in her dream of unfamiliar pleasure her body responded to the gentle insertion, her hips languidly shifting to accept the push of his finger. Her legs slid along his, soft fair skin rubbed against hard tan muscle. Her hand lifted, and then it faltered in the air before she brushed her cheek with its back. Her fingers rested against her lips before they parted and she took one of them it to her mouth with a quiet whimper.

Farsiris’ mind continued to dream an accompanying fantasy while she answered to his touch, her breath rising with her arousal, and her body’s desire control by him.

 

[poohlive]

The way his fingers touched, it was as if for the first time. They wandered across her flesh with wild and bahsful curiousity, found in eager lovers and young virgins. The Norseman had been neither in a long time, but with her soft body caught between sleep and pleasure, it felt right.

She felt right.

Inside her pussy grabbed him. The walls clinging to his fingers as he pushed inside. They were eager, decisive. When he touched, and found such soft curves within her, his touch was light and delicate. She ground her hips against him though, this soft moving which caused ripples in the water. He let his other arm come around her, to hold her still against his frame.

Her heart nestled so close to his, he could feel the rush of its beat. It pattered within her chest, as her body arced against him. He felt the rush of air onto his skin, her crimson lips trying to cry out. Pleasure, frustration, some dream of both, he did not know.

He hoped he could find out. He bent down, his lips brushing hers. He wanted to feel her stirring her simple reaction, even her desire. She was so tired though, could she even do any of this? Was he being mean, didn't she deserve her rest?

She did, but he could not stop. His fascination with her body had gone too far. He wanted to keep going, see what she would do, how it could continue. His hand brushed against her clit. He felt it, such a tiny nub of hardness against nothing but soft delicate folds.

He touched it again, purposefully this time. Again, and again, his fingers rubbing into her sex, feeling for her reaction, wanting the cry from her lips to be his name.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

It was the perfect dream not even in her girlish fantasies she had ever imagined such an idyllic world. Quiet music played behind the lulling sound of a softly moving breeze and gently moving water. A soothing blanket of warmth enveloped her skin while delicate tendrils cast heady wisps of pleasure over her flesh. A tender embrace held her safe and a strong heart beat with her own. In her dream, Farsiris heard her own serene murmurs in response to delicate but insistent touch, to a warm and filling pleasure. She drifted in the hazy world between sleeping and waking and she knew it was only a dream.

If my eyes open, I will wake and the dream will end. If my eyes open, this tranquil world will end and the harsher reality will return to me.

She relaxed it the delight of her imagined fantasy. She did not question the strong arm that held her, but she gratefully accepted its security. She did not question the hand that pleasured her, but she was hopeful that it continued.

As the pleasure intensified, reality and wakefulness tried to worm their way into the mind but she held them at bay. However, some knowledge was inescapable. It was him. Her sleepy mind knew the feel of his hand, his touch, his caress, his protection. She responded to his touch, the soft grazing of his hand against her clit with the indistinct murmur of his name.

His fingers grew more insistent, allowing her no escape from their attentions, demanding her throbbing clit and her tender sex to accept the pleasure he gave. The spiraling pleasure pulled instinctive reactions from her body, her legs locked around his anchoring her to him as she flexed her hips and pushed into his hand. Her nipples hardened to aching fullness, as her muscles tensed and clutched their empty grasp. Her arm rose over her head to reach around his neck, and feeling his hardness beneath her hand she knew she was awake.

She would not open her eyes. If she could not have the dream, she would maintain the fantasy. She would hold on to the illusion of tenderness and security, she would imagine a lover not a conquest or a conqueror.

When her release came, it flowed from the place inside her where mind and body joined. Deeply intense but not wild and uncontrolled, he controlled it. She pulled his head down to her lips and filled his ear with her soft deep moans. She trembled as the pleasure pushed subtle quakes coursing through her. It was his gift to her but she had nothing to offer in return except acknowledgement of his generosity. Her wordless moans turned to soft cries as she called out his name…

“Davis… oh… yes… Davis.”

 

[poohlive]

He held her, so soft and small in his arms. After her explosion she seemed to curl up, wrapping herself around him in the bath. He explored the feeling of her caressing him, the mewling cries, inexcapable pleasure washing over her. Every touch sensual, erotic, every word a tremble on his skin.

He'd never felt that before, never felt any of it. It seemed so wonderful, he couldn't wait to do it again, and again.

"Countess," He whispered, "Dinner is waiting for you. You must eat to keep up your strength."

And, it would be late. She would need to sleep as well. He wondered if she had a place for him, some soft lay out at the foot of her bed, complete with little pillows and blankets to complete his humiliation.

But, he would take it. Whatever she offered. If she wished him to change his name and wear a collar and bow down each time she asked, he would.