The Emperor's Pleasure

Farsiris

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

“Hmm…” Farsiris stirred and began the slow languorous uncurling of her body. Each motion was slow and graceful; a silent dance as she extended her limbs, arched her back, and stretched her muscles in ritualistic precision. With a deep, contented sigh, she rose to her feet and stepped from the tub. She picked a heavy towel from a nearby table, and though she briefly wondered where the other slaves had gone, she began to pat her skin dry.

“Davis, I am far more concerned about you keeping up your strength.” As she speaks, the slaves hurriedly return to the bath and resume their duties. She stands still as they finish drying her and then cover skin with silken lotion scented of roses. Although their hands miss no part of her body, she behaves as if they do not exist, as if she is unaware of their soft caresses.

Her eyes barely leave Davis as the other slaves cover her with a fresh silk robe and she sits to have her hair arranged. As evidence of her preoccupation, she fails to slap her had at the slave who accidentally pulled her hair. Instead, her emerald eyes shine with speculation as she considers her new toy.

“I slept well with you, my pet. When not aroused in a passion you have a quiet manner that is soothing and restful.” That she had felt safe, even protected, she would not admit to him, she could barely acknowledge it to herself and tried to justify it as part of the situation’s novelty.

It will not be the same in the future, the next time I will kick him to the floor as I kicked the others.

“Yes, I slept well with you and I found your method of awakening most enjoyable.” She hides the smile the memory tries to bring to her lips but she cannot disguise the spark in her eyes. “I think I will keep you with me, you shall sleep in my room.” She nods to herself, “Besan will arrange it.”

A quiet murmur of surprise passed through the other slaves, the Countess never allowed anyone to sleep in her room. Even her lovers were usually removed when she had finished with them. To sleep in the lord or lady’s chamber was an honor, a sign of status among slaves that Farsiris had never bestowed on any of hers.

“Now, my Davis, as a reward, I give you a choice. You may take your dinner in the kitchen with the slaves, or you may dine with me. At my feet, and I will feed you, my pet.”

A small smile breaks free and dances on her lips as she speaks but she quickly sits back in her chair and closes her eyes before he has a chance to speak. The decision is his, and afraid of what his face will show, she will not watch while he makes it.
 
For a moment he had forgotten what they were. Those strict orders coming from her, a decision to let her sleep in his room. Everyone else gasped as if this were unheard of, but he thought it sounded so cheap, so useless of everything they had done together.

And then her choice, a choice to sit at her feet? He furrowed his brow, happy she had turned away at least for a moment. The strength in his arms, his body were useless, they gave him nothing here. He didn't know what to do.

She would want him at her side, she would want him in her chamber.

"It would be my honor," He said, trying to sound as pleased as he could, "To dine with my lady. If you please."

He got out of the bath, a towel waiting for him. Unlike hers it was old, and tough. It felt rough against his skin as he dried it. A slave handed him some clothing. Not his clothing from the other room, the ones he had shed in passion, but livery picked out for him. He saw the tailoring, someone had taken it out so it would fit.

House colors, she had said. She wanted him dawned in it, parading around for her. He had forgotten, within the heat of everything that he was nothing more than a show pony.

He wore the clothing. Another slave brought him a collar. He actually did feel himself wince when he looked at it. Not made of ordinary leather, it was black. Fine thick fabric, elegant. It looked like something she would wear, not himself.

Still, he bowed his head. It was so hard to move himself down, keeping still as the thing latched around his neck. Some humility left him. Everything else had been a show, but this encircled him. He could feel this at all times. The slave putting it on made sure it was tight across his neck.

When he finally reached the dining room, he looked exactly how she wished for him to look. The slaves had stayed behind, combing his hair, putting soft fragrences on his skin. He had never been through such uncomfortable hell before.

He slowly slid to his knees in front of her. The last and final act. In his mind he knew he wasn't being forced. He was doing this for his own sake, he was doing this for her. So he could touch her again, so he could explore her soft skin once more.

His sister hadn't crossed his mind, until he saw her coming out, with food for the countess. She gave him only one glance, before looking away. Perhaps she felt ashamed of what he had become. It didn't matter.

Kneeling on the floor he still almost came up to her standing, so he leaned back as low as he could. His hands on the ground, head down right next to her feet, nestling it like some loyal dog begging for scraps at the table.
 
Farsiris

Farsiris cut dainty little pieces from the food on her plate and fed them to him with her fingers. She gave him the choicest slices of the roast, her eyes barely leaving his mouth as he took the food from her. Concerned that the giant of a man have enough, she had yet to eat any herself.

“No….” she murmured to herself, her eyes still on him.

“It’s a beautiful collar, Davis.” She brushed his cheek with an empty hand. “I thought since you are so beautiful, it would suit.” She slid her fingers behind his ear, playing for moment at that soft line where his strong neck met his golden hair. She brought her hand down to his collar and tried to slip a little finger inside it, but her eyes narrowed with anger when she saw how tightly they had placed it around his neck.

“I don’t like it; the harsh cold steel of the trader’s collar suited you better than this.” She leaned closed to him and reached around his neck with both hands, her fingers fumbled, brushing his skin as she tried to unlatch the collar. “The law says you must wear one. In here it doesn’t matter but if you are seen outside without one you will be punished so I must find you another.”

With nearly a sigh of relief, she finally unlatched the collar, and carelessly tossed it over her shoulder. She did not notice that a waiting slave had to dash to avoid being hit by it as it sailed towards his head. It was off Davis, nothing else mattered to her. She had the freedom to run her fingers down his neck, over her favorite spot, that curve where his neck blended into his shoulder, and across his shoulders. Feeling him under her hand, she had to fight down the urge bury her face in that spot.

She pulled her hands away from him and sat back in her seat. She looked at him and really saw him, Davis, not her pet, for the first time since he knelt beside her. Earlier, she had loved the sight of him at her feet, the look in his eyes as they looked up into hers but this was no the same but she wanted this; she loved the feeling of power over him …

In a flash she was on her feet, knocking over her chair as she jumped up. She grabbed him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she pulled at him.

“Get up!” She pulled again.

“Get up and get out of here!” The flecks of gold in her emerald eyes flared and she drew deep heavy breaths driven by her sudden and wild rage. Her strength was not enough to move him. His strength, his weight, made him like a solid rock beneath her hands.

“Go! Leave me!” She pushed at him one last before turning away, hiding her tears of rage and confusion.
 
"Hey... hey," He stared at her, wildness in her eyes. He had seen that on the battlefield, a dangerous look. He didn't know what it meant here, with her, or why she placed that look upon him.

He had done everything she asked. He laid here for her, he became her showpony. She wished him to parade around, and he did just that.

He grabbed her, feeling her still fight. The soft punches against him, her pushing away. None of it mattered, it was like the wind against him, little more. Still, when he hugged her he didn't hurt, didn't use too much force.

His head moved to one side, touching hers, allowing her to find that soft spot on his shoulders she liked soo much.

"Stop... stop," His words not commands, not harsh. They were soft, gentle next to her ear, "My lady please stop. Do not hurt yourself. I am here, I am on the ground for you, I eat from your scraps, I wear your clothing, your collar. I have done everything you want, I am everything you wanted me to be, why do you do such things now?"

Did she not want this, had she expected him to fight more, put up more resistance? Had she wanted someone to whip and tie and flog and punish to no end. It didn't seem so, the gentleness with her, the desire in her eyes. Had she truly wanted to punish him, she could have done so a dozen times over.

"Do you really wish me to leave, My lady?"
 
Farsiris

Her secrets were her own, she would share them with no one, not even him, but it was too easy to stay wrapped in his arms. While her clenched fists pushed against him, trying to drive him away, her lips tasted the warm flesh of his shoulder. She could not pull away; all she could do was turn her head tearing her lips from the taste of his skin.

Her fist pounded his shoulder again but she swallowed the scream of frustrated rage that pressed at her lips. Caught between what she thought she wanted and what she thought was right, she could only feel cheated.

The sight of him on his knees at the table had left a bitter taste in her mouth but it had excited her as well. Humiliation, she had endured it her entire married life but never with such strength and grace as he had shown. He had done nothing to deserve that treatment at her hands, yet he accepted it. She saw her mistake had been in giving him the choice, now she was bound to it. However, she must, and she would accept the consequences of her misjudgment with good grace; she knew she owed him that.

Her hands relaxed for a moment before she slipped an arm around his neck. Still, she does not trust herself to turn her head. She spoke into chest while feeling his heart beat against her cheek.

“No, Davis. I do not wish you to leave. I want you with me always.” Her voice thickened with desire. She reached for a piece of succulent fruit and turned to watch his mouth as she pressed it to his lips. “Always with me, my pet, at my feet, at my back, beneath me, atop me, inside me, and for being such a treasure I will think of a special treat just for you.”

She pushed a kiss onto is juice-covered lips, “After dinner.”
 
"I do not need any treats.. only you," she tasted as sweet as the fruit, juicy and plump in his mouth. He nuzzled into her neck, finding the spot that made her shiver and licked it. The feeling of her quaking around him, his arms encasing her, the whole of her body just standing to torrent as he encompassed her.

"I will follow all of your orders," He spoke, even with such a soft voice he still rumbled within his chest. He could feel it, vibrate on her skin. He kissed her softly, to calm those little quakes within her.

"Except when you tell me to leave. That is the only order I will refuse."

He stood, helping her to stand, holding her hand. Even her hand seemed so petite encompaseed in his own. Her fingers lithe and slender as they webbed through his.

He guided her to her seat, the high stern back, sitting her down. Then once more his impressive frame moved to kneel beside her. He lowered himself as much as possible, submitting.

Even though he did though, still his hand held hers, still he squeezed it enough so she could feel.

"Finish your meal my Lady, and then you can finish me..."
 
Farsiris

"I do not need any treats... only you."

“I will find a way to reward you, my treasure.” She trembled in his arms as she realized all of the treats that she can think to give him would be treats for her as well. “You will not refuse my treats, Davis.” Her voice takes on a sharper edge, and the anger that was passing sends a fresh quake through her.

"I will follow all of your orders." His words, spoken softly and deeply, pushed through her and danced across her skin like a teasing touch. Followed by a soft calming kiss, his touch soon overwhelmed the angry quakes she could not control and they faded to a mild quivering.

"Except when you tell me to leave. That is the only order I will refuse." She waits for her anger to rise at the challenge to her will, she waits but it does not come, instead a little smile plays across her face, touching her lips and settling with a twinkle in her eyes. She met his insolence with silence, as if she never heard it. She would wait, allow him a verbal liberty, and let him speak his mind, a small benefit of his favored status. Could I punish him if I needed to? She asked the question of herself but already knew the answer. In her wrath, she was capable of anything.

She waved a fair hand; he seemed to understand the gesture and rose to his feet. For a moment, she knelt at his feet, waiting for his hands to help her rise. A fire flashed in her eyes as she slipped her hand into his. She felt it again, as he guided her to her seat, safe. Protected. She expected it to pass as he knelt by her side, but it did not. That he was close was enough, and knowing that, she wondered how she would ever let him out of her sight. Perhaps, it was the fact that as she fed him with one hand he held the other wrapped in his strong rough hand.

"Finish your meal my Lady, and then you can finish me..."

She looked at him as was struck again by his masculine beauty, his smooth skin over long bones and heavy muscles, his golden hair and deep eyes… even on his knees… everything about him spoke of power and strength. In her eyes, he was truly beautiful.

“My pet, there will be no finish for you, merely the occasional respite. You may visit your sister after dinner, while I see to some business.” She pulls her hand from his to brush the back of it against his cheek while she smiles, “After that, I think I will make an early night and retire. Of course, it’s your duty to come with me.”
 
"Of course, my Lady."

She finished her meal. He stayed quiet, watching her in a solemness that made him look as if he were reading a book instead of watching her eat. He wondered what sort of business she had to attend to. As far as he knew she was royalty, and had no other business than to make conversation at parties.

It might have something to do with her brother, or perhaps the treat she wished him to have.

With dinner finished, he retreated to the kitchen, watching as maids and servants began cleaning up. His sister looked him up and down. He saw she had been dressed in a similar fashion, the same colors in her livery.

"I see it didn't take too long," Her voice was soft, hushed, but filled with curse. His eyes grew narrow, but he said nothing.

"They're all talking about you, you know? They say you're the largest whore they've ever seen."

They would talk, and they would get those ideas into his sister's head. He pursed his lips, watching the other servants work back and forth.

"We can escape, I've found a way," She spoke native tongue, the low drone of vowles different than the language heard here. One could tell they were speaking something different, but no one noticed.

"Sasha, one of the seamstresses here. She knows a way out. We could both go."

He shook his head, "No."

She took his arm, "This is our chance to escape. Both of us. They said you stayed here for me... you took her to bed because of me. There is no more need for that now. We can both go, don't you see?"

He just shook his head once more.

"I see, so you are her whore then? It doesn't matter, so long as you see her again."

"I have to go, I will come back when I can," He left her there, in the kitchens, shouting off words in their native tongue she knew he would understand. They stung, each one coming from a woman he loved, one he would do anything for.

He stood in front of the Lady's doorway, where he was supposed to be, waiting for her business to be done with. His head was down, but his eyes remained lively, looking, searching for her.
 
Farsris

When Farsiris told her brother Tallon that she had earned everything her husband bequeathed on her back, on her belly and on her knees, she meant it. What she did not mentioned was that she kept his fortune by using her head and with diligence she had seen the modest fortune he left to her grow substantially. Few outside her own estates knew the effort she put into maintaining and growing her wealth.

She sat at an elegant desk, with a beautiful writing tool poised against her lip. Wearing a green velvet robe that matched the emerald of her eyes and her fiery hair arranged in falling curls trailing down her neck, she looked more like a lady composing a letter to her lover than a serious woman contemplating the best way to tell her estate manager that he is a fool. Ultimately, being Farsiris, she decides on the direct approach and in her small neat handwriting she sets down exactly what he will do, how he will do it and what will happen to him if he doesn’t do it.

She put down the pen and sat back in her chair, a graceful hand toyed idly with a curl that coiled on her bare shoulder. She had dealt with the pressing matters; she had drawn her mind away from Davis every time she found herself thinking of him. She forced herself to do what she must; now only petty little details remained. They could wait. She had other things to think about.

Jennifer. Farsiris hoped the time Davis spent with his sister was pleasant. Would the Viking girl be happier on a country estate, she wondered, life in the palace was not for everyone. No, Davis will want her close, to be certain I am keeping my word.

A collar. Davis did need one. Without a collar, he could not stray out of her quarters or beyond the boundaries of her garden without the possibility of being mistaken for a runaway slave. Her delicate body shuddered at the thought of the punishment the law of Emperor imposed on slaves who tried to escape, before returning them to their master – if they survived.

She heard him at the doorway and a smile lit her pensive face, it brought the color back to her cheeks and returned the gleam to her eyes. She let him stand there, waiting, “Davis, come in.”

She had reined in her smile, instead of the wide grin of excitement it a softer smile had settled on her features as she turned to watch him enter the room. Her eyes drank him in as he moved. His grace, his control, his strength, the warrior knew his body and how to make it serve him. Now, it was hers and she would know it just as well.

“Davis, you will have a collar.” She stood, moving close to him, her breasts grazing against his chest only as she inhaled. She raised her hands and placed them around his neck, even together they could not encircle it. “But you will not wear it in my apartments; I want nothing to stop me from feeling you when I choose.” I could keep you naked and chained to my bed; she teased herself with the idea as she slid one hand down his chest and drew light invisible circles with her finger. “I like the feel of you beneath the silk, so hard under material so soft.” Her finger teased his nipple through the smooth, cling of the silk and she felt her own tighten.

"The livery will stay, for now."
 
"As you wish, my Lady," He tightened when he felt her finger dance across his chest. The soft touch enthralled him, he looked down at her, but when a moan escaped his lips he couldn't keep eye contact. Instead his eyes wandered to where they may, leaving his body behind for her to do with as she pleased.

"Do you still wish a collar upon me?" His voice cautious, curious, unsure. He spoke like no other in this voice. He'd heard people speak it to him, many times, but this is the first time it came through his throat, "You have no threat of me running, leaving your side. Do you still wish to see a collar around my neck?"

What kind of collar, she did not enjoy the leather bound tight for no room. Would she have one of steel next, loose enough so it hung like jewelry from him. She might adorn it in her fashion, jewelry or something else. It would certainly match the silken wardrobe, and it would match her.

But, it would not match him.

He leaned into her, his body pressing up against hers, feeling how soft, how small she was. For a moment he wanted to take her once more, just rough and hard up against the wall. A soft growl rose in his throat, his muscles tightened, waiting, eager to do just that.

He caught her scent, sweet and fresh from the baths, her robe hanging open just so, revealing everything to him, and her smile which danced lightly along her face.
It took everything he had not to just rip the clothing and take her once more.
 
Farsiris

"Do you still wish a collar upon me?"

“You will wear a collar, my pet, when you leave my quarters. I will not risk losing you to the law.” She heard uncertainty in his voice, and countered it with confidence; in this, she is certain she is right. She cannot risk losing him.

"You have no threat of me running, leaving your side. Do you still wish to see a collar around my neck?"

She patiently exhaled a soft breath as she considered his question; did she want to see? Or did she want everyone to see?

Her hands went to his face, slid softly across his jaw until her fingers locked behind his head. She pulled his mouth down to hers. She kissed his lips, the soft touch of her tongue tasting his, it is a tender kiss; a thing of affection, but her grasp is firm, holding him tightly in her little hands. She ends the kiss but barely loosens her grip on his head, just enough to play her fingers in his golden hair.

“Oh, my special treasure, I have no fear that you will run away. You belong to me now.” She released his head and her fingers danced a warm trail back to his neck. “Yes, Davis, I do want to see you with my collar around your neck and I want everyone else to see it too. Unfortunately, it will take a very special collar to satisfy me, since you deserve something as unique as you are. ”

He leaned forward, and she felt the press of him against her, she felt his size and power and knew how easy it would be for him to hurt her. He growled softly and his body tensed, for moment she thought… No, it was the warning growl of a formidable animal but it had the face of an angel, my angel. Smiling, she slid her hand down his arm and she took his hand in her own. One hand so small, holding tightly to one so large. His growl, though soft, the tense control he held over his body, even the sight of his large hand excited her.

“Come.” There was no heaviness of a command in her voice, and no softness of a plea, only the simplicity of desire. She turned without releasing his hand and led him down the hall to her bedchamber. As she walked, she removed the pins from her hair, dropping them to the floor and marking the trail to her bed. Her red-fire hair hung in lose curls down her back by the time she turned to face him. She wanted him, all of him. She wanted him in everyway she knew and in ways she only ever imagined. She wanted him hard and fast. She wanted him gentle and teasing. She wanted to feel him. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel the weight of him pressing her into the bed as he drove his cock into her. She wanted to straddle his hips and feel her cunt grip him as she rode him for her pleasure. She wanted her fingers in his hair holding his head between her thighs as his tongue drew whimpers from her lips and her hips pressed her pussy to his mouth. She wanted to feel his cock slide between her lips as she engulfed him with her mouth, and hear him groan as he pushed against the back of her throat, and then farther.

“Take off the livery. Show yourself to me, my treasure.”
 
He wanted to rip it from his body, let it cascade down in pieces, jagged edges to reveal himself. Hard taut muscles, sheening skin, his cock at attention, ready just for her.

But, instead he took great care in letting it fall from him. It was his only pair of clothing, without it he would have nothing but this collar she wished for him to wear. And somewhere in the back of his mind he thought she might just let him follower her with nothing but a collar on, smiling her knowing smile as he submitted further and further.

The clothing removed, her treasure revealed. His breath grew heavy with excitement, as her eyes travelled down. Each time she looked at him, each time he saw surprise and desire in her eyes it sent more shivers throughout him. How could one person affect him so, one look be so confining, so pleasurable.

He went to her bed, beckoned by her look. He knelt down, hands over her soft small body. Her legs open, parted for him. A soft shudder came as he touched the inner thigh, again with those light soft touches. He didn't understand, he couldn't. Why would such small touches be so wonderful? The same as those small looks.

Still, he saw the bruises on her light skin. They were faded, but he could see them. He had hurt her, bruised her fragile flesh. He bent down, kissing one large round bruise that complimented her skin. His tongue ran around it, licking the wound as if it might help.

He scowered her body for more bruises, more cuts from their passion earlier. Scratched on her sides from his intensity, bruises when he had locked her against the wall, dominating her, making her unable to move.

Even her fingers, where he licked them, taking them into his mouth. They deserved his sympathy as well.

And then, he did something he had never done before. He bent down between her parted legs, licking against her sex. The heat coming from her felt like a furnace. Those red swollen lips, he had done harm to them as well. He kissed them, shivers ran through him as the taste finally found his tongue. Sweet nectar of the gods ran freely from between her legs.

Up on the bed, moving into position he licked further. His tongue, slow and cautious, tasting everything anew. Touching here and there. It ran from the bottom of her exposed sex, slow and deliberate up to the top. He buried himself between her legs, licking and nibbling like a man posessed. To taste such passion on the skin, to be filled with such desire.

And then, his tongue found the part in her slit, and he pushed inside. Hard and hot, wet. Further, he pushed in, wanting more. Needing more. His breath became harsh, blowing out to her partedlips as his tongue began licking her inner walls, tasting her free flowing juice, touching everywhere he could.
 
Farsiris

She leaned back on her bed, feeling the same decadent silk beneath her fingers that covered Davis. Absently, her long fingers moved across the silk if he was beneath them. Farsiris was as relaxed and comfortable as it was possible to be while keeping such a tight rein on her keen state. Subtle shifting of her body and tensing of her muscles were partial evidence of her arousal, but she held herself still and kept her expression calm, except for her fingers. She did not hide her desire from Davis, had the right to know she wanted him but perhaps he did not need to know exactly how much.

Lifting on her elbows for a better view, she watched as he took such slow teasing care removing her livery, and she smiled as she thought next time she would rip the damn thing off him. Forever naked and chained to her bed had an appeal of its own. Her eyes moved over him as the livery disappeared and her splendid treasure stood before her. Tall, strong, tan and golden. His blue eyes watched her hungry green move over his body. Proud, attentive, hard and erect. She drew in a soft breath and swallowed it heavily, “What is it that excites you, my treasure? Hmm?”

Whether hoped for or expected, she approved of his response. He knelt down, giving her the feel of his hands touching her with light delicate caresses. She shifted, parting her legs, wanting that delicate stroke on the soft white skin of her inner thigh. Her eyes moved between his body and his face; briefly interested the effect she had on him. He leaned down to give a kiss to a large bruise he had pressed into her skin and she bites her lip as his warm tongue circles the tender skin.

“Is that it? Is that what excites you, your print on my skin?”

His only answer was to look for more. Her neck arched, pushing her head into the slippery silk of the bed, as his eyes, his lips and his tongue moved over her, covering the bruises and scrapes that he had given her with soft kisses and gentle caresses. She tried to remain unaffected, like a patient tended by a healer but it was impossible. Teased by his gentle treatment her of skin she writhed between his soft touch and the sooth silk.

A shivered thrill passed though her as mouth moved lower, down between her open legs, to her opening sex. The soothing licking of his tongue against those tender lips ended her silence and she whimpered. She rested her hands on him, one toying with his golden hair, the other on his shoulder pressing her fingers into his naked flesh, gripping him tightly when she was sure she couldn’t take anymore. He explored her with his lips and his tongue, tasting and testing, licking and nibbling; his slow and deliberate discovery of her sex only heightened her desire. She moved, unable to keep still. Her back arched, lifting her chest into the air as she struggled to keep her hips in place, knowing she would soon be unable to stand this soft delight but wanting his gentleness to last as long as her nature would allow. With only the slightest of warnings, he pushed his tongue into her. Her control slipping, she moaned, and changed the arch of her back, lifting her hips, pushing herself onto his tongue. She nearly whimpered, feeling him pushing and licking her inner walls was a maddening pleasure as her muscles tightened clutching at his probing tongue.

“My treasure.” She lifted a slender leg and put her foot on his shoulder, firmly she pushed him away. “Give me you hand.”

Her fingers wrapped around his index finger, and she pulled it between her legs. She moved it slowly and carefully, until the whisper of a whimper was pulled from her lips and her hips jerked to his hand as she slid his finger across her clit.

Her quiet voice was weighted by the measure of desire. “This will be your treasure; you will uncover it and lavish your attention on it, do you understand? Attend it with your lips, your tongue and so gently with your teeth and you will be rewarded. I will be pleased with you, if you can drive my body to the edge but not let me cross until I call for you to fuck me.” Without thinking, she shifts as she moves his finger, her toy, to the hot entrance of her tunnel. “Can you do that, my treasure? Can you give me so much pleasure that for a breif moment my world becomes nothing more than you and the pleasure of having you?”
 
"Of course my Lady," But, he hesitated, something quivering about him, running down his lips and through his arm. It was fear, not fear of death or punishment.

"But, you will help me, won't you? Guide me? I know so little of this, so little about how to please you, my Lady."

He feared she would not take pleasure from his fumblings over her. That somehow he could not perform to the level of any of her other lovers. He could make love, he knew that much, but touching and licking and everything else? They had been passing moments in his life, nothing more. He knew nothing of women, their bodies, reactions.

He lay beside her in the bed, his large frame overpowering it, dominating the bed. A soft sigh escaped it when he lay down next to her. He took her hand, guiding it as she did his own.

"You do not need me to say it," He whispered in her ear, "But this treasure is yours."

His cock stood hard and firm, its attention plushed as soon as her fingers grazed against it. It looked so large compared to her tiny delicate fingers next to it. He guided it up the shaft, to the round bulbous head. It twitched with the softness of her touch.

"Any time you need of it, just tell me. It is yours, to do with as you please."

Her fingers touching, it moved into her hand, his hips pushing softly up to her soft touch. The world faded as his cock showered new feelings, tingling sensations up and down. No one had touched him like that before, no one had come close.

The large Norseman's breath caught in his throat, becomming ragged and hard as he began to feel everything.
 
Tallon

Tallon was feeling confused. What, exactly, was going on here, he wondered, as he felt her soft, skilful hands begin to unbutton his tunic. Why was he allowing this girl, Shanti, so many liberties?
He grunted as she slid her hand slyly inside, groping for, finding and then beginning to tease, rub and knead his swelling, engorging cock. It wasn't just her obvious talents.......he had to close his eyes for a moment, as she squeezed with exactly the right amount of pressure, in exactly the right place - she stood up to him, not unlike his sister, but without the intense sibling rivalry....... he tensed angrily, when she commented upon his supposed liking for weaker girls, his hand gripped her hair - but her hands, her hands were so soft, and skilful, drawing his cock out from his tunic, fondling, rubbing, rolling his huge heavy balls until he began to gasp in pleasure.

She was a kindred spirit.

"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."

And Tallon had realised something, come to a realisation about Shanti, in the split second before her mouth formed those words, and something changed inside him. Something powerful brushed him, the tip of a great wing of feeling, and nothing would ever be quite the same again. He was not to know of that now, of course, as he relaxed his grip on Shanti's hair just a little, and gave himself up to her passionate mouth, and hands, as she hungrily sought out his aching, throbbing cock.

"Suck me.........." he gasped, and it was more of a plea than an order, as her hot, luscious mouth opened around the tip of his swollen sex, her soft hands straying downwards to his aching, full balls. His huge hands twisted and gripped her hair, his hips bucking up towards her, as she teased and tempted, licked and sucked, rubbed and scratched, until he thought his blood would burst from beneath his skin, and boil away on the surface.
"Suck Me........"
 
Farsiris

Her fingers touching, it moved into her hand, his hips pushing softly up to her soft touch. The world faded as his cock showered new feelings, tingling sensations up and down. No one had touched him like that before, no one had come close.

The large Norseman's breath caught in his throat, becoming ragged and hard as he began to feel everything.

She thumb smoothed over the head of his cock as her fingers moved up and then moved down the shaft. With each pass more of the length of her finger wrapped around him until finally her hand, from palm to finger tip held him in her light grasp. Her hand too small, his cock too large, for her fingers to meet, she twisted her wrist as her hand moved, no part of him would escape her touch. Slowly, her grip tightened, her grasp growing firmer each time it moved from tip to base of his cock.

“I will teach you everything I want you to know, my pet. You will learn precisely how to please me, and I will reward you for your efforts.”

She shifted slightly, rolling toward him, and held her body to his side. Sliding her knee, she rested it on his thigh. The movements of his body, the trembling of his muscles as she pressed against him, the heat of him in her hand all worked together to intensify her need for him. She could feel her blood pounding as it carried its heat over every inch of her skin and deeper into her flesh. Needing to feel more of him, she rubbed herself against him as she fucked him with her hand.

“But maybe I should get to know you better first.” A knot of heat tightened in her stomach, and she exhaled as soft breath. Her hand never released him and it never went still as she dragged her tightened and hard nipples across his chest before sitting up on her knees. She leaned over him, her hair creating a curtain that pooled on his skin and shielded her from his eyes. Her thumb stopped moving over the tip of his cock; instead, her tongue darted along the tip, tasting him. Her lips, warm and wet, explored him with dainty little teasing kisses. She moaned, and yielded to herself, to what she wanted. Her lips parted and slipped around him as she helped him glide over her tongue and into her eager mouth.
 
The rumblings of his chest were hard and soft, running together throughout his body, leaving him an entire platform of sound. Each touch of her fingers running along produced a different chord. She played him, some fine tuned instrument with her well placed touch. He just arced his own back, helpless, lost within the notes.

She wouldn't let him see. Her hair a veil around her, keeping him from watching as he felt for the first time her tongue upon his cock. At once his hips thrust, by themselves, trembling, reacting to such a hot and simple touch. He had to force himself back to the bed, lying down as her touch grew.

Tiny kisses, intimate licks. She explored his sex as he explored hers. But, she posessed something he did not. Experience. With her, every touch added to the next, every sensation rolled together, giving off his sad sweet rumble of pleasure and carnal desire.

His hands gripped the sheets, tightening and loosening them with each strangled sound he made. His grip deathlike, whitened tense knuckles gripping for whatever he could.

And then he felt her mouth around him, her tongue licking, sucking down. The confined heat of her mouth took him in, and his hand slipped around her back, holding her close to him, as he groaned his loudest yet.

He would not last long, he could not last long with such a touch as hers. He could show her no other gratitude then when his cock turned to rigid steel in her mouth, his balls tightened, and that familiar feeling rose in him.
 
Farsiris

She filled her mouth with him. She touched his skin with her nose as her lips, mouth and tongue pulsed around his cock. Veiled by her hair, she gave herself to the pleasure of his taste, his scent, and his feel and the white-hot knot in her belly tightened as he groaned. She moved her head, nearly allowing him to escape the hot wet confines of her mouth before she rushed back, pushing her head down, and taking all of him again. Rocking back and forth, as her mouth moved up and down his shaft, her lips pressed tightly around him, and her tongue lashed the surface of his full, tight skin.

His hand moved over her back and she moaned as her nipples brushed against his thigh. Harder and faster, she took him. Her hands and her weight leaning on to his hips, symbolically pressing him down as she attempted to control the intensity of his reactions. She struggled, satisfying her double desires of enjoyment and control, dominating him with pleasures only she would ever give him. Hungrily, she fucked him with her mouth, holding down until she felt the change him, the final intense tightening of him within her mouth. She shifted her hands and removed her weight, freeing him to release his instinctive responses.

His hips moved, with a jolt pushing deeper into her mouth. She moaned, expectantly, anticipating what was to come. Swiftly, in one hard sudden shove, he thrust hard into her throat and she felt his hot seed shoot into her in powered, jerking spurts. Starving, she hungrily drank his offering, licking and swallowing until there was nothing left.

Smiling, Farsiris sat up and looked into his eyes, “See, my pet, pleasure can take many forms.”
 
The fire in his belly, pushed out through his cock, hot thick sperm into her waiting mouth. His whole body seemed one ball of steel, tight, erect and ungiving. He didn't move until the last shudder of excitement dripped from the head of his cock, and then he lay back, exhausted. He looked up at her, hearing her words, but not understanding them. They reached his mind, but simply bounced off the walls, with nowhere to go.

He came up though, kissed her. A hard full kiss upon her mouth. His dearest thanks for the pleasure still running through him, still leaving him a trembling mess.

He kissed his Countess, his Lady who showed him such pleasure as he had never known. She had let him do the same, offer what little he could to ease her comfort. He knew though, after that, he could offer so little, and she so much.

Then, the meaning of her words took form in his mind. The world came spinning back in a wonderful array of colors.

"Teach me," He whispered, still fresh on her lips, "Teach me, tell me, everything. I want to learn. I want to please you, I want to give you what you gave me."
 
Farsiris

She accepted his kiss, his gratitude, as he pressed it hard on her mouth. Despite his exhaustion, and although his muscles were still shaky, his strength did not fail him, his arms were still strong and the kiss of thanks still held power.

"Teach me," He whispered, "Teach me, tell me, everything. I want to learn. I want to please you, I want to give you what you gave me."

She pulled her body away from him but not her eyes; she kept them in his as she moved. She slipped her body over the smooth silk until she came to rest, lying on her back, her head in the mass of emerald pillows. She stared at him for a moment, as she coiled a red curl around her finger but she was silent with her thoughts. She wanted so much, so many thing from him. There was so much she wanted to teach him and so much she wanted to do to him. He was her pet, her toy, her treasure. Still wrapped in her hair, she smoothed the delicate silk of the bedcovering with her finger until it was free from the curl. Lifting her hand from the bed, she placed it on her stomach. Her fingers drew soft lingering circles over her the fair skin of her smooth flat belly. Licking her lips, she teased herself with widening circles that moved up her stomach, higher and higher until her fingers glanced against the bottom her breasts. With a shrug of her shoulders, her hands reached out above her head as far as they would go and she pointed her toes, creating a slender alabaster as she stretched, lengthening her muscles as far has she could. She arched her back and pushed her head back into the pillows, lifting her chest off the bed before relaxing again.

She cupped her breasts in her hands, and her long fingers teased the pink hard nipples with maddening light touches and only slightly glancing contact. She both pleased and frustrated herself as she refused to move on to firmer contact pinches or tugs. She closed her eyes occasionally, as she rolled her head to the side, or moved her needing body, but her gaze always returned to him. Her cheeks, and then all her skin, took on a pink glow and her breath came rapidly beneath her own hands. She moaned and her back arched again, this time pressing her breasts into her hands as her body searched to increase the pleasure and then lifting her hips searching for another way to end the frustration she was building.

Biting her lip, she pulled her hands off her skin, and reached for his. She pulled his hand until it rested on her breast, and the hard nipple peeked out between his fingers.

“I know how strong you are, my pet, and your power greatly pleases me, now show me how gentle you can be. With your fingers, your lips and your tongue let me see how far you can take me.”
 
The sight of her pleasuring herself like that turned him on so. Even after his encounter with her mouth he could feel himself once more hardening at the sight. Every touch excited her, a responce of some kind. Her fingers trailed lightly along her skin, his eyes watched as the moved.

How soft, nothing hard, no squeezing or pinching. It was just the tip of the finger, lightly moving along.

She guided his hand to her breast. Her back arced to meet it, her skin felt heated against his touch, warm and tingly. He touched it as he saw her do. The finger trailing lightly, moving around her breast, coming up to the hard nub of the nipple. He flicked it once, twice.

He wanted to do more, but stopped. He resisted, this was supposed to be light, touching as she wanted him. He moved to her other breast. This one he breathed on it. Just his breath, hot, dancing on her skin. Did he see a reaction, something? His finger trailed along the curve of her bosom, the sweet swell of flesh, moving up until he pressed against the nipple as well.

Then his tongue flicked it. Soft and wet and warm. She tasted delicious, still fresh from her bath. His tongue licked against her nipple, and he wanted to take her in his mouth, suck on it...

But he stopped himself. He pulled away, not too much. This is supposed to be soft, gentle, this is supposed to be just as she enjoys it.

He tried again, his fingers running along her stomach. He let them swirl and glide along her skin, down the sides of her hips, up to the swell of her breasts once more. And then down, to her thighs. He saw her legs parted once more, but his fingers never moved there. They teased, they played on each side of her legs, never touching in between.

He kenlt to the side, letting his head rest against her stomach. He felt her heartbeat, heard it. His golden curls lay against her pale skin, blocking her from his touch.

It felt good, like she had taught him something. How not seeing heightened the experience. He blocked her from his touch as his fingers moved ever closed to her, each time running up and down her thighs. Moving close, closer, agonizing as they never quite made it to her pussy, but ran just alongside it.

He turned, looking, searching those eyes, coming up to place a soft gentle kiss upon her lips.

"Gentle?" He asked.
 
His soft touch was the sweetest torture; it was nearly more than she could bear. With a smothered moan, she bit her lip; it was the only way silence the plea. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, nearly sinking her teeth into her soft flesh. She had to be silent; she did not want to change the rules, not yet. She wanted more, much more, but not yet.

His hands were so large and so strong and yet so gentle and teasing. They moved over her, igniting her skin and heightening her desire. The tenderness of his fingertips, the warmth of his tongue, and the heat of his breath on her breast, toying with her nipples, all gave renewed life to the fire in her belly. His fingers left trails of shivers as they traced invisible designs in her skin. The trail moved lower, gliding from her breast to her belly, over the curve her hips and down to her thighs. Her legs opened; wanting to feel his touch, her body would ask even if her mouth remained silent.

He teased her with his soft caresses, his fingers moving on her thighs but never in between. Not even a careless or accidental touch grazed her pussy as he teased with tormenting closeness. Farsiris could no longer relax into his touch, her toes curled and her heels pressed into the bed, the muscles of her body tensed as she struggled for control. She fought the urge to beg for more. She wove her fingers through the golden hair of her precious, tantalizing pet, the weight of his head on her stomach reminding her to remain motionless although her body ached to push and arch into his hands.

When she was sure that she could take no more, when she knew she needed so much more, he turned to her, his eyes searching hers. The kiss he placed on her lips was as soft and gentle as his touch had been.

"Gentle?" He asked.

“Oh my pet, wondrously gentle.” Her voice it weighted by desire, and as she speaks she moves to him, leaning her skin against his, pressing into him. “Such gentleness is teasing and tantalizing, arousing and frustrating at the same time. The warmth makes a body desperate for the heat of the fire.”

She kissed him, her mouth hard against his, her tongue thrust between his lips. Her hand held his head, as she sucked his lip into her mouth and nibbled on it with her teeth.

“Now, my treasure, do it again, hot this time, hard and strong.” She nuzzled her cheek against his neck, and her lips brush his shoulder while she speaks. “Do this and then stop. Stop and tell me when you feel the fire, too.”

She pulled away from his neck and looked up into his eyes. “I have plans for you.”
 
Plans, such plans. What plans would she need of him? Good plans, dirty plans? She had something in mind, something she wished to keep a secret. It was her secret to give, whenever she wished.

He only wanted to please her.

His hands came to her breasts, wonderful high mounds on her chest, nipples poking out. His enitre hand, large and built encompassed it. He squeezed, soft at first, but remembered it to be hot now, hard. He squeezed, pinching the nipple with his fingers. The reaction running through both of them, he felt her body react, watched as she moved.

Not too hard, not as to hurt, but something felt different. Something stirred within him.

"There it is," He sighed, coming up to her neck, letting his whole body lay along her width. His foot curling around her leg. His thigh atop her own. He nibbled at her ear lobe, his teeth grazing hot skin, not soft, not gentle.

The rough kneading of her breast, pulling, pinching. The raking of his fingernails across the skin, leaving pale marks of his intensity. He didn't break the skin, but he felt the rush of everything running between them. With her as well as his own.

"I feel it," He moaned into her neck, hard dirty licks all down her shoulder, "It's right there..."

He moved his hand down, touching her clit. It bumped hard against her sex, pushing aside her quivering pussy lips, and his one fat finger slide all the way home inside of her. One hard thrust, he cried out next to her.

"Right there," He sighed, "Right there. I feel it."
 
The battle that had raged within Tallon was as brief as it was telling. She was steady, relentless in her efforts, her mouth moving along the length of his cock as his hips moved in time with her. But his movements were different now. They were less calculated, more spontaneous despite himself. The grip on her hair no longer meant to be dominating, but simply guiding her.

"Suck Me........"

The words of a command were still there, but there was no force behind them any longer. He had realized the truth in her words and the ramifications of what they meant. They would have to discuss later how they would proceed from here--how he could justify keeping her from the Emperor in order to continue their liaisons--but that discussion was for another time. For now, Shanti was content to please Tallon. Not Tallon the Head Trainer, but Tallon her lover.

Her soft lips kissed the head of his cock, her tongue swirling and flicking around the sensitive rim before continuing down the shaft to envelop first one ball, then the other. Shanti gently drew them into her mouth, rolling her tongue around one and then the other, stopping only to glide her warm, wet tongue along his shaft again. Using a hand as an extension of her mouth, she again moved down the length of his cock, the head hitting the back of her throat. With her other hand, she continuously massaged his tight, heavy balls, occasionally scratching lightly at the scrotum and teasingly along his inner thighs. He moaned huskily as she now moved faster, her hair brushing his thighs, tickling them, as her head bobbed along his cock. She felt the moistness begin between her own legs as she felt his orgasm approach. She squeezed his balls, holding them tightly against him, drawing him fully into her mouth. Tallon's breath came in ragged gasps as she sucked hard, tightening her grip on him, never ceasing. Up and down, along his hard, hot cock, feeling it pulse and quiver in her mouth. She looked up at him again, letting him see her like this, see her with his rock-hard cock in her mouth and her lust-filled eyes.
 
Farsiris

Her head rolled back and her back arched, pushing her breasts into his hands the moment of his first touch. His squeeze, his touch, it was soft, too soft, and a mewl of disappointment flowed from her lips. His grip tightened on the warm yielding skin, and his strong fingers pinched her nipples. His fingers, hard on her firm flesh, brought no pain, just a fierce strong wave of pleasure. She moaned, low and soft, a small sound deep in her throat, as her body moved, already seeking his.

The pleasures of his touch a promise now, when before it had only been a maddening question.

"There it is," She heard him breathe his words into her neck as she pressed her body to his, feeling the warm hard length of him with her delicate skin. His thigh rested on hers until she parted her legs and raised the other on top of his. Shifting to face him, she held his leg between her.

His touch became harsher, his coarse-skinned hands rubbing her breasts with a rough concentration. His nails dragged along her skin leaving a pink trail of fine fading welts. His teeth pressed into the pale skin of her neck, drawing heated moans but leaving no marks.

His touch moved along the fine line between pain and pleasure, treading it closely but striking a perfect balance and never crossing it. If she wanted what was on the other side of the line, her body gave no sign. Her legs wrapped tightly around the thigh they held between them, pulling it to her, moving against it and marking it with her wetness.

"I feel it," He moaned into her neck, hard dirty licks all down her shoulder, "It's right there..."

His hand moved down from her breast to her belly, moving firmly over the smooth skin as she unwound her legs from his. She held on to a whimper as his finger contacted her throbbing clit and pushed passed the damp lips of her sex. She could not contain the cry as his finger pushed into her with a single forcing thrust. Her hips pushed into his hand as her cunt tightened around him, holding him inside her.

"Right there," He sighed, "Right there. I feel it."

She wrapped an arm around his neck, and pulled him to her. Whispering in his ear, as her body writhed on his finger, her clit rubbing against his hand, “Do you, my pet? I feel it but do you?” She arches her back as she moans, her body moving, never still, always pressing against him. She slides her hand down his chest and over the hard muscles of his stomach, drawing a warm faint line until she wraps her fingers around his cock; her grasp is as firm as her delicate hand can make it. “Use this, my pet and show me. Prove to me that you feel it.”
 
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