Descended

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Yeah, right,” I mumbled under my breath. As if I would put myself in for more of this than I had to.

  “Well, if there is nothing else, then I will take my leave,” she said again.

  “Wait!” I exclaimed. “Wait, there is something else!”

  “Yes?”

  My eyes were adjusting to the dim lighting and I could see that Aliza was looking at me with a patient expression in her eyes.

  “Um…” I tried to think of something—anything at all—to stall, to keep her from leaving. But my mind was suddenly a complete blank.

  “I shall leave you, then,” Aliza said, a mysterious smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “And do not worry, my Lady. I think you will find your pleasure attendant very much to your liking.”

  As if I could like a stranger—any stranger—who came in the dark room and groped me. But before I could think of anything to say to stop her, she left and the pleasure room door snicked shut behind her.

  Can’t believe I’m doing this. Can’t believe I’m actually going to let some stranger—

  The soft sound of the door behind the curtain opening cut off my train of thought as cleanly as a surgeon’s scalpel.

  Oh my God, I thought to myself. Oh my God, he’s here! He’s right across from me behind the curtain! Here we go!

  There was a soft sound of heavy footsteps muffled by the cushioned floor. Though I couldn’t see him, it immediately gave me the idea that my “pleasure attendant” was a very large guy. Well, most of the Majoran males seemed to be pretty big. I was sure I hadn’t seen a single one under six foot six and most of them seemed to be closer to Kristoff’s height of over seven feet.

  Kristoff! I thought longingly as I heard the man on the other side of the curtain approach. I wish it was you! I don’t want anyone else!

  But what I wanted didn’t seem to matter. There was a soft rustling behind the curtain and I got the impression that whoever it was had knelt in front of me.

  I got tense, waiting for big, unfamiliar hands to grab my breasts and start groping between my legs.

  Instead, he touched my knees.

  I know, right? It was weird. And at first I was sure he was going to run his hands up my legs and right between my thighs. But he just sat there, silent and motionless, with his big, warm hands on my knees, which of course, were sticking out between the slits in the curtain.

  Okay, so maybe he was a knee man? Which was weird, especially considering that my breasts were also sticking out of the slits in the curtain. Maybe it was too dim in the room for him to see properly. But he should still know that my boobs wouldn’t be down where my knees were. What was going on?

  “Um…”After a long moment, I cleared my throat, not sure what to say. “You, uh, do know you’re touching my knees, right?”

  There was a soft sound of ascent and a deep voice murmured, “Yes, my Lady.”

  “Okay. And you further know that my boobs, I mean my breasts, are up here, right?” It felt funny to call attention to my breasts when I’m usually wishing a guy would look me in the eyes instead. But since we were here to do this, we might as well get it over with.

  “Do you want me to touch your breasts?” the deep voice asked softly.

  “I…um…well, you’re supposed to, I think,” I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.

  “That isn’t what I asked you.” The big hands finally moved, sliding slowly up my thighs. But he was touching the tops of my thighs—not angling inward to go for my sex. My nerves tingled at the light touch and I felt the flame of need within me, which had been almost extinguished by my fear and uncertainty, suddenly blaze to life again.

  “I…I’m not sure what I want,” I said, my voice soft and breathless. “I…I’m afraid.”

  “I know,” he murmured. “I can feel you tremble.”

  I felt those big, warm hands begin to move again, sliding slowly upwards from my thighs to my hips.

  They were on my side of the curtain now and I looked down, wishing for the first time that the light wasn’t quite so dim. I wanted to see him a little better—well, what I could see of him, anyway which was mostly just his hands and his muscular forearms. His long, strong fingers were splayed, resting lightly on the swells of my hips.

  “Hey,” I said, slightly breathless. “I, uh, thought you were supposed to stay on your side of the curtain.”

  His hands moved up, dipping inward to caress the curve of my waist.

  “You have a lovely shape, my Lady,” he murmured, ignoring my halfhearted protest.

  “I…um…thank you,” I whispered uncertainly.

  The hands continued their journey, sliding up my sides and over my shoulders to lightly caress the hollow of my throat and the sensitive sides of my neck. Against my will, I felt a tingle of pleasure at his gentle touch and I had to bite back a moan. God, and he hadn’t even touched the parts he was supposed to touch yet! What was going on with me?

  The hands moved again, sliding down the sides of my breasts and then cupping their undercurves in his big, warm palms. I shivered, though he still hadn’t come anywhere near my nipples, which were tight with need and fear.

  “You’re going very slowly,” I blurted out. “I mean, not that that’s a bad thing. I’m not complaining or anything I just…” I trailed off, realizing I was babbling.

  Shut up, Charlotte, I told myself fiercely. Just shut up and let him get this over with. But for the first time, I wasn’t as certain that I wanted it over with.

  “I was told to be gentle, as this is your first time at a pleasure house, my Lady,” he murmured. “Do you wish me to be rougher?”

  “What? No!” I exclaimed, feeling half panicked. “No, please don’t!”

  There was a soft laugh from the other side of the curtain.

  “Never fear, my Lady. Your body is beautiful. I will worship it gently and with reverence.”

  Finally I felt his hands move up and then he was sliding his thumbs gently over my tight, aching nipples.

  I gave a little gasp and jumped. The spike of pleasure I got from such a small gesture scared me. Scared me because I realized I felt drawn to this strange man behind the curtain. And how could that be when I didn’t feel drawn to anyone but Kristoff?

  Kristoff! The thought of him filled me with a longing so deep and wide I felt like I might drown in it. I couldn’t do this—couldn’t let another man touch me— pleasure me. Not when I wanted only Kristoff.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this but I can’t…I just can’t.”

  I started to pull away but then his fingers closed over my sensitive nipples, squeezing gently and dragging a moan from my lips.

  “Why, my Lady?” he murmured. “Why can’t you allow yourself to be pleasured? Is it because you long for another?”

  “Yes,” I whispered breathlessly. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

  “And what, may I ask, is his name?” the deep, soft voice inquired as he rolled my nipples gently between his thumbs and fingers.

  “Ah…” I gasped. “His…his name is Kristoff.”

  “And he is the one you burn for? The one you desire?” A gentle tug at my ripe buds accompanied the question, making me moan again.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I want him so…so much. But I can’t have him. It…it’s not allowed.”

  “The love of a Royal female for a low born male she cannot have,” he murmured. “We hear this tale often here at the Royal House of Goddess Pleasures.”

  “You…you do?” He was still pinching and twisting my nipples and the gentle torture was driving me half insane.

  “We do. Did you know that such couples often meet in just such a place as this?” he asked softly. “For here they can come together anonymously as pleasure attendant and pleasure seeker and do things that would otherwise be forbidden.”

  “I…I didn’t know that,” I whispered.

  “It’s true, my Lady. I have even heard tell of a Lady who fell in love with her guard. Though he
was sworn never to touch her intimately, he had no choice but to follow her when she went to the House of Goddess Pleasures. He had sworn, you see, to see to her safety in all matters. And since he felt he could not trust any other male to safely give her a release, he took the matter upon himself.”

  “You mean he…he switched places with the pleasure attendant?” I asked breathlessly. God, every time he pinched my nipples I could feel sparks of pleasure going straight to the spot between my thighs! Already I felt swollen and wet there. I spread my legs a little wider, trying to get comfortable.

  “Even so,” the low voice murmured. “And so he came to her and pleasured her and brought her many sweet releases while she called his name, none the wiser that it was actually he who was touching her.”

  Somehow, through the haze of pleasure, his story started to make sense.

  “What are you telling me?” I asked, wondering if what I was thinking could possibly be true.

  “I am only telling you of things that have happened here in the past,” he said. “But, my Lady, if you so desire this ‘Kristoff’ then why do you not pretend that I am he?”

  “You…you certainly talk like him,” I said and then moaned as he stopped pinching my nipples a moment to knead my breasts with his big hands. “Very…Renaissance Fair.”

  “And what does he call you?” he inquired in that low, hypnotic voice.

  “He calls me ‘my Lady’ a lot,” I whispered. “And also…Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte,” he murmured and I could feel his hot breath through the curtain. “Do you like the way I’ve been touching your sweet breasts? Or was I too rough with your tender nipples? Maybe I should suck them and make them better?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, please.”

  “Ask me to do it, then,” he murmured. “Say, ‘I want you to suck my nipples.’ And call me by his name when you do.”

  “Kristoff?” I said uncertainly. “You want me to call you Kristoff?”

  “Yes, my Lady. It would be my pleasure and, I believe, yours as well.”

  “Kristoff,” I whispered. “Please…suck my nipples.”

  “As you wish, Charlotte,” he murmured. And then I felt one tight peak being pulled into his hot, wet mouth and he sucked me hard, making me moan and sway against the curtain helplessly.

  “Gods, I love your breasts,” he groaned softly, when he finally released my first nipple. “So full and ripe. So perfect, my Goddess.”

  I moaned as he sucked my other nipple into his mouth and reached through the slits in the curtain to bury my fingers in his hair. It was thick and I threaded my fingers through it as I pressed my chest up to meet his mouth. He was torturing my nipple with his tongue, circling the aching bud slowly and stopping every once in a while to nip very gently with his teeth until I thought I was going to go crazy.

  “Oh,” I whispered, needing no prompting this time. “Oh, Kristoff.”

  “That’s right, Charlotte,” he growled softly, releasing the second nipple. “Call me by name. And tell me what else you need.”

  “I…Kristoff, I need a release,” I whispered, telling the truth. “I need to come.”

  “Of course you do my Lady.” One big hand stole down to slide between my legs. I felt him cup my vulnerable, open pussy in one big hand.

  “Oh…” I whispered, the sound falling off my lips like a moan.

  “I can feel how hungry your sweet little pussy is, Charlotte,” he murmured through the curtain that still separated us. “I can feel how wet and swollen you are.”

  As he spoke, one long finger slipped between my slippery folds and began to slide gently around and around my aching clit, never quite touching it.

  “Ah!” I gasped. I couldn’t help thinking that this was exactly the way Kristoff had touched me when he bathed me. Again the thought entered my mind…what was the true identity of the man on the other side of the curtain? And then the idea was driven out of my head as the pad of his thumb began to slide back and forth over my tender bud, back and forth…back and forth until my knees trembled and I had to reach through the curtain to grab his broad shoulders for support.

  “Tell me you want this, Charlotte,” he said, his low voice fierce with desire. “I want to hear you say you like it.”

  “I do like it,” I whispered, moving my hips in time with his slow, intense rhythm. “I love it!”

  “Call me by name,” he insisted. “And tell me what you like.”

  “I…I like it when you…when you pet my pussy, Kristoff,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat as he continued the slow, maddening caress.

  “Good, that’s good, my Lady,” he murmured. “Are you getting close to a release, do you think?”

  “Yes!” I gasped. I could feel my orgasm hovering on the horizon, just out of reach. But if he kept stroking and petting my swollen, sensitive clit I knew it would soon overwhelm me, just as it had the night before when Kristoff was bathing me so thoroughly.

  Just as I was beginning to feel the beginning swells of it, however, the big hand was withdrawn.

  “What…why did you stop?” The words were almost a sob in my throat. “I was really close.”

  “I know, my Lady. But it occurs to me that this Kristoff of yours wouldn’t want you to come on his fingers.”

  “He…he wouldn’t?” I was trying to follow what he was saying but my disappointment in not being allowed to reach the peak was so sharp it was hard to feel anything but need.

  “No, he wouldn’t,” the man behind the curtain murmured. “Not when you could come on his tongue instead.”

  “Come on his…what do you mean?” I felt my need turn to uncertainty. As I’ve said before, this particular activity was never high on my wish list.

  “I mean I want to taste your pussy, Charlotte,” he growled softly. “I want to spread your thighs and lick your clit until you come, riding my tongue.”

  “I…you…you do?” The hot, dirty words left me almost breathless. I felt a renewed surge of desire rush through me.

  “More than anything,” he assured me. “But I don’t want to do it with this curtain in the way.”

  Abruptly the curtain parted and I saw him looming over me for the first time.

  He was tall—tall and very muscular, just as I had suspected—and bare from the waist up. There was a mask obscuring the top part of his face but there was no mistaking those broad shoulders, or the rapidly shifting rainbow eyes I saw behind the black leather mask.

  “Kristoff?” I whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. “It…it’s really you?”

  “Yes, my Lady,” he murmured. “Who else would I entrust with your safety? I couldn’t take the chance that a strange male might hurt you when he touched your most sensitive areas. I had to undertake your pleasuring myself.”

  “So you…you’ve been the one touching me?” I whispered.

  Slowly, he nodded. “And now I’m going to taste you.”

  “I…” I felt suddenly shy at the idea. “I don’t know, Kristoff.”

  A smile touched the corners of his sensual mouth.

  “Who is this ‘Kristoff’ you speak of my Lady? I am but a humble pleasure attendant, sent to satisfy your needs and give you a release.”

  “I see,” I said, feeling a shiver of need run through my body. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

  His eyes behind the black leather mask grew hot and heavy-lidded.

  “I’m going to carry you to the couch, my Lady, and lay you down so that you can open for me completely. Then I’m going to spread your thighs wide and pleasure you with my tongue. I want to fuck you with it—fuck you deep and long and hard until you come all over my face.”

  “Oh…” I felt almost faint with desire at his hot words. He almost never swore, so when he did, it sent a little tingling shock through me. But that wasn’t the only thing making me tingle—the naked desire in his eyes was making me crazy. This was the first time he’d openly acknowledged how much he wanted me—that h
e needed me as much as I needed him.

  “My Lady…” He stood and swooped me up into his arms. “Will you let me bring you to the couch?” he murmured. “Will you spread yourself for me and let me taste you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, unable to help myself. “Yes, Kristoff. If…if you really want to.”

  “It’s all I’ve wanted from the first moment I saw you,” he admitted, his deep voice hoarse with desire. “Gods, Charlotte, if you only knew how I desire to worship your pussy with my tongue.”

  “I…I didn’t know you felt that way,” I whispered as he carried me over to the cushioned couch and lay me down on it.

  “All Majoran males desire to worship their goddesses so,” he assured me, kneeling between my legs. “My Goddess, I want you so badly…want to bury my face between your thighs and taste your sweet honey straight from the source.”

  Before I could answer, he ducked his head and rubbed his rough cheek against the tender mound of my sex. He inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering with lust and then rubbed the other cheek against my cleft as well, almost as though he was bathing in my scent.

  “Gods, you smell so good,” he groaned softly. “From that first accidental kiss aboard the ship, I’ve dreamed of nothing but this. Spreading you open and licking your pussy deep and long and hard.”

  I remembered the kiss he was talking about, when his lips had accidentally made contact with my sex during the sensitivity test he’d performed on me. Had he really been thinking about tasting me since then?

  Apparently so, because his eyes were still heavy-lidded with desire as he leaned down to press a warm kiss to the top of my mound.

  “Charlotte,” he said, looking up at me. “I will try to be gentle but I want you very badly.”

  “Maybe…maybe we should just start with a kiss. Like we did before,” I suggested breathlessly.

  He made a low sound of assent in his throat.

  “Perhaps we should at that. Can you spread your outer lips for me, as you did before? Can you open your pussy for me, Charlotte, and let me kiss you?”