by Leo Hull
Chapter Fifteen
Tristan’s head snapped up with a start, his eyes struggling their way open in the warm, languid air. A tanned man with black hair carpeting his chest and a wide smile laughed as he settled into the opposite corner of the bath.
“Careful not to drown,” the man chuckled. “Might be a week before they find your body back here.”
“A fair warning,” Tristan agreed, pushing himself up. His hands were wrinkled, and he had no idea how long he’d been out. He was startled to see the lone attendant at the end of the hall had been replaced by two men in leather armor.
“In fact, in all my years coming here, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen another person. Don’t care for the salt, myself, but sometimes it’s the only way to get away from those that come here to chat rather than unwind. The Baths are not a place to discuss politics or drum up meetings. We have the clubs for that, but some people just don’t know how to turn off.” The man prattled on, barely taking a breath as he listed the insufferable ways the other patrons disturbed the Baths’ soothing atmosphere.
Tristan tuned him out, his heart pounding as he eyed the two new guards. Over leather, they wore white uniforms styled similar to the attendants but were the first two male employees he had seen anywhere in the Baths. Unlike the guard who hid a blade between her legs, swords hung openly from their belts and they looked to have the muscles to use it.
The closer one turned, and locked eyes with Tristan. An ugly scar cut a swathe through an otherwise thick beard, but a smile split his face when Tristan rolled his eyes and nodded in the direction of his babbling bathing partner.
“…and you won’t believe the number that can’t take a hint and just be quiet,” the man continued.
“No, truly?” Tristan asked, standing and stepping from the bath.
“I’ve complained to the attendants, but they will do nothing unless they deem the disturbance to be ‘unruly,’ some vague term that means one thing one week, and another the next. All I can do is try to find a quiet area and move if I am disturbed. They remind that this is a public bath, as if I am not part of the public and deserving of quiet enjoyment! I pay the same as any of the others, if not more! Why, I likely keep this place afloat! Perhaps I should tell my friends of the trouble I’m having here.”
“You could organize a boycott,” Tristan suggested, snagging his towel. His feet slapped the tile as he walked towards the exit.
“Now there’s an idea! If I were to refuse—” the man cut short as he finally noticed Tristan’s departure. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you,” Tristan said with a shrug, unable to suppress a smile as the man’s face turned purple. A stream of complaints followed Tristan out into the hall, and he gave a rude gesture behind him, much to the amusement of the two guards.
Tristan moved calmly, resisting the urge to look back at them, and headed to the cold saltwater room. Still steaming from the hot bath, he steeled himself and sank into the frigid water with a sharp gasp. He settled in to wait for the blathering fool to leave.
The two openly armed guards could mean just one thing. Talek was here.
He hated the delay and the chance that Talek could leave, but he wouldn’t risk the chatty fool trying to give him another earful only to find Tristan mysteriously vanished. He seemed the type that would helpfully alert the attendants. Discovery meant an end to this plan, and perhaps an end to any hope of rescuing Annik and Nessa.
Fortunately, the sound of bare feet retreating towards the front of the Baths soon sounded, and Tristan rose with a grin. He moved silently and hoped the guards didn’t decide to come and check on him. None of the other attendants ever had, and they always appeared and disappeared through the private area rather than the main hallways.
Grabbing his towel, he pulled open the passage door just enough to slide inside where he quickly toweled the cold water off his skin. He started to wrap the towel around his waist, then stopped. It offered no protection and could even trip him as he tried to sneak through the clutter.
He moved slowly, taking care to keep his balance and keeping his eyes down at his feet as he stepped over potential hazards. As he drew nearer to the guards, he was surprised to hear a loud, feminine moan followed by the sound of a slap against bare skin. The guards chuckled and whispered to one another.
“Did you see the two he brought in there today? That one had tits the size of my head.”
“Think that’s her doing the spanking?”
“Nah, big-tits wouldn’t stop staring at the ground and the small one looked like she was about to open presents.” He huffed. “Can you believe that fat-ass never even touches them? What’s the point of just watching?”
“What have I told you? He hears you saying that, and I’ll be the one cutting your tongue out.”
“Calm down, he’s celebrating and busy struggling to breathe while he watches his little show. Maybe he’ll ask one of us to fuck them.”
“With that small cock of yours? Rudhek claims Talek had him and Arthek in there together on one girl, and when Arthek finished too soon, Talek had him tossed from the cliffs. I’d rather he stays in there and we stay out here.”
“Th-that can’t be true…”
Tristan couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and the news of Talek’s cruelty and debauched den sent him racing forward, worried he would find Annik and Nessa. He neared his vantage point but paused at the sound of wet kissing.
Right outside the slats a bed had been positioned at one end of the bath, and on it two naked women kissed, their lips locked and eyes closed as tongues explored. He had a perfect view of a small but cute butt pointed back at him, already covered in red handprints. The guard had the women’s roles backwards, and a curvy woman with round, pink nipples brought her hand down sharply on her smaller companion’s upturned ass.
Her big breasts swung with the blow, and she let the smaller woman cry out before sliding her fingers noisily into her. The women weren’t Annik and Nessa, thankfully, but Tristan hardened as he mentally put his two adventuring partners in their place.
They kissed again, the submissive rocking her hips against her lover’s exploring hand.
Tristan was so captivated he didn’t notice Talek until the man waved an arm. Immediately the dominant woman pulled back from the kiss while savaging her partner’s eager pussy. The small woman’s body rocked under the assault and she struggled to keep her head up.
“Now, you won’t forget the heated towels again, will you?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll remember!” The tiny woman’s eyes flicked towards Talek and then down again. “I’ll accept whatever punishment is necessary.”
Tristan wanted to watch, wanted to reach down and relieve some of the pressure that had him standing at full mast, but he was here for a reason. No matter how alluring the sapphic display was, he needed to focus. He reluctantly turned his attention to the shapeless man resting at the far end of the bath.
The innkeeper had called him fat, but the word did not do justice to Talek’s size. Tristan wondered if he could even walk and how that could be the man that inspired fear and arranged for Annik and Nessa’s capture.
“A moment, please,” Talek called, his shrill voice grating and more fitting for a small boy than his gargantuan frame. The women froze, both breathing heavy at the interruption to their pleasure. An attendant walked over and began whispering into Talek’s ear.
Tristan silently cursed his distractibility and moved deeper into the storage nook towards a corner draped in shadows where he hoped he would be able to hear. Stepping gingerly but quickly, Tristan squeezed into the tight space, his bared manhood running into something delightfully warm and soft.
“Wha—”
A knife edge appeared from the darkness and pressed against his throat hard enough to draw blood at the same time a small hand slapped over his mouth. Tristan held perfectly still, afraid even to swallow.
“Make a noise,” a soft, girlish
voice whispered from just below his chin, “and I open your throat.” To emphasize her point, she twisted the knife just enough to send a fresh trickle of blood down Tristan’s neck.
Tristan looked down his nose into a pool of woman-shaped darkness, her features obscured by whatever had allowed her to remain hidden. Her outline interrupted the light coming in through the slats, but otherwise she might as well have been made of darkness itself.
The shadow shifted, the hand and blade withdrawing slightly as she leaned closer to the wall and into the thin slits of light filtering through the slats. The lattice of light fell across her and hinted at a short, slender woman with pale skin and small breasts that matched her frame. He could toss her a dozen yards, yet the knife at his neck left him at her mercy. She focused on Talek, but her hand never wavered.
With nothing else to do, he admired what little of her shape he could make out. The glimpses left much to the imagination, but one thing the darkness didn’t hinder was the feel of her soft skin against his manhood, and though he’d wilted at the surprise of a blade appearing against his neck, his body felt the danger was now past.
He stiffened, his girth pressing harder into the velvet shadow as he grew. It took every bit of self-control not to rub against her, but he had less command over his shaft’s instinctual twitches.
The soft sounds of the women coupling on the other side of the room resumed and Tristan’s captor hissed in displeasure, pulling back from the light and fading back into nothingness. Well, nothingness except for the sharp edge against his skin.
“Who are you,” she asked, her voice so soft Tristan felt the urge to lean in closer despite the knife.
“Tristan.”
“That’s not helpful. Who do you work for? What are you doing here?”
Tristan hesitated, unsure of how to answer the first question. Explaining that he was a foreigner from a land across an ocean didn’t seem the best way to gain her trust. She was here spying on Talek too, so Tristan decided to take a small gamble. “Talek kidnapped two women very important to me. I’m trying to find them.”
The shadow remained quiet, and Tristan wished he could at least see her face to try and judge her reaction. The silence dragged on.
“Describe them.”
“One has silver hair, violet eyes and tanned skin. The other is athletic and taller, with blonde hair.” He hesitated and wondered if he should go on.
“If I take the knife away, will you attack me?”
“Of course not,” Tristan agreed readily, more interested in the fact that his brief description of Annik and Nessa had convinced her of his trustworthiness. The knife vanished into the darkness, and Tristan rubbed at the cut. “You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
“A few nights ago.” Her voice seemed to spring from nothing, and he felt her shift against him. “They were shackled, unconscious, and the blonde looked like she’d been on the losing end of a fight. They were alive.”
“Thank you!” Tristan said earnestly, surprised as he felt a nervousness in his stomach ease that he hadn’t even been aware of. “By the Fallen, thank you!” He reached out and wrapped her in a hug, her body tensing then relaxing and fading into view as the shadows seemed to rip away from her.
“Quiet you fool!” she hissed, her grey eyes narrowed dangerously on a cute face with pouty stained lips. Short black hair fell to just below her ears. She scrunched her button nose and pushed weakly against Tristan’s embrace. She was as naked as him and felt tiny in his muscular arms that were as big around as her slim thighs. “If you get us caught, I’ll hamstring you so I can escape.”
Tristan quickly let her go and lowered her to the stool she needed to peer through the biggest crack in the vents. He cringed at his over-eager reaction. “Sorry, it’s just you gave me the first good news I’ve had in days. Thank you again…”
“Lydia,” she answered, the hint of a smile on lips stained deep red. In the dim light she looked pale and beautiful, and Tristan wished he had met her in a different setting where his erection wasn’t pinned between them. He doubted he was making the sort of lasting impression she would appreciate. She brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind an ear and glanced towards where Talek bathed. “You can stay, I guess. Just put your weapon away.”
“I’m unarmed.” Tristan held his hands up then frowned as she looked down at his manhood with a smirk. “Ah, yeah, that…”
“Yes, that.”
“Give me a minute.” Tristan tried to buy time he knew wouldn’t help. Lydia’s svelte form was distraction enough, but Talek’s entertainment for the evening had resumed, and from the sound of it, with renewed enthusiasm.
“Just tuck it between your legs or something,” Lydia hissed, turning her back to him and leaving Tristan there with his mouth hanging open.
Did she have any idea what she asked?
And yet, she’d seen Annik and Nessa. Keeping Lydia happy might be his best chance at finding them. He could move away from her, but then he wouldn’t be able to hear Talek if he had another visitor. Cringing, Tristan reached between them, the back of his hand brushing along the curve of her tight, pert ass. He gripped himself and stifled a groan of discomfort as he sought to bend iron, conscious the entire time of how he fumbled against Lydia.
He’d managed to get himself pointed mostly downward, now pressing into Lydia’s leg rather than her hip and butt, when Lydia sighed.
“You’re going to get us caught bungling around back there. Just don’t try anything.”
Tristan sighed in appreciation and released himself. Like the arm of a fired catapult, he slapped with surprising force between Lydia’s legs. She slammed her thighs together reflexively, trapping his cock in a cocoon of soft warmth that emptied Tristan’s mind.
The two froze, neither breathing as they pressed together.
“Let me—”
“Leave it. You’re too noisy. But if you try anything…” The knife appeared in her hand and she lowered it slowly to where he stuck out between her legs. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes as hard and cold as the steel in her hand. “Is that really you?”
Tristan nodded, and Lydia quickly turned away as color flooded her cheeks.
She focused her attention fully on Talek, as Tristan’s should be. Following her lead, he leaned forward, lowering his head to watch next to Lydia’s and acutely aware of her rapid breath.
Talek sat alone watching the entertainment. He rested his two hands atop his belly and stared ahead, blinking the only outward sign he was awake.
“I don’t think he’s taking a meeting tonight,” Lydia whispered, nodding towards the bed where the two women writhed. Her breath felt hot against his cheek and this close he could smell the scented waters of the baths in her hair. “He likes to put people off balance, and if he was expecting company, those two wouldn’t be rushing towards climax so quick.”
Tristan nodded but didn’t dare speak. He tried counting the rings on the chain around Talek’s neck, anything to control his arousal. It was a losing battle and he couldn’t resist turning to see the climax Lydia spoke of.
The smaller woman now lay on her back, a hand busy between her own legs while the disciplinarian sat on her face, her tits swaying rhythmically as she ground her hips. The larger woman had her head down, her hair hiding her face but not her cries of pleasure.
Tristan gawked. He knew some women took their pleasure with one another and had paid for the company of two on more than one occasion, but the mechanical interactions between hired help had always been awkward and nothing like the raw need of these two. This was unbridled passion that rivaled what he and Nessa had.
Water sloshed, and everyone froze. The two women on the bed jerked to a reluctant halt as Talek rose from the water sending waves sloshing from the pool. The lovers looked disappointed and Tristan felt their pain as he throbbed between Lydia’s clenching legs. An attendant entered and offered Talek a towel and robe.
“Feel free to continue,” Talek
squawked before moving gracefully towards the rear exit.
Something about the way Talek moved struck Tristan as peculiar, but he didn’t dwell on it. The lovers moved eagerly together and abandoned the dominant and submissive roles to kiss with hands between each other’s legs. They ground together, giggling as they gave into their pent-up need.
Lydia watched the scene captivated, her lips parted and breathing shallow and as entranced as he was. Even in the dim light, her pale skin couldn’t hide the blush to her cheeks, but Tristan didn’t need to see that to know her arousal. She’d started grinding against him, tilting her hips subtly to get just the right angle. Her soft thighs and wet lips massaged his cock as she took her pleasure and Tristan wasn’t about to interrupt her.
“You feel good,” Lydia whispered, putting an arm on the wall to support herself. Before Tristan could reply, she kissed him with her eyes turned to the side watching Talek’s abandoned show.
Tristan surrendered himself to the kiss and Lydia’s full lips, his hands dropping to her slim hips. She whimpered as he held her in place and began to thrust between her legs. Tristan pressed his mouth harder against hers, silencing her moans as she parted her lips to accept his tongue.
The cries of the women finding mutual release in the bath echoed loudly and Lydia stiffened, reaching back to hold him as she twitched in place. She nearly collapsed, held aloft only be Tristan’s hands and cock, which throbbed and released his days of need onto the wall in front of them. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her urgently as he slid a hand to cup one of her small breasts. Lydia mewled and arched her back to present her nipples for Tristan.
Talek’s two exhibitionist lovers giggled and began chatting happily, signaling the end of their tryst.
Lydia slowed her hips and pulled back from their kiss. Her eyes were the grey of thunderclouds on a warm summer day, and they welcomed his gaze.