Journey's End

by LJ Maas

  “A backrub, Xena. That’s what I need,” she mumbled, practically into her pillow.

  Oh Gods, I knew what she was recreating, now. It was the first night we spent together. I realized I might be in a tad over my head here, but never being one to back away from a challenge, I blindly pressed on. I stood there wondering how a submissive person acts, how do they think? I watched as she spread those legs apart and I knew it was up to me to take the silent command to kneel there. I found myself frozen in place, literally unable to move. Something like fear kept me grounded in place, unable to obey the unspoken order. I was suddenly afraid that I wouldn’t be able to please my lover, couldn’t be what she needed. Was I too old, too weary, did I have enough in me to be in love? Children... she wanted children, Gods!

  My thoughts raced through my brain like a speeding chariot. I pulled my mind to an abrupt halt and realization crept up on me. This is what a slave feels like; insecure, unworthy, always wondering if you are good enough, pleasing enough. For all my bluster about being unable to know what a slave truly feels, I actually did know. Deep down, the only thing different between Gabrielle and I had always been her fear. Now, that she was ridding herself of that cumbersome emotion, she stood on an equal footing with me. That fact terrified me. It also elated me. I had a chance to give Gabrielle something that no man or woman ever gave her; the chance to be in command. To feel with abandon, understanding that any pleasure you desired was within your reach. I was smiling at that prospect when Gabrielle spoke.

  “Not up to the challenge, Conqueror?” she smirked into her pillow.

  I decided to take the challenge. I kneeled between her open legs, my own pressing up against her. I touched her, kneading the muscles in the small of her back. I slowly began to feel her muscles become warm and pliant under my touch. Her skin felt smooth, but I could feel the strength the porcelain skin disguised.

  “Where did you learn how to do this?” Gabrielle asked in a breathy voice. I just knew she was holding back a groan of pleasure.

  I decided to play along with her little recreation. “One of my masters had a healer who was from the land of Chin. He was very happy to teach me the ways of his art, Mistress.” I tried to remember the few words Gabrielle spoke to me that evening.

  I leaned into her slight body and rubbed small circles into her lower back with the heel of one hand. Strong thighs parted slightly and I pressed against the insides of those gorgeous legs, leaning my weight in, to place more pressure on my hand. She moaned softly as the curls covering my mound pressed into her shapely backside, and my own wetness betrayed me, just as it had when our positions were reversed. Gods! How does she do it? I was about ready to hold her down and ravish her right then. I paused momentarily upon reaching her hips, acting as if I didn’t know in which direction to continue. Thank the Gods this whole thing seemed to be exciting her as much as me.

  “Lower,” she ordered.

  I watched as the muscles in her arms tensed in anticipation. She held the pillow in her arms tighter as I kneaded the flesh of her backside, wondering if she had any idea how insane she was making me with the small whimpers that I’m sure she wasn’t even aware she was making. I ran my hands along the silky skin there, first strongly massaging, then softly teasing with only my fingertips. I held my hands close together, letting the thumbs run along the division, moving lower until they just grazed her wetness. I took a deep breath, struggling to stay focused. In time, I moved down each thigh and along the backs of her legs, allowing my hands to caress her calves, working the arch of her foot, before letting my hands make the return journey.

  By the time I slowly worked my way up to her backside again; the sounds coming from her throat were torturing me. She could no more hide her desire, than I could stop. It was easy to see her excitement, the folds of her sex, open and exposed to my eyes, glistened with her own brand of ambrosia. I was beginning to wonder if Gabrielle would want me in the exact way I wanted her, but I continued on. I was the slave and she the master. It was up to her to tell me what she desired. I don’t know what it was about the open way she lay before me, the submissive position that belied who was in control, and who was merely being pleased, but I watched, mesmerized, as she pulled one knee up, spreading herself open, issuing the one command I held my breath for.

  “Touch me,” she said hoarsely.

  I knew exactly what she wanted now and I clenched my abdominal muscles, to contain the surge of pleasure and keep it from taking over my belly. I left one hand to continue rubbing the flesh of that gorgeous backside, allowing my fingers to slip into the wet flesh between her legs. Gods, oh Gods, I kept thinking to myself, as Gabrielle arched her back, leaning up on her elbows a bit more to open herself fully to me.

  I was whimpering, but I believe the soft sounds were drowned out by Gabrielle’s moans and pleas for me not to stop. She ground her hips into the mattress to try to force my hand harder against her clit. I remembered the frustrating feeling when that contact wasn’t enough, and she growled in frustration, just as I had.

  “Inside... Gods, get your hand inside me!” she commanded, crying out in ecstasy when I slipped my fingers inside of her.

  She pushed back hard, impaling herself further, nearly on her hands and knees by now. I couldn’t believe how excited I was by it all. It felt just as incredible as when Gabrielle took me in the same manner.

  I kept in perfect sync with her thrusting back against me, matching the exact speed her hips dictated. My free hand was splayed, the fingers across her backside, moving my thumb along the crack toward her center. I continued that way, back and forth, spreading Gabrielle’s own juices up until she could feel where I was headed. I paused and began to gently rub the puckered flesh, pressing lightly, but not penetrating. Gabrielle’s hips began a swirling motion, pushing back, silently pleading for more.

  I kept up the thrusting of my fingers inside her, feeling the trembling of her limbs indicating her approaching release. I continued to run my thumb back down to pick up more lubrication, returning and pressing a little harder each time.

  “Mistress?” I asked, requesting permission exactly as she had.

  Gabrielle groaned. I knew that feeling. You wanted to say no, but it was as if someone else was controlling your body.

  “Gods, yes!” she cried out.

  Finally, I paused and pushed against the reluctant opening, my thumb covered in Gabrielle’s silky wetness and in one smooth motion, I penetrated that tight opening with my thumb. I could feel my digit slide in, easily penetrating that wet warmth. I proceeded to do what Gabrielle did to me, fucked me until I thought I couldn’t possibly hold back my own release any longer. She began pushing back hard against both of my hands moving inside her, and when her own screams ripped through her, she fell into the pillows, breathing hard.

  I slowly eased my thumb out, my hand stilled inside her and before the last tremors of her powerful orgasm eased, I was moving my fingers inside her again. I twisted them up high and deep, rubbing the velvety spot inside and she was groaning aloud again. I brought her to another quick release after that, until her body fell forward onto the bed, her lungs needy for air.

  “Mercy,” she sighed in defeat and I smiled inside, not allowing the emotion to be displayed on my face.

  I rose from the bed, cleaned myself, and gulped down half a dozen swallows of ouzo. I was hoping the spirits would send me into Morpheus’ realm quickly, because now I had to go back to bed and prove that I could be a good slave; that I could abstain from my own pleasure. Gods, this was not funny. I had an ache between my legs that I just knew wasn’t going to allow me to simply roll over and fall asleep.

  I moved to the bed and wrapped myself around Gabrielle. “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Mmm hmm,” she murmured.

  She pressed the length of her body back against me and my skin burned where it made contact with hers. “Gods,” I whispered as low as I could.

  “Feel good?” she teased.

  “Ssh
, go to sleep, love,” I said hoarsely, trying to remember all the points of battlefield strategy I learned when younger. I was willing to try anything to get my mind off the pain between my legs.

  Gabrielle pushed back into me, grinding her backside into my mound, which left a damp trail along her skin.

  “Xena... you’re so wet,” she purred.

  I broke out into a cold sweat. That kind of talk was doing nothing to douse my flaming libido. She swirled her hips, backing them into me a little harder this time. I could hear the growl rumbling in my chest before it even voiced itself.

  “Gabrielle,” I leaned closer, practically lying over her, enjoying the contact of practically lying on top of her back, “are you doing that on purpose?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back to me.

  Then I did growl. “Gabrielle... ”

  “Yes, love?” Again the grind.

  “I’m sorry, I admit it... I suck at being a slave.” I relinquished at last.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked as I pressed against her further.

  “Because all I want to do right now is feel you moving under me. Gods, woman, I want you to make me come.”

  I spread my legs, lying nearly completely on top of her, reaching my hand down between our bodies. I was incredibly wet, and couldn’t resist swirling my fingers against my need. I spread myself open and pressed down hard against the firm ass under me, Gabrielle tilting her hips up to increase the pressure. She grabbed my hand and brought it to her lips, and I could only watch and groan as she licked my juices from each finger.

  “Gods, woman!” I cried out.

  I pressed down hard again while sliding myself along her backside. Sparks of pure fire were igniting against my clit as I continued to rub against the soft skin, while Gabrielle continued to press up against me at the same time.

  “Ohhh,” I moaned, “I’m... Gods I’m sorry, baby... this is... going to be... so fast... Oh Gods!” I screamed.

  The convulsions wracked my body and I couldn’t control the way I pressed against Gabrielle’s body, in pain, but unwilling to end the powerful orgasm. When at last the tremors eased, I fell against her, sated and amazed. It was true, I thought to myself, just before sleep claimed me after we whispered our words of love, I was a slave, but to only one thing... my passion for Gabrielle.

  EPILOGUE

  “XENA... ARE YOU all right love?”

  Gabrielle found me in the outer room, peering out the window, down into the garden.

  “Yes, love,” I answered distractedly.

  She slipped her arm around my waist and I realized my head was elsewhere. “I’m sorry, my brain is fixed on something else this morning.”

  “I can see that by the frown,” Gabrielle answered, reaching up on her toes to place a kiss on my cheek.

  I admit, that did make me feel better and my smile told her so.

  “Why are you frowning and why so early?”

  “It has nothing to do with us, my love.” I kissed her forehead and pulled her against me tighter. “We have a visitor.” I pulled back the tapestry to reveal a young man pacing in the garden below.

  He walked back and forth, sat on a bench for a few heartbeats, then bounced up again as if too much energy could not be contained by sitting. He was tall, with a slim waist, and broad shoulders. His long dark hair fell down into his eyes and when he tossed his head back, he revealed sparkling blue eyes. Most would guess him to be nineteen or twenty, but I knew that he was twenty-three summers, in fact, I remembered the day he was born with startling clarity.

  Gabrielle looked at the man, then back at me, and I knew she was wondering.

  “Xena... do you know that young man?” she finally asked.

  I smiled down at her, letting the tapestry fall to cover the window once again.

  “Yes,” I answered. “He’s my son.”

  THE END...

  * * *

  To Be Continued in

  Tale Two: The Petal of the Rose