"Ah, yes." Reaching down to his belt he opened a purse and pulled out a stack of coins that he placed gingerly upon the table. Talia ignored them and sipped her wine. More coins appeared. She sipped delicately once again. Soon a large stack lay upon the table and as the last coin was placed Talia placed her glass down next to them and stood.
Moving to the bedside table she placed three rings on each hand. The rings had tiny silver bells on them and they pealed gloriously as she donned them. Then without a word she began a slow, sinuous dance.
Talia's outfit looked like a billowing gown of sorts but as soon as she moved the gaps between scarves showed like slits revealing her long elegant limbs beneath. Her arms above her head, the rings tinkling a soft rhythm Talia danced a sultry dance that moved her around the empty space in the centre of the room.
The merchant's eyes never left her form, his gaze tracking wherever she wanted it, a flash of leg there, an hint of belly there, she danced and made him dance with her, his eyes the most agile part of him.
Like the dance below in the common room she slowly removed veil after veil. Seemingly by accident they fluttered to the floor showing more and more of her tanned skin. When she was once more down to just the tiny slips covering her breasts and sex Talia moved in very closely to the man.
This time however she let slip the covering of her hair and her long black tresses fell in a cascade down her back and over her delicately muscled shoulders. As her hair fell a soft smell of jasmine filled the area as the spice wafted out from her.
Dancing closer still Talia let her legs spread wide around Shel's where he sat still as a statue. Then she straddled him and began to undulate, simulating riding his cock passionately. As her hands played the gentle bells her fingers explored her body and seemingly accidently pulled the wisps of cloth from her heaving bosom.
Her proud breasts were now exposed, the nipples hard and rosy. The meat of her swells swayed with her movements, the small mounds firm and smooth. Talia squeezed her own perky orbs and moaned softly while her hips lowered and her sex ground down over his.
Lowering her hands Talia began to rub her toned belly, the muscles of her abdomen sharp and defined beneath the silky skin. Her belly encircled by the small chain seemed more bare for the tiny links enclosing it.
Lower still her fingers roamed and the wisps of string holding the silk over her sex fell away and the gauze dropped to his lap revealing the slick pout of her lower lips.
In a simulation of fever, Talia arched her back, hiding her sex from his gaze and then she curled her hips forward sharply letting her glistening slit wink at him. Back and forth she cavorted above him, her juncture leaving small wet marks on his robes where she pressed herself to him.
Then when she could take the teasing no more, Talia fell to her knees before him and lifted his robes. Undoing his small clothes she pulled his rigid member out of its hiding place and engulfed it in her hungry mouth.
By this point Talia was even more aroused than the merchant. Her body ached to be filled, her hungry slot demanded she satisfy it with man meat, but she needed to taste him first. The spear of his flesh slid to the back of her throat and she hummed a soft purr of pleasure, making him jump. With one hand she pumped his tool into her happy mouth, while she plunged the fingers of her other hand in and out of her grasping slit.
When she felt him grow tense with the need to climax she stood up letting his wet cock fall from her saliva covered lips and she went to the large bed and lay down on it, her body open to him, her legs spread wide.
He came to her, pulling his clothes off in a rush, and soon he lay atop her and plunged himself deeply into her steaming depths. Talia cried out a real cry of passion as he filled her needy chasm. And while he began to pump himself into her she had a climax of her own. As her passion tore sanity from her mind like one of her veils, she clawed at him like a cat, her short dull nails trying to rip him, which was one of the reasons they were so short.
When her orgasm subsided Talia opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her with a glazed expression, one of his hands cupped her breast, massaging it, and the other held him up over her as he drove himself into her hard.
Talia lifted a leg up over his hip and with a twist and a push flipped him over on his back, his member still wedged deeply inside her hole. The shocked look on his face made her smile inwardly. He hadn't expected that sort of strength from her, she looked so delicate. Now Talia rode him setting the pace. She bucked quickly up and down on him, stopping every few plunges to grind her sensitive button down onto his pubic bone, thrilling her body.
His large hands reached up and began to both massage her tender mounds, making her sigh with lust. Milking him with her strong inner muscles, making him moan, she drew his seed from the depths of his heavy sack and she felt his rod swell up as he fought off his need to orgasm.
Talia dismounted and pulled his hand to make him sit up, then stand. Then she fell to her knees before him on the floor and took his member into her mouth once more. With her hands she showed him what she wanted. Taking one she placed it on her head, the other she placed on his shaft and she began to stroke him with it, while he was still in her mouth. Then he took over and masturbated himself into her willing orifice.
When he was doing it on his own Talia took her own hands and began to stoke his thighs and massage his testicles. Then with a grunt the merchant began to shoot his thick sperm into her mouth. As soon as the first gout spurted out onto her tongue Talia pulled her face back and put her hand over his to keep him pumping. She then aimed his cock at her face and made him shoot his seed onto her upturned features. Ropes of ejaculate sprayed out across her beautiful visage and Shel gave a long low moan as he did so. Looking up at him as his seed spilled over her Talia saw him looking down at her with a shocked expression, his face flushed and his teeth gritted.
She had discovered over the years that men loved to abase a woman like her, and she had grown to love it as well. The moment a man spilled out over her face it made her have her own climax. Something in the demeaning nature of it thrilled her.
As Shel's sperm trickled down over her lips Talia licked it delicately allowing the pungent flavor to fill her mouth while her hips juddered a new kind of dance. One she could barely contain. Gasping with pleasure she relished the hot spray of his sperm as it drizzled over her cheeks and into her open mouth.
When he had spent himself she took his phallus into her mouth one more time and suckled him, pulling the very last drops of his essence into her thirsty mouth. The final tremors of her orgasm subsided and then, reluctantly, she let him plop out and she sat back on her heels.
She looked up at him and saw the now familiar mixed gaze of wonder, satisfaction and disgust. These Northern men couldn't understand how she could abase herself like this. Their proud women apparently never wasted an opportunity to get pregnant, so dangerous their births. Medicine here lacked the knowledge her people had procured over thousands of years of civilization.
When the merchant left her there, on the floor still kneeling, his sperm slowly drying on her face, Talia rose, and dressed. Not in the gauze, but in armor. She exchanged her jewels for steel, and her silk for studded leather.
Garbed as a warrior she slid her twin blades out of their scabbards to check the blades for any marks.
There were none, she kept very, very good care of her blades.
When she was ready to leave, having gathered the coins in a pouch, Talia finally wiped the mess from her face, and the greatest swordswoman in the North left the room of her humiliation. Her fame as Talia the sword for hire far outstripped the growing fame of Dancer the Woman of Wonder, for now, but Dancer was becoming very well known, even if nearly impossible to find.
The Dancer only danced when she wanted to, and only took to her bed those whom she chose. Somehow anyone who ever sought harm against her was found dead and she vanished. The legend was growing.
None saw either The Dancer or the grim faced warrior leave the building; sh
e was a Shadow Dancer they said, a Mistress of the Dark who changed her appearance at will, and gathered Shadows to do her bidding.
However it was done she slipped into the night before any thought to knock on the door to see to the Dancer's needs.
Two famous women, both enigmas, both dangerous, and desirable, both the same woman.
The End.
Wake-Up Call
She woke abruptly and cried out at the stinging slap to her cheek. As she tried to rub the lingering pain away she realized her hands wouldn't move from above her head. Despite her eyes shooting open when she felt the blow she couldn't see a thing. Turning her head to look around it finally dawned on her that this wasn't just the darkness of night. She was blindfolded. There was no glow of streetlights through curtains, no flickering numbers from her alarm clock.
She pulled again at her arms, wondering what her wrists were anchored to and feeling the bars of a metal headboard. This wasn't her bed. She kicked and struggled more, trying to dislodge the blindfold and whatever it was that held her wrists captive. As she twisted her wrists she felt the bindings flex around her skin before the edges started digging in. Something wide and soft then, maybe leather . Her legs were still free and as she kicked out she felt the blanket over her body slip, cold air flowing over one side of her chest. She stilled at the sound of a low laugh from the foot of the bed, suddenly remembering what she'd missed in her panic at being restrained. Someone was here, someone who had slapped her to wake her up. The same someone who had tied her to a strange bed and blindfolded her.
"Who's there? What do you want?"
The only reply was another laugh, this one louder, coming from closer to her head. She spun her head round trying to track the strangers movements. Her head span with the movement and she remembered the drinks she'd had at the party last night. She'd been with friends. People she'd known for years, it couldn't be one of them. They would have got her home safe no matter what.
There was a rush of cold air over her body as the sheet disappeared. She could feel that she was still wearing her underwear and was briefly glad of this before she felt a pair of scissors cutting into the front of her bra then moving up to the straps, removing that layer of protection. She whimpered and started to cry when the remnants scraped under her back as they were pulled away, the ends of the underwires leaving burning lines on her skin.
"Please don't do this, let me go and I wont tell anyone. Please just let me leave!" she begged.
She felt a finger pressed against her lips and heard a gentle shushing sound as the fingers of another hand stroked against her nipple.
"Please just untie me, please. I just want to go!" she moaned as little shocks travelled through her from the stroking fingers.
The hands left her briefly and her body arched up following the slow retreat of the fingers from her breast even as she breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed to be listening to her. A sharp pain from a pinch to her nipple made her gasp suddenly and something was shoved in her mouth and tied round her head. She bit down and felt a rubber ball stretching her jaw open, preventing her from speaking as she groaned around it. She felt her pussy getting wetter as the pressure stayed on her nipple and the gag filled her mouth. Both were feelings she was familiar with and loved during play, but that was with people she had trusted, not some stranger who had bound her in an unknown place. It definitely couldn't be someone from the party. They didn't know about this part of her.
The finger returned to her lips again, once more she was shushed as she felt a clamp attached to her other nipple. She moaned quietly and tried not to squirm as there was a quick tug on the clamps, which seemed to be connected by a chain. She felt both hands run over her body, lingering at the bottom of her stomach then lifting and returning to run over her thighs. Despite her arousal she knew she should be trying to get away. She kicked out trying to pull away from the hands.
She panicked as she felt herself being manhandled before landing on her stomach, her arms twisted above her head. Her panties were pulled roughly down to her knees and an open hand landed repeated blows on her backside. She screamed around the ball gag, moaning loudly as she got more and more aroused. The smacks slowed down, the strong hand rubbing her backside in between each stroke. She moaned harder, lifting her backside to press against his hand as he rubbed the sore skin.
Her arse burned as more blows scattered across it, her nipples on fire from the clamps pressing into the mattress. As the blows stopped she felt short nails pressing into her skin and raking over the bruised flesh. There was breath in her ear as she whimpered and pressed her backside up against the nails.
"Are you going to be a good girl now?" The voice whispered in her ear. It was familiar, deep and playful. It held an underlying threat of what would happen if she wasn't, but rather than feeling threatened her insides turned over at the tone. She nodded quickly, grinding herself against the sheets, desperate for him to touch her again, even if it was to spank her. Perhaps especially for that. Without his hands on her she was going crazy. There was a pulling at the back of her head and the gag popped out of her mouth. She stretched her jaw and pressed her face into the pillow.
"Do you still want me to let you go?" She felt his hands on the restraints at her wrists and shook her head, half ashamed at her answer as she tried to place the familiar voice. She knew it but all she could focus on was the pain in her arse and the desperation for more of anything to happen.
"Do you still want me to let you go!" he said more sternly, his voice more familiar with every word, his tone stern, demanding an answer.
"N-no Sir..." Her voice was hoarse from her moans and cries, but she knew from his tone the words he wanted to hear. The title he expected and deserved.
"Good girl," he stroked her hair away from her face and she pressed her cheek to his hand. "Now tell me what you do want."
She shook her head and his fingers wrapped around her hair pulling her head up sharply. She groaned and licked her lips but he remained firm, waiting for an answer.
"I want you to touch me sir. I... I want you to fuck me..." she whispered.
His hands stroked her hair smooth and he chuckled. He smacked her arse again just once more, but harder than before. It stung the already sore skin. He flipped her back over and pulled her panties all the way off before shoving two fingers into her. She bucked up to meet his hand and panted as he stroked her.
"Very good girl, such a good little whore ready to be fucked..." He pulled the clamps off her nipples and she screamed.
She felt the bed dip as he climbed up and pulled he hand away again. He bit and licked on her still tender nipples and she arched her body up to press her breasts more firmly to his lips and tongue as they explored. He bit hard one last time before pushing her knees up to her chest and thrusting into her hard. She moaned loudly as he stilled, sunk to the hilt inside her. She whimpered and bucked her hips, desperate for movement. He kissed her hard and started moving slowly, gradually building up speed as she wrapped her legs around him. She came as he bit back down on her breasts, the pain from her nipple, the soreness of her arse pressing into the mattress with his thrusts and the feel of him inside her finally overwhelming her.
He pounded harder, picking up the pace as she moaned louder still, riding her orgasm. She locked her ankles behind his back, gripping the bar of the headboard where her arms remained tied. She met his thrusts, whimpering and crying out. She felt him tense as she came again, bucking wildly. He rammed in hard one last time and stayed buried deep as he came, pressing his face into her shoulder. She pulled on her restraints, wishing she could run her hands down his back or remove her blindfold. Instead she settled under his weight as he lay on top of her, relishing the pleasure, which still rolled through her and enjoying the feel of him twitching inside her as his orgasm finished
His hands reached up to her face and pulled away the blindfold. She blinked at the sudden bright daylight, realizing it must be much later than she had thought then grinned a
s she focused on his face.
"You know, all that flirting over the last few years and I avoided taking it further in case what I wanted to do to you scared you. Can't believe I never got you drunk enough to admit your fantasies before." He laughed in her ear. "When you crashed out drunk it was the perfect excuse to keep you here when everyone left without starting gossip" he murmured. "Got me a bit scared when you were begging me to let you go but after that kiss and everything we talked about I knew you'd be disappointed if I stopped."
She grinned again and nuzzled his neck, still too overwhelmed to talk as he untied her hands. She wasn't about to admit she couldn't remember last night after arriving at the party, but she'd gladly admit she would have missed out if he'd listened to her and stopped.
The End.
The Therapist Is In
"Her legs look like a road map! Their cover in veins." He tells me angrily.
"You use to say it was a road map to paradise." She says hotly.
"Yea then I followed that map and ended up in Death Valley. There are places there you could get out of with a GPS and a four wheel drive!" He screams back at her.
If you can imagine this is the kind of things I listen to for a living. I get paid to help people get through their marital troubles.
Take Mr. and Mrs. Williams here. They hate the ground each other walks on. They can't stand each other. To be in the same room is to be arguing. They have been screaming at each other for more than three decades!
And my job is to make them not get a divorce when I think it would probably be the best thing for the both of them. Hell they should have been divorced when I was ten!
I've seen it all. Husbands cheating on wives. Wives cheating on husbands. And every flavor in between.
I've had both try to even get with me. They said in school that it would happen. People always fall for their therapist.
"He couldn't get his dick hard with four Viagra and a can of fix a flat!" I listen with out comment as Mrs. Williams yells
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