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Breathless

By: Lily_Wretched



- For Jay -

As I ascend the stairs my only companions are the sounds of my own breathing and the staccato clicking of my black stiletto heels echoing off the poorly-painted walls of our motel. This is the place we have been planning to meet for four years now. The air is stale and coarse, slipping in and out of my nostrils in an unpleasant, irregular pattern. I am surprisingly calm tonight, but my mind is racing with the thoughts of what will happen as soon as I enter that room.

You greet me at the door, leaning casually against the peeling wooden frame until our eyes meet. Like a soldier called to attention you jerk your body immediately into a rigid, upright position, almost as if my mere presence is a reprimand. Your eyes are downcast as I strut toward you, and I can feel a proud and curious smile forming on my lips as you take a few cautious steps backwards into the room. Anyone who did not know you would mistake such mannerisms as shyness or uneasiness, but I know you too well to think such things. 

I step over the threshold, and am welcomed by a gust of chilled air blasting from the rattling AC unit that hangs awkwardly from the window. You step quickly out of my way as I push past you, glancing around the room and digging my hand down into my purse. A word between us is yet to be spoken, the silence of the room broken only momentarily by the snapping sound of my lighter as I ignite a cigarette and turn slowly to face you.

"Nice choice of a room." My esophagus burns as the smoke curls up and out while I speak. You smile meekly and a look of intense concentration furrows your brow as you eye my lips. I catch myself smirking again, and turn away from you, walking to the window. I survey the room as I cross its expanse: a king-size bed with noticeably unclean sheets, asymmetrical stains decorate the carpet, an unwelcoming arm chair rests carelessly in the only open corner of the room. I peer through the heavy curtains, though I cannot claim to see anything in the darkness outside. Your eyes are on me- I can feel it- but I ignore you intentionally.

"I brought something for you," I do not look away from the window as I speak, holding the curtains gently parted so that a sliver of a nearby streetlight throws itself across my face. Without waiting for a response from you, I glance over at you and smile mischievously.

I reach into my purse once more and pull out a roll of duct tape.

"Surprise!" I shout, tossing it forcefully at your chest. You fumble awkwardly with it, but do not drop it. I chuckle playfully. "Don't act like you don't know what it's for, sweetheart. I can see the box of plastic wrap sticking out from under the bed. Somehow I knew you'd need just this one more thing."

You look startled and slightly embarrassed, blushing tenderly. Even though you know I am just as enthralled by the fetish as you are, you are still apprehensive about finally sharing the act with another person. It takes a moment for you to relax and remember why we are here. We are here for each other, and we both know it, though the words are never spoken.

Once you appeared to have calmed yourself, I take a few steps forward and move in on you-slowly- like a hunting lioness, holding my face ever closer to yours, smoke curling from my lips like a family of gray snakes, creeping up and around your blushing face. 

The moment comes when no space is left between us, and I press my hips against yours firmly, though not touching you with any other part of my body. There is barely enough room for me to take another drag from my cigarette, but I do it anyways, bringing the slow-burning embers within millimeters of your chin as I place the white cylinder between my lips. I release another heavy, tobacco-laden breath so close to your lips and nose that you may as well be smoking this cigarette yourself. The subtle lip-prints left on the end of the filter are black; a shadow of where my dark lipstick has clung to the pale paper.

You are mesmerized. You could never convince me that you were anything else at that particular moment. Your eyelids flutter weakly, and I scoff softly, forcing more smoke up from my lungs and down into yours.

"What are you waiting for? Get rid of those fucking clothes. If you think I'm going to let you waste my time, you're sadly mistaken." 

Nodding meekly, you peel your clothing off, turning your back to me as you do so. You spin around quickly, however, upon the loud snap that is released as I adjust a white latex surgical glove over my right hand. A slight smile puckers on your lips, as it does on mine, but I immediately catch myself.

"Keep going, don't look at me."

You barely finish undressing before you hear my footsteps approaching you at a ferocious speed. Before you can catch a glimpse of my actions, I shove you face first down onto the grungy bed; the air forced out of your lungs as you collide with the firm mattress. I laugh loudly at your surprise, climbing up onto the bed behind you, strattling your backside sloppily and mashing your face into the filthy pillow with a strong and confident hand.

Naturally, your arms move to attempt to lift your face out of the fabric to catch your breath. Still holding my hand fast against the back of your head, I grab your left wrist with my available palm, restricting your motion. I lean forward and release more smoke into your face again. Your first air after the impact is itchy with the stench.

"What do you think, you little slut?" I whisper, "You think I'm going to let you move? You don't have any power here- only I do. Now don't be a bitch and give me any trouble. Just do what I want you to and I won't hurt you too badly, ok?" I can feel your head nod in resigned understanding. I cannot help but feel like this is going to be a lovely evening after all.

I lessen the pressure of my hold for a moment as I lean down over the edge of the bed, fumbling for the roll of plastic wrap I had seen peeking out from under the bed when I first arrived. My fingers grasp it and as I sit back up you can feel the rough grade of my stockings chafing your flanks. I lean down toward your ear again, pressing my upper body down onto your bare back. The fabric of my shirt is coarse, and you can feel the stiff presence of a corset through the thin top. I hear you release a soft whimper.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time, you know," I say softly. "You, me... this," I run my hands down the roll. The plastic squeals loudly; impatiently; longingly. You cringe slightly at the sound, and I can feel your heart beating between my knees. "I know you have too, haven't you?"

For whatever reason, you do not respond. Perhaps it is too much for you; perhaps you are afraid of me. I could care less about your logic behind not responding, and wait for a mere moment before angrily mashing your face into the pillow once again. I release you, removing my hand from the back of your head to the front of your neck, grasping the taut flesh beneath your chin and forcing your head up and toward my chest. I can only assume that such a position is extremely uncomfortable- your spine bent at such a strange angle and your throat smashed against my palm. 

"Don't fuck with me with little quiet spells, you piece of shit," I hiss, releasing my grip quickly and allowing your face to fall once more, again taking your breath away. I dig my nails into your left shoulder and begin to pull at you, rolling you onto your back. The skin breaks under my long, claw-like nails, and I can see you grimace as you lay flat beneath me. When you open your eyes, you are greeted by my cruel smile- dark lipstick framing white teeth, black eye shadow lining cold blue eyes.

I allow you to catch your breath for a moment; your chest rising and falling rapidly, a vein in your neck bulging and pulsing subtly. I chuckle softly and lean over the edge of the bed again, snuffing my cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. I sit back up with the pack in my hand, pull another out and toss the box onto the table. Lighting the stick with gloved hands, I speak calmly.

"You'd better get all the air you can now, sweetie. You're about to be in a whole world of hurt."

And with that, I toss the lighter in a random direction and grasp your throat once more, using my entire body weight to constrict your air flow- my fingers encased in latex, the sterile smell creeping into your nostrils as they flare, searching frantically for air. 

I watch you with amused eyes and a crooked smile, cigarette pursed between midnight lips, smoke billowing out of my nostrils systematically. Your lips, too, are pursed shut, and I know that you will keep them as such for as long as you can, purposely depriving yourself of air until the temptation of an open-mouthed gasp will finally be too strong. 

Calmly I watch your face as said temptation grows exponentially. Balling up the plastic wrap with my free hand; watching and waiting, knowing it will only be a moment more. The pink hue to your face slowly becomes a red, and then, as the slightest hint of purplish-green begins to show itself on your face, your expression splits and your mouth blows open like a wind tunnel, sucking in as much oxygen as is readily available. Your lungs fill greedily for a split second- about the time of half a breath- before I fill your mouth with a fist-sized wad of the synthetic material. 

The plastic sticks to your tongue and the backs of your teeth as I push it as deep into your oral cavity as is physically possible for you. I move quickly, pulling crudely at your lips, attempting to shut them over your over-stuffed mouth before slapping a strap of duct tape over your discolored and dry skin. I add two more straps to the pile, covering your mouth generously. 

I observe you as I do all this, and laugh boisterously at your expression.

"You'd better breathe through your nose while you can, dumb-shit! I'm about to cover that too!"

Your nostrils flare helplessly for as long as they can before I tightly secure a strap of tape over your nose as well. I roughly examine my handiwork by tugging and pulling at the tape on your face, checking quickly to make sure no air can seep through the creases of the tape.

"Look at you!" I laugh again, reaching for the plastic wrap and unraveling a little more. "You're all pink! You look so stupid; I wish you could see yourself right now! You're such a whore!"

Continuing to laugh hysterically, I begin to tightly encircle your throbbing head with plastic, smashing your nose down, constricting every muscle in your face. After three layers or so of the wrap, I tear it off from the roll and begin to unroll another dose of duct tape around your straining neck.

"You know what's funny? Here I have all the air I want, and I'm not even breathing it! I'm smoking instead; wasting my precious air. Doesn't that just make you so mad?" 

I roll the tape around your neck twice, knowing that my masterpiece is now complete: sealed and airtight. I lean back and admire my work proudly as you squirm and jerk around beneath me. Occasionally I can feel the presence of your engorged cock, pressing upwards against the insides of my thighs, but I refuse to touch any inch of you while you are like this. 

Instead I simply sit back, an arm folded across my chest, taking casual drags from my smoldering cigarette and laughing hysterically as your body jerks more and fore furiously.

I slide off the bed and stand beside it, looking down on you with an amused and taunting expression on my face.

"I can breathe, and you can't!" I sing playfully over and over again, leaning over only to blow smoke at your distorted features through the bizarre encasement you are wearing.

"You can't possibly stay like that for much longer," I say, chuckling cruelly, stretching my leg out, up and over the bed and jabbing you in the side with the jagged point of my pencil-thin heel. "I can't imagine you can take much more before you black out."

I retract my leg and reach down, smacking you across your swollen, sweaty, plastic cheeks. "That's what you'll do, isn't it? You'll black out like a pussy, without even getting off because I won't touch you and I won't let you touch yourself! You'd love it if I touched you, wouldn't you? You don't need air; you need me to touch you. Or is it the other way around? Oh well, I don't suppose we'll ever know because you can't very well talk while you're all wrapped up like that, now can we?"

I know you have refrained from touching my work for as long as you can stand, but it is only natural for your fingers to wander up to your neck sooner or later. Such an action implies that it is time for you to breathe, and I cannot keep myself from laughing almost to the brink of tears as I watch you panic and struggle to set yourself free. 

After what must have felt like ages for you, you are free and you lay very still- save the relieved rising and falling of your chest. Your eyes are closed; your mouth is agape, your expression is pained and relieved all at once, your face is discolored and slightly swollen... and I can honestly say that I have never seen anyone look sexier than you do right now...

Breathless



Your heart. Beating. Waiting for what I do next. Breathless. Willful. That is what you have been, slut. I hear your heart beating faster. Faster as I pull you by your collar to the floor before me. Faster, as I hold you firmly in place at my knees. Faster as I look you over with my dark eyes. Faster, as I make you lick my black leather high heel boots. Faster, as I watch you scramble to cover every piece with your tongue, worried about the consequences should you miss a millimeter.

And there will be consequences, slut.

You tire me.

Stand up. Turn around. Bend over.

Deeper. Spread your cheeks.

Whose ass is this?

"Yours Maitresse."

Oui, it is mine. But you seem to have forgotten what that means, my dear slut.

When your ass belongs to Maitresse, it belongs to no one else--not even you. Do you understand?

"Oui Maitress."

Tell me what you are?

"Yours Maitresse."

My what?

"Your slut, Maitresse."

And what does a slut do, slut?

"He gives himself wholly to Maitresse."

Correct. But you have not yet given yourself in that way. Not completely, not deeply. That is why Maitresse does not fuck you, as you desire to be fucked, up your tight ass, your waiting, wanting, tight little ass. There is nothing that you desire more than to be fucked in this way. Am I right, slut? "Oui Maitress."

Nothing you desire more than to have Maitresse fuck you good and hard with her huge "cock" as you lie helpless, dressed as her femme on the bed, your stockings ripped and your lipstick smeared like the wothless slut that you are. Open and waiting for her to tell you that you are her slut, worthless.

Give me your belt.

Bend over the chair. "Oui Maitress."

Deeper. Spread your cheeks. Show me your ass. Cup your balls in your hand. Let me see them move. I want your cock hard. "Oui Maitress."

Release your hand.

I slide the belt up between your legs, pressing on your cock and balls, creating an edge up the crack of your ass. I pull it tight. Tighter. I watch you squirm. "Merci Maitress."

I pull the belt out quickly, before you know what is happening. I hit you with full force across your ass--once, twice, three, ... ten...twenty times. The red welts rise up on your raw skin. "merci Maitresse."

I take my hand and run it softly over your ass, caressing it as an open display of what you are: a worthless slut, here to amuse me and do my bidding. Nothing more.

Stand up. Crawl into your cage. "Oui Maitress."

I leave you, in the dark, waiting, awaiting my return. Hours or what seem like days go by. You dare not sleep. You wait only for the sound of my heels in the hall. That familiar sound of salvation, redemption. "She has not forgotten me."

I enter the room. You rise to all fours. I stand over your cage. My little animal. How I wish you would amuse me more, then I could spare you.

I open the door. Crawl to me. "Oui Maitresse." You come close to my feet, your eyes focused on my red toes. You may lick them. Merci Maitresse.

I blindfold you. Push you to the ground with my foot. Press on your chest with my heel. Pull the collar tight, tighter, until you choke. I like to hear you gasping, begging me to stop, to spare you. Then I release. 

This is what you want, right, slut? To feel close to your own death? You try to answer, but I pull the collar tighter. 

It is only close to death that you feel truly alive. To feel that She may bring to an end your masochism and groveling. But most of all bring to an end all the false pretences of modern-day romance and Hollywood happy-endings. Finally, bring to an end the dating game and the charade of "normal sexual desire." 

That point where you are still breathing, but breathless, wondering whether She will allow you to take that next breath, or end your miserable existence now. That is the point that you live for, isn't it slut?

For what have you done to deserve Her mercy, slut?

Why should She not stuff your mouth with her black panties, push them down your waiting throat with her black heel, and watch while you expire? Why should She not spank you with Her belt until your ass is a mass of red welts, until you fear for your life? Why should She not shove a dildo deep up your waiting ass until you feel split in half?

What possible reason do you have for remaining alive, save one.

To please Her.

But you do not please me, slut. You bore me. You bore me terribly.

Try to save yourself if you can.



Breathless



Story Codes/Notes

medieval, slavery, degradation, humiliation, fear, passion,

Please do not reprint this work on any other website, or any medium, without explicit consent from the author (me!).

Info: The Story builds up slowly, those who have read my last submission know I prefer to show the inner workings of the protagonists. This is not a BDSM story, although some parts might touch the genre. (For all the kind feedbacks on my first submission -- it really encourages writing more, thank you!)

Enjoy!

Additional info EDITED VERSION:

The original version of this story was submitted prematurely. I should have waited some time, to find mistakes and edit it properly. Readers have rightfully complained about its formal shortcomings. I took their advice and asked DawnJ to be my editor. She was kind enough to help. Thanks for your understanding.

Synopsis

An enslaved former noblewoman dances in front of her new Lord. Though relentlessly abused, and trained for the occasion to perform in front of her new Master, taught to never look higher than his neck, she is surprised by the Nordic Lords command "Mírame" in her native Spanish.

Transferred

The two sturdy women shuffled her along. She almost fell, but was quickly picked up by strong hands steadying her; again women's voices were heard in the yard shouting orders authoritatively. It had become second nature to her to do what was commanded. The luxurious dark purplish-red cape which she had been given only insufficiently shielded her from the ice-cold corridors of the Nordic stronghold. Her feet had been enwrapped in leathery shoes to provide minimum protection from the frozen ground, but otherwise she was bare of any clothing. Her guardians didn't give her time to observe the surroundings, as liberating as that might have been after month of confinement. It was the first time since her arrival that she had been brought outside her lone imprisonment in the underground caverns, although the enormous walls surrounding the keep, and the vastness of the place, only reinforced her feeling of smallness and insignificance.

When they reached the stairs leading to the nobles' chambers, the small group of women was stopped by grim-looking guards. Although the hooded cape veiled her beautiful face from the glaring stares of the Norsemen, she kept her eyes to the ground, in order not to provoke any unnecessary attention. She was terrified by those men, terrified by what they had done to her entourage, her people. There was a brief exchange; the guards started to laugh and gave way to the women. Accustomed to not understanding in detail what was said, she knew that it was she who motivated their laughter, and she was reminded of the purpose of her transfer. Her heart again began to rush, a large lump forming in her throat; she had to fight the urge to vomit.

The small group finally slowed down their pace and started to ascend. Torches illuminated the otherwise dark set of steps, circling the tower. It was slowly getting warmer, which meant less suffering for the Mediterranean beauty, still unaccustomed to this hostile environment. She was stopped by her two guardians after they reached a larger hall, and ordered to remove the leathery protections which until then shielded her feet from the cold surface. While handing them to her captors, she suddenly saw her palanquin parked, looking abandoned in the vastness of the hall. Her eyes became clouded, filled with sorrow and pain for her lost rank, and for the memories of former blissful times. Then she was blindfolded, her tears now hidden.

Flanked by both women, she was pushed forward. The cold stone floor served as a reminder of her inhospitable surroundings. Then, unexpectedly, there it was -- a sudden whiff of familiarity, a scent almost forgotten, reminiscent of home.

"It must be the palanquin," she mused, deliberately taking in a deep breath. "Yes!"

The cold air of the hall was indeed mixed with a slight fragrance of foreign origin. She started to tremble, her awareness abruptly intensified, desperately trying to hold on to what was once her own. With the usual rudeness she had come to expect from her tormenters, she was shoved into the carriage. Nothing had been changed in the palanquin; the comfortable cushions were still arranged the same way she preferred and, more importantly, smelled like her, a scent she had forgotten, one deeply buried in her memory, now instantaneously reactivated. The unexpected reminder of something she had once possessed filled her with pride, gave her much needed strength and induced the will to endure what undoubtedly was to come...because tonight it was her turn to entertain the Lord.

Since she had nothing but her womanly charms, and those were obviously not valued highly in this strange land, the female wardens had rigorously taught her how to please a Nordic Master she had never seen once.

She perceived soft noises of what could only be other servants approaching the palanquin. Several muted commands were given, and she felt the carriage being lifted. The usual wobbly feeling she got when carried inside this symbol of nobility made her relax a little, the first time since she had been rudely awakened this morning and had grasped that the dreadful day had finally arrived.

*

She had suspected it the previous evening, when she was denied her usual ration of food, though it had only been a hunch, a brief curiosity prompted by her unbroken ability to observe and reflect her environment.

Since any decorum she had become accustomed to for her whole life was long lost in the basements of this -- as she now realized - huge fortress, her two wardens watched her defecate in the morning, expected her to clean herself under their watchful eyes, their usual distaste visible in their broad faces. She was then told to remove all clothing and present herself.

She hated it. It was like telling a dog to sit next to its master, and to stay, with no power to question the logic of the command. They treated her as if she were an animal in training. She understood the reason -- the language barrier made communications with her difficult, so the enforcement of a new social order had to be made clear through the use of rudimental commands that even a dumb animal could understand. In her case, it meant either the minimum in personal freedom, or pain enforced through cruel punishment.

The command to present herself wasn't to adopt a specific position, which she had to assume in order to be inspected -- that would be enough for an animal to grasp. No, she had to make herself available to her captors, to give them unhindered access to her very body and its functions. The degrading part was her implicit compliance by her surrendering of her body to someone else. For example, to move her bowel, she had to widen her stance, lower the upper part of her body, grasp the cheeks of her bottom and spread them for as long as necessary. But that wasn't all. Her head had to be up high, her body graceful in appearance, worthy of her former nobility, and yet she was being observed like a child not ready to control its bodily discharges.

When the stronger of the two wardens tied her hands behind her back, she understood something new was to come. The meaner one, who never gave her any response other than utter contempt, suddenly produced a flexible tube with a phallic nozzle attached to it. With the usual sadistic pleasure that this dreadful woman had always shown to her, she slowly greased her left hand with lard, and then formed a fist which she slowly inserted into the phallic nozzle to lubricate it. She made it look as if it was hard for her fist to open up to the pumping motion of the nozzle, smiling deceitfully. Her smile turned to a broader grin, when she realized the captive understood what was about to happen.

But the warden had inadvertently given the observant Spaniard a helpful hint to reduce the discomfort she was about to induce. She tried to relax her bottom, but couldn't, because of the sudden stress prompted by the realization that she was prepared for the special occasion she had been frightened of for such a long time. Every orifice in her beautiful body was going to be prepared to be used when so desired by the Lord, which included parts not necessarily designed for that purpose, and had therefore to be cleaned of the less arousing byproducts it usually contained.

While the stronger one spread her cheeks, exposing her untarnished sphincter, the sadist forced the phallic object past the tight barrier, which was unable to reject the forced intrusion into her rectum. She grunted, and tried to rear up to repel the assault, but was unable to do so by the brute force of her jailers. The pain made her pant. She was slapped hard on her buttocks and ordered to be silent. She knew if she resisted even the slightest, they would only become crueler and would inflict even more pain. So she bit her lips and tried to accommodate the violation, shedding tears in anger and pain.

The sadist then proceeded to pour liquid through a funnel until her stomach visibly distended and she had the feeling her intestines would burst. They made her hold the liquid for several unbearably grueling minutes, before finally allowing her to noisily evacuate into a bucket, mocking her, laughing at her, ridiculing her degrading situation. She was just glad her ordeal was over, for the moment.

The strong one untied her wrists and again commanded her to assume the presenting posture. She complied immediately. The sadist held her nose in a mocking fashion and told her she better clean up, subtle hinting another round of punishment, then they brought several buckets containing cold water and left.

*

The palanquin had come to a stop. She heard the authoritarian voice of a woman unknown to her uttering commands to several servants at once, felt the curtains move, and then was ungently lifted out of her carriage. She sensed the presence of the mysterious woman close to her and, by the vocal reaction of her two tormenters, judged her to be in a much higher position than they were. The sadist unhooked her cape and took it, leaving her standing naked.

She felt the strange woman struggling to suppress her rage, obviously not pleased by her appearance, but finally directing her anger towards her tormenters. The speed and eloquence of her speaking indicated she was a Nordic noblewoman. She didn't understand a single word that was said, but understood that the state of her appearance was obviously not appreciated.

She was getting cold, shivering. Afraid to move she stood silently, still blindfolded. The activity around her had increased. Several candles must have been brought into the room because she saw the influx in light through the blindfold. Finally, she was wrapped in a warming blanket.

Prepared

She didn't comprehend fully what was going on around her, but by the pace of the activity and the quickness with which each command was executed, it became clear to her that the woman now in charge wielded considerable power. She would be cleaned and groomed according to the instructions of that woman who deemed her not presentable in her current state; that much she had understood. Unable to observe her surroundings, but still wrapped in the blanket, which for the first time actually warmed her enough so she forgot she was in the land of snow, ice and even colder winds, she managed to focus her senses on what was going on.

She felt the room becoming warmer and more humid by the minute. Small pearls of sweat started to form on her forehead, and her toes began to ache, so that she finally grasped in what poor state she was, since she obviously hadn't realized that they had slowly been freezing during the grueling daylong tribulation by her tormenters. She had been solely focused on enduring their painful torture, and her body must have shut down some of its functions, in order to survive on what energy was left. She tried to forget the day's horrible events and concentrate on the moment, to save her strength, because she was convinced this was only an intermezzo in her ongoing struggle to survive.

The sweet scent of spices unknown to her began to engulf the room. There were still servants circling with what she assumed were buckets of warm water, emptying them into a large container, which she suspected was a bathtub.

"I'm going to have my first bath in months," she concluded gladly, as only one of noble birth who had been denied a perceived birthright for such a long time might think. Before she could contemplate that thought any further, the blanket was removed and two soft hands guided her a few steps forward and then stopped her. Her feet welcomed the soft touch of a carpet. Although again completely naked, she wasn't cold anymore.

The familiar order to present herself was given by the woman in charge. She widened her stand, leaving sufficient distance between her legs, to give unhindered access to her sex and bottom. She raised her arms and folded her hands behind her head. The woman approached her. She could smell her. She smelled nice, exclusive; a fragrance of roses combined with some unknown Nordic herb was mixed with the woman's own body odors. There was sudden silence in the room; all activity had stopped. She imagined all eyes in the room now focused on her and feelings of shame, embarrassment, and vulnerability made her swallow uncomfortably.

A soft touch on her belly interrupted the unbearable silence and made her jump. "Ssssh!" murmured the woman, not unpleasantly, but still like one would do to prevent a horse from panicking. She was told to resume the assigned stance and deduced from her tone that she would not be hurt by this woman, but was expected to follow every command immediately.

She positioned herself once more. Again, silence. The woman touched her again. This time, she cupped her breasts, caressed them softly, circling her areola in a slow but steady motion, pinching her nipples, forcing them to swell. She was ashamed not being able to prevent that from happening. Obviously satisfied by her breasts' reaction, the woman stopped the manipulations and slowly lowered her fingers towards her sex, but stopped just short of her pubic hair. The woman seemed to hesitate.

Another moment of silence passed. She heard the woman sniffing her; she seemed genuinely concerned about her current state. Finally, the noblewoman gave meticulous instructions on how she was to be washed and groomed, how to treat her wounds from the beatings she had received during the day, and how everything had to be done thoroughly, but in a gentle fashion, not like the pigs in the dungeons. She raised her voice again, which made it clear that any deviation would be punished mercilessly. It was clear to the Iberian beauty that she would never want to antagonize this woman, and she was glad the threat was not directed against her. The noblewoman left.

The room had been darkened as several candles were moved elsewhere. She felt hands untying the blindfold, and she slowly opened her eyes, allowing them to become accustomed to the new surroundings. Her earlier thoughts about the bathtub had been correct; in front of her stood a fairly large container, warm vapor slowly rising from its hot contents. Next to it stood a voluminous woman who reminded her of the midwife her father had employed when she was little. The woman who had taken off her blindfold was about her own age, but much more muscular, indicating that she had lived a servant's life of long and hard workings for her masters; the woman was looking at her inquiringly, not sure how to proceed.

Since the Spaniard had still not changed her stand, the two Nordic servants were confused, probably because of the instructions to treat her gently; they didn't quite know how to continue. Finally, the fat woman patted the water, indicating that she was to enter the bathtub. She didn't need any further encouragement and gladly stepped forward, but her legs gave out, the repressed anxiety finally finding an outlet; the prospect of a warm bath was too much for the abused beauty to handle. The room started to spin, she gasped for air -- everything went dark as she blacked out.

*

She is running, desperately trying to find the exit, noises becoming louder. Suddenly, there he is blocking the entrance, wearing parts of the body armor of a Nordic knight, his face hidden behind a helmet, wielding a huge sword. He commands her to serve him. She immediately falls on her knees, submissively folds her arms behind her back and meekly opens her lips, signaling readiness to receive him. He approaches her, rams his sword into the ground and opens his fly, taking out his large member. Fearful of its size, she begs him to spare her. But he ignores her and tells her to worship his cock. She looks at the huge crown; its protective skin slowly retracting, exposing the angry red head already leaking its salty lubrication.

She fearfully starts to lick the red glans, tasting the saltiness, smelling the musky scent it surrounds. His eyes are filled with raw lust, empty of any mercy, his arousal increasing because of her apparent reluctance to accept his manhood, its multiple veins swelling fully. "Suck it!" he intones threateningly, one hand still resting on the large sword. She tries to looks at him, but can't see his face because of his helmet; only the unforgiving eyes, filled with desire to see her relieve him of his lecherous drive, to orally claim her, are visible to her.

She tries to widen her lips to accommodate its size; the engorged glans slowly enters her stretched jaw. Panic engulfs her as she has to breathe through her nose. Both of his hands hold her head, stopping her from retreating. Snake-like, his cock slowly forces its way deeper into her throat, making her gag. She lifts her hands pleadingly, but he ignores her silent, desperate plea for mercy and shoves his organ down her throat.

Unable to breathe, desperately trying to accommodate the obscene invasion, she senses him looking for friction, without which he wouldn't be able to climax. His handling becomes more aggressive, he lusts for release now. Unable to repel his attack, her vision starts to grey out due to the lack of air, her eyes start to bulge. She can't breathe...

Finally she was able to scream and woke up, holding her neck in a desperate attempt to escape the nightmare.

Inspected

She found herself resting in a comfortable bed. The horrible images of her latest dream still vivid on her mind, she gradually started to take in her new surroundings and examined the room she found herself in. The large bed covering had kept her warm in an otherwise cold environment. Little snowflakes slowly descended through a small window, already forming a snow patch on the floor, prompted her to snuggle under the warming blanket. She smelled nice; gone was the foul stench of the dungeon. Her hair had been washed extensively, because it felt soft and had regained its intense blackness; curls had started to form, making its general appearance even more inviting to look at.

The swellings, resulting from the repeated beatings had been bandaged, and she could smell different aromas of healing herbs underneath it. Her feet were wrapped in warm socks; gone was the temporary numbness in her toes. Although there were no candles in this room, it was sufficiently lit by the light streaming in through the window, leading her to assume that it must be around noon. Slowly she recollected last night's events until her fainting. After the horrifying treatment in the dungeons of the vast castle, she was mystified by the sudden change in behavior towards her. She hadn't been delivered to the Lord.




Breathless



"Why," she kept asking herself, "this unexpected treatment?"

She felt refreshed, her energies replenished; she hadn't been in such good shape for a long time. The warm bed made her drift off again. In her dream she was finally sailing home, the warm Mediterranean breeze rustling the ship's sails. She saw her father, worried, his face in deep thought, his once dark hair now completely grey. Although she danced around him like she had done when she was still a little girl, spoiled by his affection, he now didn't take any notice of her efforts to get his attention. Suddenly the sea stirred up, and the waves became threatening. She could hear people shouting, but didn't understand what was said. Somebody touched her, shook her...she woke up.

*

She recognized the face of the woman who tried to wake her. The room was dark by now, only dimly lit by the lone candle the midwife was carrying. Since she detected urgency in the servant's face, she stood up immediately and was handed the cape she had worn earlier. The muscular servant had entered the room and urged both of them to hurry. The three women hurriedly left the by-then freezing cold room, and followed a narrow aisle until they reached a closed door, which the pudgy servant opened. The southern beauty was momentarily blinded by the intense illumination in the room, but welcomed the warm temperature originating from an open fireplace. The younger servant took her cape and motioned her to stand on the rug next to the fire. Both women started to remove the bandages and seemed relieved with the results; eventually, they removed the woolen socks.

The muscular servant moved a bench from one corner of the room and positioned it close to the warming fire, covering it with a woolen quilt and finally bidding her to lie face down on it. Both servants started to massage her with an oily substance. The kneading and greasing motion prompted her to relax; she closed her eyes, while every part of her body was massaged by the two servants. They had her switch sides, repeated the process starting with her chest, greasing her breasts, moving downward along her body until finally rubbing her toes. It felt great. She was reminded of her former life of luxury, when regular massages by servants were considered routine.

It must have subconsciously been reflected in her demeanor and movements, because the two Nordic servants, used to that treatment by nobles, instantly switched to more servile behavior. When they combed her hair, she was her old self.

A loud knock on the door interrupted the peaceful ministrations and the three women were startled. The young servant left for the door and after a brief exchange returned with a velvet blindfold. Still polite, the muscular woman indicated her intentions to once again block the southerner's vision, thereby painfully reminding her of her lost status. The new blindfold darkened her vision completely. The fleeting feeling of dignity the young beauty had enjoyed was once again replaced by uneasiness, and her anxiety resurfaced, resulting in a broad nervousness.

She could hear the two servants rearranging the bench, collecting their tools and finally leaving the room. Long minutes of nothingness passed, her state of anxiety quadrupling in that time. Gone was the confidence; the gruesome feeling of confinement had come back with a vengeance. When she finally recognized movements outside the door, she was again reduced to her captive status.

"Present yourself!"

Recognizing the firm voice of the noblewoman, she complied instantaneously, offering her body in the by now accustomed degrading manner, fearfully waiting to be inspected. The Norman lady approached her, studied her appearance for several moments, and seemed satisfied. This time anticipating the examination, she tensely waited for the woman to touch her; expecting her to touch her breasts again, she felt her nipples harden above the puffy areolas.

As one would encourage a puppy, the lady commended her on her hardening nipples and in so doing, again subtly shamed her. She felt exploring fingers on her upper lip, gently moving along its prominent cupid's bow, encouraging its opening by soft pressure, expecting access, finally revealing her white front teeth. She started to explore the beauty's oral cavity, thereby lubricating her fingers. She tested the Spaniard's gag reflex by slowly but steady slipping her two fingers towards her throat. There was none; in that regard she had been successfully desensitized. The noblewoman continued to explore her mouth, now less interested in its composition, and more in establishing and reinforcing subjection, before finally withdrawing her fingers.

She felt a soft pressure being applied to her back, indicating the upcoming inspection of her other orifices and she widened her stand, to ease access. By now her heart was hammering in a state of apprehension. She held her bottom cheeks apart, to ease penetration. She felt the fingers of the noblewoman, still lubricated by her own saliva, following the groove between her buttocks until they reached the cleft directly above her back entrance, where dark hair surrounded the location of her anus. The noblewoman softly explored the darker skin surrounding her opening in a circling motion, obviously intended to help her relax; but she finally applied pressure with her fingertips to indicate the upcoming anal penetration.

Because of the gentle explorations the captive was able to relax, enabling a smooth penetration of the external opening of her rectum. The outer ring of her anal passage gave way to two fingers, slowly but firmly invading her intestines. Her instinct to go on tiptoes, to rear up, was met with a soothing "Shhhh!" and applied counter pressure from the noblewoman's left hand. She gasped because of the humiliating exploration of her private parts. Like a prized animal, she was examined by the noblewoman, who found her back passage tightening up around her fingers, when she began to move them in a slow pumping motion in and out of her posterior opening.

Finally satisfied with the humiliating checkup of her aft, the woman then proceeded to softly circle her perineum, indicating the imminent examination of her vagina. This gave the beauty time to spread her lips, to reveal her rosy interior. Because of her fear and overall stressed condition, she wasn't sufficiently lubricated and therefore anticipated another unpleasant penetration of her last orifice.

The noblewoman was obviously mindful of her dryness, because she interrupted the examination. The beauty sensed movements, and suddenly smelled her own pungent scent on the noblewoman's hand, now close to her face. Not sure if she would be able to overcome her initial repulsion, she remained steady, waiting for the Norman's command.

"I'll check your cunt with or without your help, young lady!" she impatiently threatened.

She decided to help. It wasn't the smell of her own sex, which had her hesitating earlier; it had more to do with her not being aroused. She wasn't a prude, and had smelled and manipulated her sex many times, but now she was just immensely scared of the evening's development. She opened her mouth.

The noble woman was clearly aware of the Spaniards charms, because she was visibly stirred, when the young woman accepted her repeated oral meddling and finally commanded

"Spit!"

She did.

"Again!" she ordered.

Satisfied with the amount of wetness on her fingers, the noblewoman returned to force herself into beauty's ultimate treasure, ignoring the groaning caused by her ministrations. She found the captive to be exquisitely tight, due to the imposed period of non-sexual activity. She started to grab one of her breasts, squeezing it in a milking downward movement, enjoying the total control she had over the beauty's body. But she knew this pearl needed to be awakened first, to be fully enjoyed and that it was not hers to command.

Admired

The female captive found herself once again alone near the fireplace. The degrading examination had ended, the Norman gone, and her heart still beat fiercely, keeping her in a state of high apprehension, emotionally and physically battered by the demeaning treatment, the outright rape by that noblewoman.

All the women she had met in this castle -- and she had only encountered females, except the guards yesterday and the Norman horde who raided her entourage long ago -- had tried to make sure she understood her lost status. She had started to accept it and had resigned herself to the fact of her being a mere slave. But the last several hours had revived her buried remembrances of her nobility; it was still residing within her, which was why she felt so miserable after the noblewoman's treatment.

She recognized several individuals entering, felt someone removing her blindfold, thereby enabling her to more rapidly observe and assess her surroundings, and greatly reducing her level of tension. She was again surrounded by women whom she had never met.

"They must all be servants," she observed, "but are robed in a nobler style."

They had brought a stool, positioned it near the fire and politely indicated for her to sit down. Several different pieces of clothing were arranged along the bench. One happy tradition of her mother's which had most delighted her was the trying on of different clothes. They had both spent countless hours reviewing, fitting, and arguing over the various outfits presented by merchants from almost every part of the known world. That's why she immediately judged the material and style to be most exquisite.

"So they are going to dress me, only to have the Lord unpeel me, when he wishes to do so, like a banquet with many courses," she mused bitterly.

They started to redo her hair; applied makeup to make her lovely lips even fuller and her eyelashes longer, and scented her with a fragrance smelling of cross-leaved heath, which she found quite fitting, even in her dire situation. When they finally let her pick a garment, she made her decision based on details which she reckoned would be the hardest for him to undo, unless he were to cut it right off.

It took all the help she could get from the servants to put in on. It was woven as a single piece and had therefore to be turned over her head in a movement demanding assistance. She was surprised at how absolutely perfect it fit.

"How did they get my measurements? The tailor must be very sure of his skills," she thought, impressed by the excellent planning and craftsmanship, which must have been put into it.

Tight around her waist, it accentuated her hourglass figure; the low cut around her bust nicely emphasized the cleavage of her white breasts, ultimately downplaying their fullness, leaving adequate mystery for the tempted male stare. She had to smile, it was that gorgeous. It widened considerably below her hips, leaving ample room for her to dance. The arrangement of its three colors made every movement of hers sensual, purple red being its most dominant, covering everything except for the part in the front where it was replaced by a darkish brown, interwoven by golden decorative patterns, again highlighting her womanly curves. The ends of its sleeves widened starkly and were of the same color, so she could by her own choosing, use her arm movements as a distraction from her charms while dancing.

It was obvious that the three servants couldn't hide their enchantment. She looked absolutely spectacular. The poor beauty's emotions oscillated between pride and an empty nothingness caused by the upcoming event. One servant left straightaway, while the remaining ones neatly folded the unused garments in a small chest, leaving the room empty except for the bench and the small stool they again bade her to sit on.

The next moments were the longest, the most dreadful, because now it had finally come to surrender herself to the Lord. Waiting for something to happen when she didn't exactly know how it was going to end, preceded by long confinement in solitude, torture, explicit degradation due to sexual innuendos made it hard for her to hold her outward composure.

Finally she heard voices, male voices.

"Be strong. I have to be strong!" she caught herself uttering.

The door opened and there he was -- or so she thought -- huge, loud, long slightly grey hair and a full beard, a long scar across his face, dressed in a surcoat and wearing gloves. That's what she glimpsed in the second he entered. They had forbidden her to look above the Lord's neck; hence she hated herself for the little indiscretion and hopped nobody had noticed. From then on she kept her eyes to the ground, subserviently.

He ordered everybody to leave.

On the outside the southern beauty's demeanor hadn't changed; she was still sitting gracefully on the small stool, but inside, her remaining ego had just been squashed. She wouldn't survive the remaining night with this fearsome Norseman.

*

They had met twice before, fought alongside in a successful raid, thereby establishing mutual respect, and later had crossed swords during a tournament which began their ongoing rivalry. Gunnarr had spotted the small group of riders some time ago and followed their movements as they swiftly ascended the winding path leading to his camp. Gunnarr went back towards his marquee and was informed by one of his scouts that while the Norsemen were still occupied unloading their ships; the young lord had decided to press ahead quickly, eager to return home.

Within minutes the small squad had reached the camp, speedily pressing forward toward his position, driving their horses to an even harder gallop, despite the small distance remaining between them. His intimidated guards moved back a little, but he was unimpressed, retaining in his broad stance, even if it seemed as if they would run him over. The horses were restrained at the last moment, the leader of the group dismounting while the animals were still scrambling to a halt, and embraced him heartily.

"Gunnarr, friend, I'm glad to see you."

"You are a show-off, old friend," he stated dryly, and returned the embrace.

"I know, but you need to replace your guards, because they seemed impressed."

"Yeah," he returned somewhat reluctantly, acknowledging the young Lord's awareness and absurd ability to mix fun with purpose. "Come with me, we need to talk." He guided him into his large tent.

*

"It was on our way back that we encountered the small vessel and boarded it. It must have been a merchant's ship, because they didn't put up much of a fight. That's where I found her."

"Greedy bastard!" he chuckled amusedly, knowing he would have taken the same opportunity. "So why are you telling me all this, Gunnarr?"

"Well, I know of your fondness for exotic women, so I thought, why not bring her along as a present for you. I mean, I still don't get your taste, but who am I to judge?"

"But you deemed her beautiful enough to get my attention, right?"

"Eiríkr, believe me, she is not what I would choose. But for a Mediterranean native, she is pretty hot."

"You are such a barbarian!" Gunnarr retorted, grinning mischievously, mocking his friend for his obvious distain of everything foreign. "Where is she now?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. As you might understand, when we returned from our last raid, I was eager to see my wife and son. So I sent her with some of the stuff we found on the ship as a token of my gratitude to your turnkey..."

"You did what?"

"I know, not a smart idea, but given my homesickness at that time, being worn out and such...you get my drift," Gunnarr replied, a little abashed by his friend's reaction.

"I know you meant well. Thanks for your generosity and understanding of my..." Eiríkr paused, thinking on how to not insult his friend again, to get it right "...urge to plug every hole I can lay my hands on."

Gunnarr's face lit up, before he finally burst into hearty laughter.

*

When all the servants had left, he ordered her to stand up, eyed her thoughtfully.

"This foreign woman indeed has a lot of grace and beauty," he thought, while continuing to assess her appearance. "I don't know what all the fuss is about. She doesn't look mistreated at all...well, maybe scared to death," he acknowledged to himself.

The turnkey wasn't going to change that. Years of dealings with captives who had to be turned into manageable slaves told him fear is always a good way to enforce compliance. Treating this woman respectfully would only encourage her defiance. But he had to make up for the perceived mistake by the young master, of her being abused in his realm, and he therefore decided to personally present her to the Lord.

He observed her face, the clear intention not to look at him, and decided to preserve this condition by blindfolding her. But she needed some protection for the walk to the Lord's chambers; therefore he left her standing without any further command, exited the room, and gave the proper instructions to the waiting servants.

*

"I'm not to his liking. I don't know what they are going to do to me now!" She became hysterical; such nerve-wracking was her tension, caused by her devastating conclusion.

She was still agitated when the servants returned, put some ugly but warm shoes on her, and again blindfolded her, steadying her movements and finally escorted her out of the room. The thoughts of meeting those two horrible women again, abusing her to their liking, probably now even more, because there was no more value to her, tormented her mind while she was being led along.

The outside corridors were cold and unforgiving, and the ugly shoes helped enormously to shield her small feet from the snow, but she had different thoughts on her mind. They reached the chambers, where the jail master had been waiting, quickly. When she heard his loud voice, she was again rocked to the core, but surprised when he took her hand and guided her inside. It was warm again. Somebody took off the shoes and when she felt a very fine carpet under her feet, she concluded instantaneously, even in her frantic state, that she was finally going to be presented to the real Lord.

Beauty

He had her led along slowly, setting the pace for was about to come, motioning the two musicians to play, silently acknowledging his appreciation to the turnkey who had personally brought her to him, and quickly dismissing him. When they were finally alone, except for the two minstrels positioned behind a large paravent, he took assessment of his friend's so-called gift.

The fact that she had been blindfolded suited him well, because it gave him the opportunity to take a good look at her, before giving her the chance to do the same. He liked this advantage, appropriate for his playful personality.

She was taller than expected, much younger than he -- he judged her to be in her early twenties, and had to smile because of the dress she had chosen to wear. He moved in a little closer; her skin was very white around her elegant neck and ...

"Mmh... nice!" he almost blurted, instantly drawn to her charms, teasingly hidden under her dress. Then he observed her face and realized that the poor thing was scared to death. "What have those monsters in the dungeon been doing to her?" he wondered in outrage.

He came up behind her and removed the blindfold, then quickly distanced himself from her, stretching out comfortably on the large divan next to the enormous fireplace which brightly illuminated his chamber across the room, making it hard for her to evaluate him quickly, when she recovered her vision.

She didn't move at first, seeming to be lost in the vastness of the room, but when her eyes adjusted to its brightness, she slowly began to dance, keeping her sight subserviently to the ground. He was blown away by her facial features. Her straight nose led to the fullest lips he had ever seen, slightly open because of her labored, obviously agitated breathing, revealing her perfect white teeth. Her brown eyes, outlined by dark, bushy, well-shaped eyebrows, indicated her Mediterranean origin, and her whole face was framed by an incredible fullness of dark, slightly curling, shoulder-length hair.




Breathless



Her womanly features, her incredibly small waist moving sensually, gracefully, to the soft tunes of the bards, made him swallow. Gunnarr had indeed given him a kingly present, because he was mesmerized by her beauty, by her shy nobility and delicate dignity, but he was disturbed by her obvious anxiety, the profound concern visible in her otherwise lovely face. He had to calm her down; otherwise there would be little enjoyment for either of them. And he already longed for this woman; she had him hypnotized, literally melting away his lordly pride, replacing his normally controlled composure with awe and desire.

While watching her elegant and, to him, deeply arousing movements, he thought calmly about what to say to her. By now, he was sure they had mistreated her badly. He hoped that she was from the Iberian Peninsula, because he spoke a little Spanish, and assumed the quickest way to communicate with her would be in her mother tongue. Since nobody spoke Spanish in these parts, he was sure he would immediately get her attention, if she were indeed Iberian. He had to try.

"Mírame!" he finally commanded her.

She seemed stunned for a moment, unsure what to do, but had clearly understood what he had said. He repeated his command, this time speaking softly, injecting as much assurance and politeness as his deep voice was capable of, hoping she would sense that he was not being threatening.

"Mírame"

He could see her conflict, her clear surprise by his command, but also an incredible fear of looking at him. She had stopped moving, still struggling to overcome her fear.

He waited, thinking "Come on beauty, you can do this; if you see my face, it will be much easier for you."

Another instant passed. The bards must have sensed the intensity of the moment too, because they stopped playing.

Finally, she hesitantly raised her eyes to his eyes.

*

By the manners that loud turnkey had silently retreated moments ago, she was sure now that she was with the ruler of this stronghold, and struggled between her overwhelming need to steal a quick glimpse, and the long months of induced fear of what might happen if she dared, needing to understand what she was up against. She then sensed his nearness, his deliberate appraisal of her, and imagined him to be a huge, fearsome, merciless monster, and was almost paralyzed when he finally freed her of the imposed darkness; she decided then that she would never have the courage to do any more than stare subserviently at the ground.

That was why his last command to look at him caught her completely off guard. This perceived monster not only spoke Spanish, but did so in a gentle and friendly tone; he had her puzzled. Finally, her curiosity won and she looked at him.

She had to suppress her surprise, to hold her composure, to resist her compulsion to cover her mouth, but there he was stretched out comfortably next to the fireplace, huge and imposing indeed, except for his expression. She knew that kind of look, had experienced it many times before, when men had courted her unsuccessfully, bored her with their superficial interest and lack of distinction. She was looking at a handsome man, one who obviously wielded a lot of power, but was seriously trying not to appear threatening, grinning almost comically. He couldn't hide his obvious enchantment with her.

To overcome the awkward moment, she took the initiative and again lowered her eyes, slowly starting to dance again, visibly more comfortable than just moments earlier.

He softly called for the musicians to continue their play. Obviously not used to their master's sweet tone, nothing happened, prompting him to call imperiously for their music, startling her, reminding her of his earlier restraint. The slow music continued, and she again eased into her performance. She felt his eyes glued to her, prompting her to use her charms alluringly. He was the first person to look at her with admiration and respect since her ship had been raided many months ago.

She was still agitated, her breathing labored, but in the last several moments something had changed -- her fear. Even though the incredible emotional stress she had been suffering during the last several hours had obviously taken its toll, as evidenced by the fact that she danced slowly and it took all her strength and will to dance, but gone was her utter submissiveness. Her self-esteem and understanding of being a desirable women had somewhat returned.

The beauty still kept her eyes to the ground and concentrated on her dancing, trying her best to impress the Lord. Then again, every movement she made, all the ostensible innocence transmitted by her dancing, gave her something she had been denied ever since her capture, something the brutal and degrading enslavement had obviously not been able to eradicate -- her awareness of being perceived as beautiful, even in these parts of the world. But it wasn't any ordinary person who liked her charms; it was the most powerful figure in this realm.

What troubled her was why everyone else had treated her miserably, despite the fact that the Lord obviously liked her. She was realistic enough to understand that his current enchantment could easily turn into something else less comforting for her, so she decided to give her best, to use her knowledge of men's cravings to captivate his interest. They had punished her throughout the dancing drills, when they deemed her movements not inflammatory enough, when she hadn't rudely exposed her sex, wiggled her breasts, and degraded herself, and she had been completely naked then.

However, now she was dressed as a noble woman by of her own choosing, having selected the dress as a barrier against his expected advances, rejecting the more revealing ones precisely because of her distain for their lack of restraint. And now she wished to be able to show more, without losing her shy dignity, which seemed to captivate him.

The beauty had been dancing for some time without explicit eye contact, and felt that her resolve was weakening. She decided to use several gyrations to look at him surreptitiously, using the long sleeves of her dress as distraction. Her tenacity returned when she saw his enchanted face, not hiding his enthusiasm, but promptly catching and holding her eyes, not once distracted by her arms twistings. The song of the musicians ended, and she concluded her performance with a gesture of respect, performing a curtsey.

He applauded her performance, clapping enthusiastically, and since she had remained in the deep curtsey, he said, "Rise!"

She became light-headed and tottered somewhat, prompting him to jump up and approach her, extending his hand, saying "Take my hand."

The Iberian hesitated only for a moment, and then accepted his hand.

"You need not be frightened!"

"I'm not my Lord ... not anymore," she uttered softly.

He noticed her sudden paleness and inquired, concerned, "You don't feel well, do you?"

"May I have some water, please?"

"Of course. Servants!"

A side door opened and two servants entered, bowing respectfully and awaiting his orders.

"Bring water!"

He guided her to the divan, gestured for her to sit down, and took a seat next to her. The servant returned with a mug, offering it to the Lord. He took the mug and gave it to her, watching her intensely as she drank. The water was refreshing; she was really thirsty, drinking quite a bit, prompting him to inquire, when she finally gave back the mug almost empty, "You must be hungry too."

"No, my Lord"

"I'm going to tell you this only once. Never lie to me!"

She closely observed his face and saw his concern, but also saw that he was serious about her always telling the truth.

"I don't want to be a burden, my Lord."

"Nonsense!" he retorted; then he addressed the servant: "Prepare a meal and bring wine!"

*

"Open up."

He fed her a slice of apple, telling her to chew it slowly, observing her obey him. The food he had been feeding her was delicious. She had become accustomed to his nearness, and to his obvious pleasure in stuffing her with food and speaking bits of Spanish.

"Drink."

The wine was heavy, and had loosened her up a bit, and reddened her cheeks. She felt it was too much already, but he kept holding the goblet to her mouth, insisting, deliberately feeding her inefficiently, so that it started to overflow, spilling and making a mess. Her eyes told him to stop, but he didn't until the remaining wine was either swallowed or spilled.

"Let me help you with this."

He took a small piece of cloth and dabbed her lips, then moved it towards her chin, paused, gradually following her neck downward, keeping her eyes locked to him as though she were under a spell as he continued towards her cleavage.

"You are naughty girl, spilling so much wine."

"Yes, my Lord," she shyly replied, lowering her eyes in obvious embarrassment, because of his teasing. He finally dropped the cloth. She kept her eyes down. His hand returned, gently scooping back her long hair, now concealing parts of her face, tenderly bundling it behind her ear. She liked the soft ministrations, his large hand fondly touching her, and caught herself longing for more, imperceptibly cuddling toward him. He kept caressing her hair, admired its full, intense blackness and slight silvery shine, felt her fragility now even more, since she had told him about her imprisonment in the dungeon, but intuitively kept arousing her senses, already clouded by too much wine.

She felt the rough skin of his hand and fingers, battle hardened, accustomed to wield a large sword, now softly manipulating her womanly longings, still buried under month-long deprivation, but slowly re-emerging under his gentle ministrations, like a flower that had been denied water for too long. Beauty's emotions were confused by his temperate attitude towards her.

"What would you do, if I asked for a kiss?"

Taken aback by his unexpected question, she hesitated. He continued to play with her hair, now moving his hand under it, searching for the back of her neck, stroking it fondly, causing goosebumps, waiting for her to respond.

"I would kiss you, my Lord." she answered blushingly.

"Show me!"

He waited, sensing her turmoil, moving his hand slowly down the back of her neck until he reached the hem of her dress, admiring her white skin, her soft hair reacting to his gentle touches. He saw her tremble, grabbed her chin calmly, and raised her face to meet his gaze. He looked at her beautiful face, met her dark brown eyes, and held her stare, finally observing her full lips. She took his clue and slowly met his lips. He sensed their fullness, reveled in their slight wetness in the brief moment they touched. He demanded, feeling her retreat, "Stay!"

She remained in her position and closed her eyes, humbled. He felt her warm breath, sensed her hesitation and commanded fondly,

"Again!"

This time she parted her lips slightly. He tasted the remnants of wine when he returned her kiss, exploring her slight opening with his tongue, searching; finally meeting hers, enmeshing. Tempting passion, he grabbed her, drawing her even closer; her slight resistance broken, she finally gave in, returning his desire, unclenching her muscles at last, inviting him to explore.

He was strong, his desire for her obvious in his unleashed passion, his arousal manifest in his rougher handling of her. Both his hands held her head, their tongues entwining in passionate kissing, provoking her to softly resist his impulsive wildness. Finally he let go of her, his manhood roused.

She looked at him, her own passion revived, her confusion visible, caused by the anguish ingrained in her during the preceding month of torture; silently, she pleaded with him to be gentle, not to destroy what he had opened, what she was willing to give. He saw it and smiled, filled with desire for this incredible beauty, her delicate features and womanly curves bringing his male instincts again to boiling point.

"You are very beautiful!" He finally broke the silence. "I must concede I haven't met a woman like you before."

She observed his face and found truth in his words. His warm smile was genuine; the fire in his eyes spoke of a man filled with desire for her. It helped to reclaim parts of her, which have been lost, buried in captivity, almost broken by torture and degradation. But she caught herself longing for his gentle touches, was captivated by his restraint, by how he was unwilling to force himself on her. Still, memories exhausted her.

"May I have some more wine, my Lord?"

"Certainly," he answered, smiling naughtily, refilling the goblet. "Do you want my help, or do you think you can do it all alone, this time?"

"I'd like your guidance, my Lord," she answered with a shy smile.

He didn't need any further encouragement, and moved closer to her, holding her gently; their eyes met again. "Do you know that hawks choke up food to feed their offspring?"

"Are you going to feed me wine, my Lord?"

He didn't answer, but sipped from the goblet. Their lips met again, and he slowly fed her the wine from his mouth. She swallowed, looking at him, smiling pertly.

"Oh, the poor birdie isn't filled yet."

He repeated the action; she swallowed again, but this time didn't let go of him, embracing his broad shoulders, initiating the smooches which he willingly returned. They were tangled for several moments, before he started to kiss her cheeks, placing caresses on her lids and brows, nibbling on her earlobes, making her giggle. He again had to observe her, as if the whole situation wasn't real, her face flushed because of their heated exchange and too much wine, her long hair mussed, her white bosom moving because of her heavy breathing, her womanly figure wrapped tightly by the dress.

When he finally stopped imagining her without her dress, he found her observing him, and knew she had seen his lustful longing for more. She smiled at him, stating "You seem to glow, my Lord. It's quite warm in here. Will you require my assistance to open your shirt?"

"Would I?" he asked, laughing. "I am afraid it has to come off completely, considering how warm it is in here."

She moved closer, watching his expression, while she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. His shaved face already showed signs of stubble; his light brown hair was dense, ending at his broad neck. Before she opened the final button, she again stared into his blue eyes, as if she could read what he was thinking. Finally releasing it, she indicated that he should take it off.

He pulled it over his head, letting her observe his body. She saw the scars across his torso, his skin roughed up around his shoulders, probably because of the heavy armor he was forced to wear in battle. He wasn't overly muscular, just lean; there were still bluish discolorations on several parts, indicating to her that his wounds from the last fight had not fully healed. She softly touched his chest, playfully curled its hair, moved along a scar.

"You have seen many battles, my Lord," she intoned softly, her tone a combination of admiration and fear.

"Fought too, between my men! I've been lucky so far; everything is still there!" he answered wryly, smiling. He saw fear reappearing in her face and understood. Gunnarr wasn't faint hearted, and the taking of her ship must have been horrifying for her to watch.

"Would you like some more wine?" he asked, trying to overcome the heaviness of the moment.

"Yes."

"You think you can do it on your own?"

She smiled. "This time."

He handed her the goblet, watched her slowly drinking, as if she was trying to forget, drowning her thoughts. Her cheeks had become quite rosy, but he liked her flushed face even more. He longed for her delicate beauty, and once again started his soft caressing of her graceful neck, playing with her hair, placing kisses along her neck, ultimately giving her quite a love bite, making her laugh again.

She slowly stood up, making him look at her in bewilderment.

"My Lord, I have chosen this dress, because I thought it would be the hardest for you to remove. It took almost three servants to get it over my head. Would you be so kind as to avert your eyes for a moment, so I can get it off?"

He smiled warmly. "I can do better than that. Would you allow me to call for servants, to help you, remove..." exploding into laughter "...your armor?"

She had to giggle too and agreed, this time only slightly embarrassed.

Breathless

He had blindfolded himself, sitting on his divan, half naked. Some of the servants stared at him in confusion, but the quick witted ones smiled. They helped her out of the tight dress; she welcomed their support as it turned out to be quite a challenge. She was getting restless, because of how long it was taking, fearing that he might become angry. But her anxiety was unfounded, because he enjoyed the sound of frustrated whispers and the final relief when they had stripped her.

He ordered everybody, including the musicians, to leave. When finally everyone was gone, he asked if she would allow him to take off his blindfold.

"Would you allow me the honor of returning your vision, my Lord?" she asked.

"Off course!" adding "I didn't realize how much you can take away, by blocking someone's sight."

"But didn't your other senses become sharper?"

"No, but maybe you can help me with that."

She slowly approached him, still sitting on his divan.

"I found the strongest sense to be smell; it helped me take in my surroundings quickly, but I also realized it can be the most painful." She drifted back to the moment when she had smelled her palanquin.

"I can sense your nearness, but you have to come closer in order for me to smell you."

She sneaked behind him, waited, observed him inhaling softly; she gently grabbed his hair and placed a kiss on his neck, lingering, letting him feel her soft lips. Seeing how her touch had caused him to react, she asked, "Which part of my body did you just feel?"

"That's easy; those were your lovely lips."

She circled the divan slowly several times before stopping slightly to his right, lifting her arm, exposing her armpit, moving in closer, remaining; she was getting aroused by her little game and whispered, "And what do your senses tell you now, my Lord?"

He smelled her slight fragrance, the combination of her own body odors mixed with the sweet scent of cross-leaved heath. He simply had to inhale deeply, to take in more of her delicious aroma, the intimacy of the action provoking his desire. She looked down at him, his face only inches away, and felt his breath on her breast, making her nipple erect, wrinkling her areola, making her arousal evident.

Smiling, anticipating her breast close to his face, sniffing, as if her scent would be able to guide him, he slowly moved towards her breast, and when he found it, heat rose in his face, unleashing his passion, he groaned in absolute arousal. She softly guided her puffed-up nipple towards his lips, inviting him to suck her breast. He accepted with alacrity, suckling her voraciously, his hands now holding her tight. He loved the firmness of her breast, and licked its nipple. Encouraged by her invitation, he started to explore her body, his hands moving along her back, downwards, pausing, admiring her low waist, moving lower before finally grabbing her bottom, feeling the full cheeks, noticing they were slightly colder than the rest of her body. Unable to hold back any more, his manhood hardened, painfully confined in his trousers. She saw his swelling, and smiled at her power to stir his longing.

"My Lord, shall I remove your trousers?"

"Yesss!"

"Please stand up"

He stood up, sensed her lowering herself in front of him, felt her soft manipulations as she quickly relieved him from his confinement, his member already engorged. She let his trousers fall to his feet, bidding him to step out of them.




Breathless



"I hate to say it but I think I'm done for the night." I sat back against the leather seat in the booth we were occupying and gazed out at the crowd packed into the club. Shouts and laughter competed with the bass pumping from the speakers, and people were downing shots at the bar. 

We'd been amongst the chaos on the dance floor earlier, but the heat and crush of bodies had become too much so we'd moved to a quieter corner away from the flashing lights. 

"Whose idea was it to come here anyway?" I asked, glancing sideways at my best friend.

Katie snorted and tucked her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ear. Her grey eyes filled with amusement as she lifted her glass to her lips. "I told you it wouldn't be the same anymore, Jess. The only clubs you're suited to now are the lawn bowls kind."

I laughed and reached for my cider. "We're the same age!"

"I know, but you married doofus over there." She pointed her glass at my husband, Nathan. He'd made himself at home on the bench seat opposite, a smile appearing on his face as he listened to our conversation. "And I'm single. That makes you old and settled while I can still get away with pretending to be young and carefree."

"Oh, is that right?"

She sent me a smirk then went about emptying her glass. I shoved her shoulder and put some work into emptying mine.

We'd come out tonight for my birthday, and what had originally begun as a gathering of nine close friends quickly dwindled to the three of us, just like the old days. Nathan had suggested a romantic dinner but I'd wanted to go out dancing to help chase away the almost-crisis I'd been entertaining over the thought of getting older. It was one thing to be thirty—I'd handled that milestone birthday pretty well—but to be in your thirties just felt like a whole different thing to me.

Nathan leaned in and rested his forearms on the table. "You want to go home?" he asked. "I'm ready when you are."

"No, she doesn't want to go home." Katie jabbed her elbow into my side. "Tell him."

"Ow!" I nursed my abused ribs and pressed my lips together, staring across at him as I considered my options. I could stay here surrounded by drunken strangers or head home with him so we could make our own fun. His dark hair appeared almost black in the dim light, and the way his blue eyes cruised lazily over me made the second option more appealing with each passing second. I knew it wouldn't take long to unfasten the buttons on his navy blue shirt and work my way down to the fly on his jeans. As soon as I got the zipper open and slipped my hand inside, he'd be hard and ready to go.

He raised his brows to prompt a reply and I shifted my attention to Katie, already feeling arousal warming my cheeks.

She spotted the expression on my face and rolled her eyes. "Oh, c'mon. He only wins because he has a dick."

I heard Nathan's laughter and sent Katie an apologetic look. "Well, can you blame me?"

She downed the rest of her drink and set her glass on the table with a clunk. "I've told you a hundred times, just give me the word and I'll make you forget all about him." She glared at Nathan but it only made him grin.

The two of them were always fighting or flirting. She was the only woman I'd ever let get away with talking to him like this, mostly because she didn't mean anything by it but also because I knew he loved the verbal sparring. "And I've told you a hundred times I'm not into women."

Katie had brought up her bisexuality in a conversation with me years ago then confessed her attraction to me not long after that. It had left me feeling awkward, flattered and a whole host of other feelings I didn't want to examine too closely back then. We both knew it wouldn't go anywhere and had managed to joke about it at the time, but she still made a point of reminding me every now and then what I was missing out on.

"I feel like it's one of those things you can't ever really know for sure unless you try it," she said.

"Yeah, I doubt that." I shoved my long dark hair over my shoulder and tugged the bodice of my strapless blue dress a little higher. "Sorry, but the thought of being with another woman makes my legs clamp shut—and I don't have to go bungee jumping to know it would make me pee my pants, or stand in front of a crowd to figure out that public speaking scares the crap out of me."

She laughed and slanted a glance at me. "So it's just the below-the-waist stuff that bothers you?"

"Mmm...I guess so." I looked her over slowly, taking in the black dress hugging her figure and the silver pendant dipping into her cleavage. Her full lips were painted red and I'd always thought she had the most beautiful eyes, so expressive and full of life. If I ever had a change of heart and decided to go there with a woman, I could do a hell of a lot worse than going there with her. It was just the thought of lying naked with her in a bed, parting her legs and moving in between them—my mind refused to head in that direction. "I'd maybe be okay with kissing. Boobs too, but the rest of it's just not my thing."

I glanced over at Nathan who appeared entertained by the conversation but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. Neither he nor I were against the idea of adding another person in the bedroom, but his aversion to being intimate with a man and mine with a woman made it unlikely we'd ever experience that together.

"What do you think?" Katie asked, sliding her hand onto my thigh and squeezing as she quirked a brow at Nathan. "Do I have what it takes to unclamp your wife's legs?"

"How about I give you some pointers to improve your chances?" He sent me a quick smile that made me feel like laughing and smacking him all at the same time.

Katie had taken the inside seat when we'd claimed our booth. She smiled at Nathan's remark and leaned in close, pressing her breasts against my upper arm. "What about this idea? Would you be open to me doing things to you that I wouldn't expect to be reciprocated? Maybe expand your horizons, make the most of the dirty thirties, let me give you a birthday present you'll never forget...that kind of thing."

I wanted to laugh at the exaggerated hopeful expression on her face but my heart pounded and a flurry of butterflies filled my stomach. I drew a bracing breath as I tried to sort through my thoughts. How did we even get to this point? One minute I'd been feeling past my used by date then the next I had my best friend hitting on me—again.

My gaze flicked across to Nathan then returned to Katie. The scent of her flowery perfume drifted toward me. She sat so close that all I had to do was move forward a couple of inches in order to touch my mouth to hers. Her comment about experimenting during my thirties hit home and I had to admit it triggered a tiny amount of curiosity.

She appeared to forget about me for a moment and stared at a point somewhere over my shoulder, then I saw her mouth soften and her lips part. "Oh, wow," she said. My eyes narrowed and I turned to see what had inspired that reaction, discovering a blonde man and a woman with red hair leaning against the opening to our booth, kissing in a way that made me think they'd be looking for somewhere private pretty soon.

I noticed the man's hand slide up his partner's short skirt, the material bunching over his wrist and leaving her pink panties on display. His fingers swept around to the front and dipped into the elastic at the top of her thigh. The heat in the room seemed to climb a few degrees and I took a deep breath, holding it as I watched his hand begin to move.

I couldn't believe they were doing this right here in front of us. Katie swore softly beside my ear. Nathan followed our line of sight, his eyes widening at the view. We watched in silence as the woman's hips rocked against the man's stroking fingers, both of them lost in their own world while the noise and activity continued on around them. The idea of doing something like this in a crowded place caused a rush of excitement inside me.

Katie's hand moved higher on my thigh and my legs relaxed without me even being fully aware of the movement. I couldn't tear my gaze away from the couple. The woman tilted her hips and pushed closer to the man's body. They were both so into each other they didn't appear to notice or care that they had an audience.

I stole a quick glance at Nathan. His searing gaze sent warmth spreading through me. I looked back to the other man and noticed his fingers had picked up their pace. The woman's hips ground against him as their kiss grew in intensity. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably aroused, watching as she pulled her mouth free and pressed it against his throat.

Her chest moved with her heavy breaths. He looked to be struggling, too. His head lifted and he swept his gaze over their surroundings as if he'd only just realised they were in a public place. His attention suddenly came to rest on me and my heart thumped so hard I could feel it without even touching my chest. Kissing her had left his lower lip moist and swollen. A slight smile crossed his face as he watched me. Our gazes remained connected until the woman finally let out a strangled cry, coming with a shudder against his hand.

I could feel Katie's breaths against my neck as the woman's knees wobbled. The man wrapped his arm around her to hold her steady, then kissed her cheek and spoke to her in a voice so low the words were drowned out by the music. Although the urgency had faded, they indulged in another long kiss, then while my breaths were still coming quickly and my pulse continued to race, he took her by the hand and led her away.

I watched in stunned silence as a group of rowdy guys filled the space they'd vacated. They stood with their backs to us watching the action on the dance floor, effectively blocking off the exit and our view of the rest of the club. 

The couple's departure left me feeling restless and needing release. It had all felt so surreal that if my body hadn't been telling me otherwise I would have been convinced it had never happened. Beneath the table my legs spread even further and Katie's hand slid up the inside of my thigh, stroking my sensitive skin. I looked down in surprise to see it there.

"Fuck, that was hot," she said. "Did that turn you on?"

Unable to speak, I nodded quickly and kept my eyes on her as she touched her lips to my hot cheek.

"Take your panties off," she said.

A shock of adrenaline coursed through me and I gasped, glancing across at Nathan. The desire welling inside me told me to go for it but my stomach fluttered with uncertainty. With the high walls of the booth and the crowd spread across the front, no one would know what was going on. I wasn't sure if I could actually do it but after watching that display it made me at least want to try.

My smile trembled as I dipped my hands beneath my dress and lifted my hips. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and shoved them down my thighs, sinking back onto the seat to slip them over my high heels. When I'd dropped them beside me, Nathan leaned over the table and cupped the back of my neck, drawing me to him. His lips touched mine in a soft peck and he whispered against my mouth, "Don't overthink it, babe. Just enjoy yourself."

I smiled and kissed him again. Katie's hand resumed its position on my thigh and our eyes met as her fingers climbed higher. She swirled her palm over my soft skin, then gently pulled my leg toward her to widen the gap between my thighs. The way she watched me made me feel warm inside.

The tension between the three of us was palpable. Nathan looked like he was only just managing to keep it together. Katie's breaths were coming fast, her watchful eyes telling me she could barely believe this was happening; I guessed she probably expected it to stop at any moment. Similar thoughts whirred through my mind as I slid further down in my seat to allow her more room.

The first touch of her soft, seeking fingertips against the outer edge of my pussy sent a shockwave of pleasure through me. She ran her palm over me then kept her attention on my face while she dipped one finger inside, trailing it along the length of my pussy. "You're so wet," she said.

Inside me was a mess of emotions. I wanted to pull away, I wanted to push closer. The way Nathan and Katie were looking at me made me feel so desired, but the novelty of it all created a feeling of self-consciousness in me. "God, I don't know what to do." My gaze travelled down my body, watching the way the material of my dress shifted with the movement of her hand. My chest lifted and fell with my shallow breaths.

"You don't have to do anything." Katie kissed my temple and began massaging my pussy. "Just sit back and let me make you come."

The breath rushed out of me and desire had my heart slamming against my ribs. During all our years of friendship I'd never once seen this side of her. I glanced at my husband then checked the guys standing nearby to make sure their backs were still turned.

Katie leaned closer and trailed her lips along my cheek, stopping at the corner of my mouth. "Does it feel good?" she asked.

"Uh-huh." I rested one hand on her knee, bracing myself as she continued sliding her fingers through my wetness.

She kissed the edge of my lower lip. "Do you want me to keep going?"

I stared at Nathan while I answered her. "Yeah." The word came out sounding like a breathless sigh.

"I'm gonna work your pussy until you come all over my hand. You know that, don't you?" 

God, I couldn't take any more. It all became too much. I turned my head and pressed my lips to hers.

I heard Nathan groan even from across the table. I could only imagine what was going through his mind right now. Katie sighed as our lips met. Her mouth was so soft and warm. She moaned and swept her tongue over mine as her fingers slipped inside me, pulling back to plunge into me again. My hips lifted from the seat and I cried out against her mouth.

She rubbed her thumb over my swollen clit and I arched my back, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. I'd given up trying to make sure no one could see what we were doing. I didn't care. All I wanted to do right then was come.

I slid my hand up her leg and gripped her thigh. Through the haze of pleasure it dawned on me that I wanted to touch her, too. I tried to reach for her but our positions made it too awkward and I let out a sound of frustration. She pulled her mouth from mine and trailed her lips to my ear. "Don't worry about me," she said. "Just focus on you."

Sensation clouded my thinking and I raised one knee to rest it out to the side. I lifted the hem of my dress, exposing her hand and my slick, wet pussy. Her fingers were shiny with my moisture, her nails a stark ruby red against my flesh.

I glanced across at Nathan, my heart thudding at the look in his eyes. I knew, I just knew, I was going to get it later. That thought helped push me over the edge. I kept my gaze locked with his as my hips lifted and my inner muscles pulsed. My stomach clenched and Katie whispered against my ear, "That's it...yes."

The combination of Nathan's steely gaze and her soft touch made me lose it. I braced myself and gripped her thigh, pressing my other palm hard into the seat. I rocked my hips to meet her sliding fingers and watched Nathan as my mouth dropped open. I came so hard it left me light-headed. My stomach clenched, my thighs trembled. Pleasure shuddered through me but I wasn't done.

Katie moaned at the sounds of my release and kept touching me, giving my pussy soft, wet smacks to intensify the tingling arousal swelling my clit. Her free hand slipped around my back, curving over my ribs to clasp my breast through the bodice of my dress. Her mouth pressed to my throat, her lips teasing the underside of my jaw.

I couldn't sit still. It began rising inside me again. I looked down at her hand. Her fingertips continued the gentle slapping motion against my clit, the touch sending vibrations through my pussy that built the pleasure inside me until I wanted to scream.

Nathan shoved away from the rear of the booth and slipped out at the end, pushing his way past the crowd to round the table and drop in beside me. I gasped at the intensity in his eyes as he clasped the back of my neck. The breaths were panting from me as he crushed his mouth to mine. I made a whimpering sound and heard a growl rumble in his chest. His tongue thrust inside my mouth, his lips hard and demanding. Katie kept up her soft smacking touches against my ever-dampening pussy.

I jerked my mouth from Nathan's to drag in air and whispered hoarsely, "Kiss her."

He groaned and paused to give me a long look. He seemed to find what he needed in my expression because he reached for Katie and pulled her toward him. I leaned back as he took her mouth with the same intensity he'd taken mine. His hand moved down to meet hers, his fingers dipping inside me while her attention on my clit turned to a slow, deep massage. He curled his fingertips forward and gave me the firm rubs he knew I loved.

Having them kissing right in front of me while they both played with my pussy became too much. Together they made me come again. My body jolted as a cry tore from my throat and my hips lifted from the seat. I trembled all over and my thighs wanted to clench together but their hands kept them apart. Eventually it all became too much. "Oh, God, no more. No more," I said. I pushed their hands away and tipped my head back, sucking in great gulps of air.

Katie stopped kissing Nathan to turn to me. "You're so sexy," she said breathlessly. "I can't believe you let me do that—to you or him." I knew she was referring to kissing Nathan but the idea of her doing much more suddenly seemed to be all I could think about. We'd never let anyone get this close to us before. Now I'd had a taste of it, I didn't want it to end.

My legs ached in their widespread position. I couldn't slow my breathing or calm my pounding heart. I reached for Katie, clasping her face in my hands. My lips met hers and I kissed her, thrusting my tongue into her mouth.

Nathan leaned in close and in a husky voice beside my ear said, "Let's go home. Now."

I reluctantly ended the kiss and turned to him to nod. My eyes met his and the desire I saw in those blue depths took my breath away. He smiled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the booth. I clasped Katie's wrist and dragged her along with me.

* * * * *

When the taxi pulled up at our place twenty minutes later, I interlocked my fingers with Katie's and rushed along the path with her to the front entrance. Nathan paid the driver and caught up with us a few moments later, pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock the door.

I knew I probably should have taken her into the living room where we could relax for a while before we became more intimate, but I had a feeling that if I stalled right now it might just give me time to talk myself out of this. I flicked on the light in the hall and took her straight to our bedroom. Her hurried steps matched mine, giving the impression she felt the urgency, too.

Nathan sidled by me and moved ahead of us into the room, leaning over the bedside table to switch on the lamp. A soft yellow glow flooded the space, illuminating the burgundy bed linen and the cream-coloured drapes covering the window. A couple of outfits I'd tried on earlier were strewn over the foot of the bed. I released Katie's hand and gathered the garments, walking across the beige carpet to lay them over the arm of the chair in the corner.

She sent me a smile and looked around as she kicked off her shoes. She'd been in here before—many times in fact—but now it felt so different. I knew everything was about to change between us and I couldn't quite convince myself that the idea didn't make me feel at least a little bit nervous.




Breathless



My heart hammered as I followed her lead and took off my own heels, nudging them under the bed with my toe. I watched as Nathan approached me, looking at me in such an intimate way it was hard to believe anyone else was in the room with us. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me close, his lips brushing mine with the softest of kisses. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now, what you did to me in the club?" he asked.

My hand trailed over the flat plane of his stomach, smoothing lower to caress the bulge in his jeans. "I'm starting to catch on."

His low laugh made the tiny hairs rise on my forearms. "Before we go any further tell me what you want—what you don't want. Talk to me."

Knowing he intended to ensure this ran smoothly made me feel more secure. Katie stepped into the space behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. The warmth of their bodies enveloped me, leaving me torn between leaning into his hard strength and pressing back against her softness. "Everything," I said. My voice had turned husky and I looked him in the eyes to make sure he got the message. "I'm okay with everything."

He growled and clasped my face in his hands, pressing his lips to mine. He took control of my mouth with a barely restrained force, his thumbs stroking my temples while his tongue explored. Katie's hands began to wander, one palm smoothing over my breasts while the other drifted around to my back. She swept my long hair aside, the gentleness of her touch making me shiver. Her lips moved over my neck where she left slow, wet kisses as she dragged the zipper down.

The material gaped open and cool air whispered across my skin. Her fingertips trailed down the length of my spine, urging the dress to drop to my feet, leaving me standing there in just a black strapless bra. She turned me in her arms and Nathan's groan of protest had her letting out a laugh.

Katie pulled me against her, taking over where he'd left off. Our tongues tangled and my hands sank into her blonde hair, holding her to me. I loved kissing Nathan but this felt so different. Her lips were more supple, her skin silky where it rubbed against mine. Her soft moans and touches were so feminine compared to the hard muscle and firm hands I'd grown used to over the years.

The warmth of Nathan's body left me. While my mouth moved with Katie's, the sound of a zipper lowering behind me kicked my excitement level up another notch. I heard the rest of his clothing hit the floor soon after, and when he returned to me the length of his erection pressed against my lower back.

I thrust my tongue against Katie's and my hands slid from her hair to her shoulders. She helped me work the thin straps of her dress down her arms until she'd managed to slip free of them and bunch the material around her waist. A moan sounded in my throat and I stopping kissing her, pulling back to take in her bare skin.

She hadn't been wearing a bra. My gaze travelled over her as she pulled her long silver pendant over her head and dropped it from her dangling fingertips. My breath caught in my throat at the sight. Her breasts were slightly fuller than mine and I watched as her pale pink nipples tightened under my gaze. A feeling of passion tore through me that I couldn't contain. With tentative touches I began to explore, trailing my fingertips over the hard buds. A sigh slipped from her and she clasped my elbows.

Nathan flicked open the catch on my bra and whipped it from me, reaching up to cup my breasts from behind. His mouth moved to my neck, leaving soft, tender pecks on my skin. His hands mimicked what mine were doing to Katie, making it hard for me to concentrate. I framed her face with my palms and pulled her in to kiss her softly. 

Katie's lips skimmed over mine as she shoved at the material gathered around her hips. It fell to her feet and we both stepped out of our dresses. Nathan released me, and my mouth kept teasing Katie's as I backed her toward the bed.

She turned me around and smiled against my mouth, then gave me a shove that had me falling onto the mattress. I let out a surprised laugh and worked my way back against the pillows, looking up at her as she stood at the foot of the bed wearing a pair of blue lace panties. 

Nathan stepped in behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. I held my breath and her eyes remained locked with mine as his palms swirled over her stomach. I knew we'd reached the point now where I should voice my concerns, where my jealousy should take over and make me want to put a stop to any further contact, but I loved them both and the feelings never came.

One of his hands swept over her breast and clasped the firm mound while the other disappeared down the front of her panties. Her eyes drifted closed and a surge of desire took hold of me. He leaned forward to kiss Katie's cheek, his gaze meeting mine as his hand moved against her pussy. I massaged my breasts while I took in the scene, barely able to believe it was actually happening.

He noticed what I was doing and gave me a half-smile. He had Katie writhing against him, the sound of her long, drawn out moan making the moment feel so intimate, so arousing.

She reached behind her body to take hold of his erection. Nathan's eyes closed momentarily when she began stroking him. I loved seeing him like this, sinking into the moment while at the same time trying to remain in control. I loved that Katie was the one doing it to him. I caressed my nipples, my hips moving restlessly against the mattress.

Her eyes opened again and met mine, the need in them making me moan and pinch my nipples. She leaned back against Nathan's chest as she stroked his cock. Her breasts thrust out and her stomach tightened with her quick breaths.

The newness of the situation and the sight of his strong hand kneading her breast kept me on edge. We held each other's gaze as his fingers continued moving inside her panties, then I watched her mouth drop open. Katie shuddered against him, her ass pressing back into his groin as she came. He groaned and kissed her throat, holding her up, his strength keeping her standing when she would have otherwise fallen.

Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip. We watched each other in that moment and it seemed like our bond strengthened; the connection, the complete awareness of each other, it made me feel closer to her than I ever had before.

I smiled and watched as she pushed her panties down her thighs and kicked them free. My gaze travelled over her naked body, dipping between her thighs to her smooth pussy. It was the first time I'd ever seen another naked woman in the flesh and she looked so beautiful, so perfect, that it only made me want her more. She crawled over the mattress and I repositioned the pillow behind me, lying flat on the bed to bring her down on top of me.

My legs spread to accommodate her and she settled between my thighs. I sucked in a breath at the unfamiliar feeling of her breasts flattening against mine and looked over her shoulder to see Nathan kneeling at the base of the bed. The hunger I saw in his gaze made my stomach churn.

I pulled Katie close and touched my lips to hers. "That was so hot watching you come," I said.

The tip of her tongue slipped out to moisten her lower lip as she stared down at me. "I want to make you come again now," she said. "With my mouth. Will you let me?"

A rush of emotions flooded me. Her red lipstick had smudged at one corner. Combined with her mussed hair it gave her a wild appearance that left me feeling a longing for her that I'd never experienced before. "Can I watch you and Nathan together while you do it?"

"Jesus, you two are killing me," he said from behind her.

Katie smiled at me. "All right, but only if he promises not to talk." She lowered her head and drew me into another long kiss. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her back, plunging my tongue between her lips. We were so close that I could feel the deep sigh that moved through her.

I bent my knees and parted them further, allowing Katie to settle deeper into the cradle of my thighs. Nathan moved closer and grabbed her hips. Her weight shifted and she let out a muffled exclamation against my mouth.

My heart hammered in anticipation. I wanted to watch her, to feel her fall apart on top of me. Her hips rocked against mine, her tongue relentless as she put everything into the kiss. Her hands sank into my hair and mine smoothed down her spine, cupping her buttocks, squeezing her flesh. She moaned and pulled her mouth free, breathing heavily as she looked me over.

The heat of her overwhelmed me, had me arching my back. I sucked in a breath and tried to catch her mouth again but she gave me a smile that promised more. Katie shifted backward and Nathan moved with her. She lowered her head and took my nipple into her mouth.

A moan sounded and it took me a moment to realise it had come from me. I wanted to close my eyes and savour the sensation but I glanced up and caught Nathan's expression. He leaned over Katie's back to reach for me, clasping my face firmly in one hand. He gazed at me for one long moment then placed a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. "I adore you," he whispered against my mouth.

A surge of tenderness took me by surprise and tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't breathe. Katie gave my nipple a firm suck then licked the hardened peak. Nathan leaned back, smoothing his palms over her ass, and her responding moan vibrated against my breast.

I glanced from Katie's red lips at my nipples to Nathan's hard features. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he needed more and wanted to see her between my thighs. When he lost patience and moved back, gripping her hips to pull her with him, it made me smile. Katie's breathless laughter skimmed over my stomach. "He's such an ass," she said to me.

I stroked her hair and met Nathan's eyes. "I know, but he's a loveable one—and he has a nice cock."

She giggled then, when I'd never before heard her giggle in my life. Nathan smiled and we watched each other as he guided his cock inside her. Katie's laughter slipped into a long, husky moan and his lust-filled gaze stayed on me as he pulled back to thrust back into her again.

The moment felt like the strangest dream. My mind still hadn't adjusted to the fact that this was actually happening. I knew I'd be reliving these moments later when it was all over and I had some time to think, but the idea of watching my husband fuck another woman, a woman who happened to be my best friend, would have been incomprehensible if anyone had suggested it to me even a few hours ago. Now here we were, with him inside her, and her repositioning herself between my thighs about to...

Her tongue flicked one continuous lick along the length of my pussy. My back bowed as I let out a shocked cry. My stomach tensed and my knees still wanted to lock together despite everything we'd been through tonight.

She must have sensed the tension in me because she stroked my inner thighs and gave me a reassuring smile. "Relax, Jess," she said.

I glanced at Nathan as he thrust back into her, his expression so warm that it helped ease the tension inside me. My focus remained on him as I let my knees fall out the sides. His eyes moved from my face to my bare breasts, then dipped between my thighs. I followed his gaze and watched as Katie kissed my upper thigh, leaving soft pecks as she worked her way inward to my pussy. I couldn't take the suspense any more and draped an arm over my eyes. I held my breath, letting it out slowly when her tongue glided over me again.

Her blonde hair swept across my skin and her mouth felt so soft and warm. She slipped her tongue between my folds, licking from the bottom of my pussy to the top. "Oh. That's...amazing." I pulled my arm away from my face, watching Nathan as he dug his fingers into her hips and sank inside her. She pushed her tongue into me at the same time, her elbows keeping my thighs spread while she used her finger on my swollen clit.

Nathan drove into her from behind. Her muffled cries against my pussy had excitement surging inside me. I cradled the back of her head and moved my hips, sucking in a sharp breath as her tongue slid over my clit. The wet warmth of her mouth, the silkiness of her hair tickling my inner thigh...the sensations overwhelmed me and I began writhing on the bed, trying to get closer then pulling away when her touch became too intense.

She slipped two fingers inside me, massaging my inner walls while her tongue teased my clit. I let out a deep sigh and moved against her mouth, sliding my palms over my torso. Nathan picked up his pace, plunging deeper inside her. Her mouth left my pussy and she leaned her cheek against my thigh, drawing in air while her fingers kept pushing inside me.

Tension tightened Nathan's jaw as he gripped her waist and slammed into her. The sound of his hips smacking against her ass pushed me closer to my own release. I teased my nipples as Katie's breaths whispered over me. Her soft panting sent pleasure rushing through my body. Her fingers continued their slow, steady rhythm, stroking inside me. I twisted beneath her, lifting my hips from the mattress.

Nathan kept his eyes on mine. Knowing he was unable to tear his gaze away despite being deep inside another woman filled me with warmth. Katie jolted against me as his thrusts gathered strength. I squeezed my breasts and ground myself against her plunging fingers. Her mouth returned to my pussy then she flicked her tongue over my clit. When she drew the swollen nub between her lips and suckled softly, I let out a low moan and tried to press my legs together.

I released my breasts and lifted myself up on my elbows, watching her from a semi-reclined position as her tongue circled my clit. My stomach tightened with the quick breaths coming from me and my arms trembled. She hit a sensitive spot and I cried out, "Katie. Don't stop. Don't stop."

Nathan's gaze travelled over me and a tender smile appeared. My head tipped back, my long hair swinging against my shoulder blades. With Katie's tongue pressing and swirling over my clit, with her fingers working inside me, I lifted my hips and came beneath her mouth. It shuddered through me with intense shocks of pleasure. My breasts thrust out, my nipples were hard and my pussy tingled as shivers spread over my skin. She held me still and kept up her attention until I jerked and moaned with the last spasms of my release.

Everything became a blur of motion after that. I fell against the pillow, gasping for breath and watching as Nathan gripped Katie's hips and plunged into her. She rested her cheek on my lower belly and clasped my breasts. I heard her dragging in air, felt the warm rush of it as she blew it out against my body. I swept her hair from her face to see her flushed skin, her tightly closed eyes and soft, open mouth. Her lower lip still glistened with moisture. I felt such love for her in that moment that it took my breath away.

I reached down and caressed her breast, cupping her flesh, teasing her nipple. The quiet whimpers that left her with every stroke of Nathan's cock told me she wouldn't last much longer.

His thrusts increased in intensity, leaving me unsure where to look. My gaze switched from her mouth to his hard features, watching the depressions his fingers made in her hips, the way his stomach grew taut and his breaths shallow. The sounds he made were guttural and my stomach fluttered because I knew exactly what she was feeling right now.

She finally let out a long moan and her body tensed against mine. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. Fuck. Fuucckk." Her limbs quivered, her harsh cries combined with the dull slapping of Nathan's final thrusts. My eyes shifted to him; his gaze bored into mine, his biceps flexed. He groaned and came with a long, shuddering climax inside her.

* * *

A feeling of calm filled the quiet that followed. Katie moved higher on my body and rested her head against my bare breasts. My fingertips stroked lazy circles over her spine and I gave Nathan a contented smile as he collapsed beside me. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on my lips. "God, I love that you did this for me," he said.

Katie hooked her hands under the backs of my shoulders and hugged me. The weight of her naked body pressing into mine made me feel so close to her that I didn't want the moment to end.

"Ever think she might have done it for me?" she asked, peeking at Nathan from one half-opened eye.

He leaned down and took her mouth in a slow kiss, smiling when she moaned. "I can taste my wife on your lips," he said, "and I've finally found a way to keep you quiet, so I don't care." His gaze moved to me as his head lowered to the pillow. "If it happens again and I get to see you on the giving end...I'm not going to complain, okay?"

I felt Katie smile against my breast. "Me either," she said.

My eyes drifted closed and I shook my head, surprised by how relaxed I felt being with both of them in this way.

I didn't know if it would happen again. It could turn out to be one of those situations where once the curiosity had been satisfied there'd no longer be any desire to take it further. I definitely wouldn't dismiss the idea just yet, though.

Katie's birthday was in sixteen days so I still had a couple of weeks to decide whether or not I wanted to give her a present she'd never forget, too. 



Breathless



I breathlessly answered the door. I had been running around all that Friday morning doing errands and packing up for a weekend trip. 

I, of course, had plenty of things to keep me busy and distracted, thankfully... But all I had REALLy wanted all week long was to see you again. It was unseasonably hot and sticky all week. My mind kept drifting to thoughts of you and I tangled up together. 

I took many tepid showers using the time alone to get myself off, since I had been so hot and bothered. I wanted so badly to kiss you, and for us to devour each other hungrily until we were both satisfied. 

When the email notification from you chimed on my phone, I felt my heart race in anticipation. It was late notice, but you were able to escape from your office for a short while during your lunch hour.

I let you in and you trailed closely behind me and followed me into the bedroom. We embraced, and kissed each other fervently - running hands all over and under clothed bodies. Our small talk was brief and pointed. We each wanted the same thing, with a fiery passion. We wasted no time and set about undressing each other. I fell backward onto the bed pulling you down on top of my naked body. We continued kissing, licking, and nibbling on each other's neck, ears, and lips.

You ran your hand down my breasts, over my stomach, resting between my thighs. You parted my lower lips gently. Your fingers glided deftly over my clit - and I moaned with pleasure. 

Before I knew it, you were between my legs and your amazing tongue went to work licking me all over. You caused intense shivers of pleasure to wash over me. Your fingers plunged deeply inside of me while you brought me over the edge the first of many times with your talented tongue. 

When you finally came up for breath, I wasted no time attacking your mouth with my tongue. Tasting myself in our kisses never fails to turn me on even more. This caused you to get even more rock hard and ready.

You rubbed yourself against my clit with your shaft so teasingly, it was the most exquisite form of torture. Over and over, and then - finally - just barely - sliding the head of your cock into my pulsing pussy. I arched my hips up toward you, and finally you rewarded my patience by pushing the entire length of your hardness inside of me. I gasped both at the sheer pleasure of it, and at how incredibly wet and ready you had made me.

You slid in and out of my soaking wet pussy over and over again.

Effortlessly, I came again while you nibbled on my nipples, and whispered sweet words into my ear. You rhythmically increased speed, slamming into me over and over.

I moaned your name, begging for you to fuck me. You steadily increased your tempo, and the sounds of our bodies hitting together combined with the visuals of the two of us naked and fucking in the mirror built up to another incredible release. 

You pulled out and finished off your climax while rubbing your body against mine. I love it so much when you cum all over me. You always make me so hot.

I kissed you deeply and thanked you for making the drive out to be with me. We lounged around for a short while and enjoyed the afterglow while we chatted, scheming about when we could steal longer than an hour or two tangled up together. 

Unfortunately, our time together this day was very limited, and you really needed to get back to work. 

We jumped into the shower together. I lathered up the shower puff and proceeded to wash your cock with my hands. Your half-hard dick stirred and we both had brief ideas about a round 2. Cooler heads prevailed - you had to be back for an appointment... So we instead began rinsing each other clean and wrapped each other in big fluffy towels. 

We re-dressed and said our goodbyes until the next time. The door closed, and then, you were gone as quickly as you'd arrived. Back to your wife and kid and me back to my husband and family. Our stolen moments together time together leave me, as always, with a lasting smile for the remainder of the day. You left me breathless.