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Tara Ch. 01

By: foxxisamms



Chapter 1: : Homebase

"What?" I exclaimed as I spun around from the coffee maker with my fresh cup of coffee and stared drop jawed at my husband Art. The motion made my robe gape open just enough for him to see my cleavage. I pulled the top of my robe together to keep his mind on the conversation at hand. One glimpse of any breast and the man's mind was gone.

"I said he watched them and that's how Jones got the promotion over Samuels."

" Unbelievable. So your grandfatherly looking boss, Mr. King, is a dirty old man, huh? What in the hell will you have to do before you interview as head of marketing?"

"Well, honey, I'm glad you asked..."

"Oh no Big Boy..."

My husband started to laugh and I joined him. My robe came open again and I saw him look at me with that twinkle in his eye. I placed my coffee on the counter and walked over to him. In anticipation, he scooted his chair back and parted his robe. His dick, my delicious dick stood at full good morning attention. I eased back my robe and took my rightful place on his lap facing him. My pussy moistened as I slipped down on to his morning wood pole. We smiled at each other because we knew it never took much for us to go after each other like hungry teenagers. Besides being best friends, we were excellent lovers together and that kept our marriage happy.

I began sliding up and down his pole, almost standing and then slamming my gooey cunt down on it. Art grabbed my ass to slow me down a bit because I could get carried away, fast. After a few more strokes we found our rhythm. Art closed his eyes and let my love nest cover his meat over and over again until he had to start thrusting back. I could tell he was close to cumming so I started to slam my pussy even harder on to his slick stick. Pleasure shot all through my body as I slid my self hungrily up and down his swollen manhood, my tits flapping so wildly he could barely capture a nipple in his mouth. Finally that one last trip down his long thick manhood and I exploded, luckily he did too and together when yelled at the top of our lungs like we always did, just for fun, just because we live in this huge house with just us two. Plus we always want to give the neighbors something to talk about. I especially hoped the new neighbors young college son would be in town to hear us.

"Oh shit baby," Art says out of breath, "I'm gonna be hard all day if you keep riding like that."

"Well, maybe I'll come by your job and give you a little extra relief."

WORKIN' IT AT THE WORKPLACE

Art thought I was joking, but around 2pm I showed up at his job. Since I work from home, I get my work done faster and have more goof-off time than the law should allow. I walked up to his secretary's desk, Mina. She was a cutie, short and slim, with huge implants that made her look as if she might tip over any minute. She gave me a big smile as I walk up.

"Hello, Tara. Arts right inside."

"Thank you, don't you look sexy in all that pink." I say.

"You like? I'm trying to get one of this lawyer guys on 5 attention."

" I don't think you'll have any problem hon, come in a chat a minute if you can."

I always told her that because I thought just maybe I could get her to do something office-naughty with Art and yes me too. I hadn't had an encounter with a woman since my college roommate and still best friend Devon, but every once in a while, I'd get that urge. Of course I had told Art about it and he loved to tease me. Pointing to women on the street and asking me if I'd do her.

"Hey Big Boy."

Art is on the phone but welcomed me with a smile and a wave. I tossed my purse on of his leather chairs and walked over to him and dropped to my knees. His desk was so huge, you could never tell I when I was back there. As he continued on with his conversation, I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. At my first touch it was swollen, I loved to see that. I plunged his piece into my mouth and gave a long hard suck. He caught his breath, but continued the conversation like a pro. I licked up and down his shaft, sucking and nibbling until he could no longer hold it and blast my mouth full of his hot cum. And still he continued his conversation. I swallowed my husbands offering and walked over to his mini bar and fixed a club soda. He winked at me and held up a finger as if to say he would be one more minute. So I make myself comfortable on his leather couch. I turn towards him and open my legs revealing that I have no panties on. I slowly slide to cool glass of club soda over my pussy which is wet with excitement from giving him head. I slipped my finger in my juicy hole and began stroking myself. Art cleared his throat but the phone conversation was still going strong. I am so caught up in pleasuring myself for him I didn't even hear Mina walk in.

"Is this a bad time?" Mina asked with her eyes on my finger buried inside of my cunt.

I smile at her and continue fingering myself, I know she will leave embarrassed and possible go tell a few girls around the water cooler what she saw.

"Not at all hon." I moan. 

Mina walked past me and I listened for the door to close, it does. But then I heard the blinds close too. What?

She then walks back over to me and bends down and removes my hand from my cunt and replaces it with her collagen injected pink lips. This girl was almost as good as my husband at eating my pussy. I grab the top of her head and edge her closer.

"Oh yeah, little girl, suck that pussy baby." I coax her on. Art has such a big grin on his face, I don't see how he can still maintain his conversation. I did see his other free hand though and it is slowly working his meat behind his desk. Mina darts her tongue in and out of my pussy nearly bringing me to the edge, but I have to stop her, I am such a loud cummer that there would be no way to contain my voice. So I sat up and grabbed her pink top and slipped it over her head. Her tits were pinned into a hot pink lacy bra, which I quickly removed. I wanted to see those plastic boobs and so did Art, if he hadn't already.

They were nice, very firm, I'd ask who her doctor was later but all I wanted were those rock hard nipples in my mouth. As I dove into her breast, I heard Art wrap up his call. I hear him up and out of his seat. While I work on Mina's tits, he raised her short skirt and pushed his dick into her. It took her breath away, her eyes widen with pleasure as she slipped a hand between my legs and then a couple of fingers into my juicy pussy. I peaked at Art but he was lost in this girl's pussy. He was slamming in and out of her so hard, I'm afraid he might hurt her. But she pulled her fingers out of my cunt and then pushed Art away and onto his back. Instantly she was on his pole pounding her pussy for dear life. I crawled over to my husband and planted my pussy on his face and now Mina and I face each other. We swap a warm kiss, she slid her hands under my blouse and squeezed my tits. I help her out by flinging my blouse off to the side. We slide our breast together. Mina was so over the edge I could feel her body tremble as she began to cum, I also see Arts legs shaking wildly which means he's about to cum too. I keep my pussy planted over his mouth because I know he could get pretty loud too. They both cum at the instantaneously. Mina gripped my tits and sucked them like a new born as her juices gush over Arts dick. Art's cry is muffled by my pussy. I want to cum so badly, but I sacrifice this one for another time.

Later after the office was clean and our clothes were back on, Mina hugged me like a little sister and walked back out to her desk. I took a seat on my husbands lap and chat. Then his boss walked into the office.

"Art. Oh I'm sorry." Mr. King turned as if he may walk out. I raise up off of Arts lap.

"Mr. King, it is so good to see you again." He turned and smiled at me. I figured he got instant wood from seeing me sitting on my husbands lap.

"You will have to come over and have dinner with us again. Soon." 

Tara Ch. 01



Chapter 1: A Memorial Day

"Tara, are you up there? We are out of margarita mix."

"Yes, Bob. I'll be down in a few minutes." As I try to catch my breath and wrap my mind around what just happened.

I am a church going, 40-year-old married mother of one son. I work part time as a book keeper and really don't think of myself as anything but a plain Jane homebody. I am 5'3 about 110 pounds, long straight auburn hair, green eyes, and not very gifted in the chest area, I am a small 32B. My husband, Bob, and I have been married for twenty years. He is a very conservative man that is a business lawyer, and loves his golf. Oh, and he is much older than I, he just turned 54 last month. We met at a church picnic and he has taken care of me so I have had no worries, but he has never been an exciting person.

Now that you know about me, let's go back to that day two years ago, when my world changed.

It was the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and Bob and I have always thrown a big party for all of our friends and family. There were about 50 people there, having a great time eating, swimming, playing games, and, of course, drinking. It was about 6pm and it was still hot so I decided to soak in the pool just to cool off for a few minutes before going back to playing hostess. I was in a lavender and white flowered bikini top with a matching bikini shorts bottom. As I was just standing in the shallow end cooling down, a bunch of kids and other people were clowning around in the pool. All of a sudden, Josh grabbed me from behind and picked me up. I screamed "NO! Put me down," as I was kicking my legs, but too late, Josh pulled me backwards with him and under the water I went.

Josh is my my best friend Krista's 20-year-old son. Krista is a friend from church, and is 5 years older than I am and recently divorced after her abusive husband took things a little too far. I have watched Josh grow up as he is only two years older then my son, Colton, and they have always gotten along pretty well.

So there I was gasping for air, standing in the pool looking like a drowned rat. I had had no intention of getting my hair wet, just a little cool down in pool. So, I climbed out of the pool as everyone had a good chuckle at my expense, and I just laughed along. I grabbed my towel and dried off some and decided I would go upstairs to take care of my hair. I looked around to find my husband to tell him so that he could play host. As I glanced around, I saw he was busy playing horseshoes and decided not to bother him. I told my son, who was having fun playing chef on the grill, that I would be back in a few minutes. He said that he had things under control, so I went in and walked upstairs to the master suite. 

I walked into my room, only partially closing the door, and walked into the bathroom, leaving that door wide open. I was standing in front of my vanity with a towel on my head drying my hair, and when I took the towel off my head I looked in the mirror and jumped Josh was standing right behind me.

After my heart slowed down some, I looked at him in the mirror and asked, "What are you doing up here?"

He didn't answer the question. I felt his hands on my hips and his breath in my ear. "You are by far the best-looking woman at this party. I'm sorry for messing up your hair."

"That's okay, and thanks for the compliment." I looked at him in the mirror. I expected him to leave, but he didn't and I didn't ask him to. 

I started running a comb thru my hair with his hands still on my hips. I had a million thoughts go through my head in about one second. Then as I combed my hair to the side, Josh leaned over and gently kissed the base of my neck. I sternly said "Josh, stop that! What do you think your doing?" Without answering he pulled my hips back into him and started kissing my neck and ear. I kept telling him "Stop, I am a married woman. This is wrong," but I wasn't physically making any attempt to get away from him. As he continued, the most amazing tingling feeling went through my body. I hadn't felt that way since I was a teenager. Josh continued his assault on my neck and my body started betraying me even though my mouth said "NO". 

"Please stop, someone could have seen you come up here, and your mother and my family are downstairs." I can't believe that my concern wasn't that it was so wrong, but that we might get caught. Then without thinking, I stopped pretending to comb my hair and put both hands on the vanity, and pushed my butt back into him. He took this as a sign that I was okay with this, and started thrusting against me as I was pushing back. I just closed my eyes, and continued to tell him to "Stop" but my body said yes, and my tone of voice drastically changed. 

Josh's kisses started turning from gentle kisses to soft nibbles, it drove me crazy and my breathing changed. I was starting to breathe harder and a few soft moans even escaped. The hands that were on my hips started to slowly push my bikini bottoms down, and with no thought about the party or my husband downstairs, I started wiggling my hips to help him slide them down my legs. When they hit the floor, I stepped out of them and parted my legs. I have no idea how or when but Josh's swim trunks were off and I could feel his hardness resting on my butt. I then opened my eyes and looked in the mirror and saw Josh not as the boy I had seen growing up, but as a man that I wanted. We made eye contact in the mirror and I know I had lust in my eyes. He asked me politely, "Do you want me to stop?" 

Without thinking or hesitating I responded, "No." With his left arm he pushed the bathroom door all the way shut and locked it. Once I heard the click of the lock I realized that there was no turning back, I was about to commit adultery with someone almost half my age and my family downstairs.

With my hands firmly placed on the vanity, I arched my back and closed my eyes again, showing him how ready I was. He didn't wait for an invitation. Just as my eyes closed I felt the head of his penis sliding up and down the slit of my soaking wet, neatly trimmed, red haired pussy. Then it happened. With one slight thrust, he penetrated me. My eyes opened in amazement as I almost had an orgasm on entry. Here I was a middle age suburban mother, who had never thought about cheating on my loving husband, enjoying the extreme hardness of my best friend's son. 

Once he was fully in, he started a slow rhythm, to be honest it was the most amazing feeling I had ever had during sex. He filled my needs both with his massive love rod and emotionally. My husband though I love him dearly is not very exciting in bed, in fact he's extremely boring and anti-climatic. As Josh's rhythm increased, I started pushing back harder and harder. 

"Fuck me harder," I ordered. I had never cursed like that during sex, but I was having one of those dream-like experiences. With that, he grabbed my hips firmly and increased his pace, and then he took his left hand and slid it around front of me and started playing with my clit. He was giving me the most pleasure I had ever had during sex. Then it happened, the most mind-blowing, earthquake-like orgasm. I let out a long, loud, moaning "YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!" 

Then Josh sped up and repeated "Oh, Tara." I knew he was about to cum so I leaned on my elbows sticking my butt higher up as he slammed away at me. I looked in the mirror and knew that this wasn't going to be a one time thing. I needed this, I needed him, it was like love at first fuck. 

Without thinking or really caring, I told him," Cum in me, let me feel you explode deep inside me." and trust me, he didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed my hips and pulled me hard against him so I could feel him deeper then any man had ever been in me. I could feel him swell and unleashed his young fertile seed into my married pussy. As I felt explosion upon explosion inside me, it hit me, "oh my god I could get pregnant." Once Josh was done filling me with his cum, he leaned over me and kissed my cheek then I turned my head and kissed him deeply feeling like I had finally found the lover I had been waiting for my whole life.

He stood up and his now satisfied penis slid out of me, leaving me with that empty feeling. I just stayed there leaning over the vanity looking in the mirror as he pulled his swim trunks up and snuck his way back down stairs. 

I stayed in that position for what seemed like an hour, but was probably more like two minutes, contemplating what just happened, what I was going to do about it, and that I hoped he doesn't say anything to anyone. With Josh's cum running down my leg, I heard someone calling my name, but I was in a haze. Then as it became louder and clearer, I realized it was my husband looking for me. So I pulled my bottoms back up and responded, "Yes, Bob. I'll be down in a few minutes." With that, I fixed my hair into a pony tail, threw on a T-shirt in case there were any marks left, and started to walk downstairs when I noticed cum running down my leg, and without thinking I scooped it up with a finger and sucked on my finger, thinking, " Wow he even taste good." 

I re-joined the party and swapped glances and smiles with Josh for the rest of the night. When he and his mother went to leave, he gave me a big hug as normal and whispered in my ear, "Can I call you?" 

I said, "Yes" and as he left, I felt like a giddy school girl thinking, "I can't wait until he calls me." I cleaned up after the party took a shower and crawled into bed. While my husband was in the shower, I got a text message saying "TY, I can't wait to see you again."

I responded "No, TY, and I can't wait either. I'll be dreaming all night of you ." 

With that, my husband crawled into bed, gave me a peck on the cheek, said, " Great party, I had a lot of fun, hope you did too." 

I had a big smile on my face and responded," It was a great party, I can't believe how much fun I had." If my husband only knew what I really meant or was thinking. Well, if he knew that, he would divorce me, and, to be honest at that point, it didn't phase me.

Sunday, came and, as usual, I got up and went to church without my husband as he was playing golf. I sat with Krista feeling a little guilty and was thinking, "Oh what did I do , I slept with my best friend's son. What would she do if she found out?" After church, we were talking about normal stuff, when she started saying that Josh couldn't stop talking about me and how great of a time he had last night at the party. I just played it off, but in the back of my mind, I was replaying what happened. The rest of the day, I kept replaying Saturday over and over, getting myself all excited to the point I had to take an afternoon shower to masturbate. I wanted to call or text him so badly, but knew it was a bad idea, in case someone else was with him. The rest of the day went by and no call, I was a little heart broken, feeling that I had just gotten used.

I got up Monday, got ready and went to work, and then it happened at about 10am. I got a text, "Hi, can we meet later today?" My heart was beating so fast I didn't know what to reply. I was thinking, "I am crazy to do this. I could lose everything, my house, my family, my friends, everything, if I get caught."

After about ten minutes of thinking, I responded. ............... "Yes."



Tara Ch. 02



To my surprise I arrived home to find a voice mail from my old college room mate Devon. She'd be in town for a conference and wanted to try and get together for dinner. I smiled knowing Art would be expecting a private little show from Devon and I. Then it occurred to me, why not give Art and Mr. King a show. It would be a "shoe in" for Art's promoton, and I'd get to have a little more fun!

I dialed Devon back.

"Hey Devaroo".

"Oh hey Tara, you got my message?"

"Yeah, but how about this? Instead of staying in some on crummy hotel, you can stay with us. We live near a light rail line and you could commute to the conference, or I could drive you since I work from home now."

"Lucky girl...that sounds great though, plus I'd love to spend time with you and Art. I don't' think I've had the chance to really ever talk to him."

"Well, we are already for you here, so just let me know if you can cancel you hotel plans."

"I will, see ya soon."

"Later." I hung up the phone. Devon, she was a great friend through college and the best roommate. We did all the normal things college roommates do, party, make out with new guys and then kick them out of the dorm room with their eager pricks in their hands.

But I guess what really sealed our friendship was discovering that Devon was bisexual. 

I had been in the science lab for hours one day working on a final. When my eyes started to blur, I figured it was time to get back to the dorm, shower and crash. So I went back to my dorm, stripped and put on my bathrobe, grabbed shower kit and towel and headed to the showers. Because it was the middle of the day, I didn't expect anyone to be in the showers. However, when I walked in I could here at least one going. I started to sort out my toiletries before hopping in the shower, then I heard a voice, a giggle actually. It was coming from the running shower at the very end of the area. I tip toed down thinking some chick must have been showering with her boyfriend.

From the adjacent shower, I used the small bench to step on and look over the top.

Wow! It was Devon and the RA Visha, a very beautiful Indian girl. They were all lathered up and kissing and stroking each other. Then I saw Visha, brace herself against the shower wall as Devon kneeled down and went to work between her legs. Visha was in heaven moaning and grinding her hips. Devon devoured her pussy, gripping her ass from behind and pushing Visha's soapy pussy into her wet face. Visha spread her carmel legs wider, moaned for more and finally came. Then Devon rose back up and they began kissing and fondling each other again. Devon, using the bench took her seat, Visha bet over and looked through a bag and came up with an odd looking dildo, it had two heads like a real penis on either end. Devon opened her legs and Visa began working the extra long dildo into Devon's soapy cunt. Once Devon was getting off and humping the plastic cock, Visha straddled it and it slide perfectly into her cunt. She was able to sit on Devon's legs and they humped the dildo back and forth. Visha threw her head back as she fucked the dildo in and out of her cunt and Devon's. Devon, so cuaght up in the pleasure, licked, nibbled and pulled at her heavy brown nipples.

I looked down and realized that my fingers were toying with my clit and I was getting shaky.

Visha, grabbed Devon while she slid up and down on the dildo and they kissed again, she fondled Devon small breast and Devon returned the touch. Soon both girls were lost in ecstasy as they both reach trembling climaxes. Devon, grabbed Visha and pulled her closer, also pulling the dildo deeper into them both. They huffed and puffed and rode the entire orgasm away.

I was awe stuck. I quietly slipped down and grabbed my things and rushed into one of the stalls so I wouldn't be discovered when they walked out.

I didn't even shower. I went back to my dorm room; Devon was not there so I assumed she was still at Visha's. I called Chad my then football player boyfriend and told him I was on my way. Once I got to his frat house, I literally attacked him. I fucked him so hard and so long, with visions of Devon and Visha in my head, that it scared him. I must have rode his pole three times until I finally had to simply collapse. I don't think he minded one bit.

I soon left Chad's and returned to the dorm where I found Devon on her bed studying, looking like Ms. Innocent.

"I know where you've been." She said as I walked through the door. I smiled and said:

"I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me." I grabbed my shower kit and towel and walked out.

I was already under the shower by the time Devon appeared at my stall. I rinsed off and turned the water off.

"What was that crack about?" She didn't look mad, just surprised.

"Nothin'." I grabbed my towel and started to dry off slowly, trying to see if she were checking me out.

"You saw.."

I smiled at her and said nothing. I slipped on my robe and walked back to the dorm room with Devon. Once we were inside, she started to talk again.

"You saw me and Visha?"

"What in the hell was that thing you two were humpin' on?"

Devon started laughing and so did I. She threw a pillow at me.

"Shut up!"

I threw it back and the wrestling match was on. Still in my robe, I jumped on her bed and attacked her with a pillow; she fired back with stuffed animals. Devon grabbed the pillow from my hands and threw it back on my bed. With no warning, she brushed my robed back and let my tits fall forward and her mouth was hungrily sucking. I felt light head, confused, repulsed, turn on all at once.

"Devon."

But she kept on sucking and grabbing. The familiar warm sensation started to rise between my legs, but still I tried to resisted.

"No, please..."

She pushed me back on the bed and stuck a knee between my legs. I suddenly felt her finger slip into my cunt. She softly teased me as I struggled against her, but truthfully, I had lost my strength and was slowly giving over to the pleasure. Once she saw me calm down, she slid down my body and began tasting my pussy. It was heavenly, way better than Chad, who never finished the job anyway. Devon, licked and sucked my pussy gently until she saw the demand in my hips then she pressed her mouth close and sucked and licked harder until I came, shouting very loudly, so loud the she had to cover my mouth with hers. That sent us into a deep, hungry passionate kiss. I pulled her body closer to mine feeling her tits press into mine. I even open my legs and wrapped them around her. Devon began grinding her pussy against mine. She moaned softly, humping in small circles that soon became thrashing thrust. She kissed my mouth hard and squeezed my tits. Her need to cum made her press her pussy harder into mine. I began to feel the effects of the pussy-to-pussy contact and responded back trying to get my clit to kiss hers. Together we thrust at each other, rushing towards the ultimate orgasm. Devon came first, her whole body trembled.

"Oh, Tara, oh Tara, oh it feels so good. Doesn't it."

Before I could answer I felt that surge start at my spine and race to my cunt. I pulled my legs up higher on to her back attempting to give my clit more contact.

"Ah, ah, ah..." was all I can utter. Again Devon covered my lips with hers to stifle my loud cumming cry. I pushed my pussy into hers fiercely as the orgasm swept over my whole body. My tongue was plunging in and out of Devon's mouth and my whole body was trembling with delight. I clutched her tightly until the moment passed and left me totally exhausted.

She sat up on the small dorm bed and looked down at me and smiled.

"Whoa." Was all I could say. I got up and went over to my bed.

"Well." Devon said, "How was that?"

"I've never, I mean, I'm not gay."

"I'm not either Tara. Ever heard of bi-sexuality?"

"Yes, but I'm not bi-..."

"Well, if you do it once, then no, you are not bi, but if you have any more encounters through out your life then honey I got news for you."

"I need a beer."

So we got dressed and went and hit the bars and hit on guys for the rest of the night. After that time, every once and a while Devon and I would go after each other in a mad frenzy, usually after drinking. We even performed for a couple of drunk nerds once. But then after college, I was basically a good girl. Right up until the encounter in Arts office.



Tara Ch. 02



Tara was up with the sun the next morning. She left her captive bound while she went in search of the stream that she knew flowed more or less parallel to the road on which they had been traveling. She took her time bathing and dressing. By the time she made her way back to the camp, Tara was feeling hungry again. She released the ropes that held Epona's limbs and tersely ordered her to prepare breakfast. Then she sat back down on her bedroll, drew out her sword, and began to sharpen it with a stone. She hadn't yet had time to maintain her weapon after the previous day's battle.

The slave made tea and took out a ration of bread and cheese, which she brought quietly to her owner. Without being told, Epona took a small bite of the food before laying it in Tara's hand, and then a sip from the steaming mug. The warrior jerked her head in approval before she ate. Tara made no offer to share, and Epona didn't ask.

At length, when breakfast was over, the warrior sheathed her weapon and rose to her feet. "Time to pack up," she said curtly. "You watch what I do. This'll be your job after this, understand?" The slender girl nodded. She watched closely as Tara packed their things into the cart, and then threw earth on the remaining coals of their fire. Lastly, the warrior took up the sacks containing her gold. She held them up and fixed Epona with a cold stare. "These," she said, "you never touch. If I even catch you breathing on them, I'll give you the beating of your life."

"Yes, ma'am." Epona flinched and turned aside slightly, as if to shield herself from a blow. 

Tara maintained the menacing look for a moment or two before tossing the sacks into the cart and covering them with the rest of the supplies. "Get in," she ordered. The young woman climbed up. Without being told, Epona moved to where she had been bound the day before. Tara gestured. "Give me your hands," she instructed. "I think you're going to behave yourself, so I'll tie them in front of you this time. Don't make me regret it." The girl shook her head emphatically as the warrior bound her wrists, but said nothing. Tara couldn't quite restrain a smirk as she passed the ropes around Epona's body and tied her back against the wall of the cart. She'd expected the girl to be easy to dominate, and she was certainly being proved right. But again, never be complacent, she thought calmly, wrapping a few lengths of cord around Epona's slim legs. I'd hate to have to waste my time tracking her down if she decided to run.

"Ma'am?" Tara paused in the act of turning away as the soft voice reached her. She turned back. Epona's head was bowed, and she was looking at her through the soft, black fringe of her lashes. "Please, where are we going?"

The warrior rested her hand on the hilt of her sword and put her head on one side. The hint of a smirk played about her lips. "Well, normally I'd say nowhere in particular," she said. "My work usually finds me without any problems. But I've spent nearly two months sleeping under the stars now, and I wouldn't mind a hot supper, a warm bath, and a soft bed in the near future. So we're heading east. There's a village about three days' ride that way; their inn has the best sherry this side of the sea." The prisoner nodded silently. "You've never done much sleeping on the ground, have you?" Tara was faintly amused as Epona shook her head. "You'll get used to it," she said, turning away. "And you'll get used to walking, too, once I've got myself a decent horse and gotten rid of this cart."

A decent horse. Tara's lips curved upward as she swung into her mount's saddle. There was another reason she was heading for this particular town – it was renowned for its powerful horses. It had been a long time since she had owned a proper warhorse. If she could get one, she'd also be able to wear heavier armor again, and even carry a decent shield. She thought fondly of her sacks of coin. Yes, this will be good, she mused. If I can get a few more jobs like this last one, maybe I can get myself set up properly again. Pretend these last two years never happened. Her brown eyes grew pensive.

She had been a fighter all her life, and from the day she'd first left home, she had proved that. From barroom brawls to street muggings to actual battle, Tara had nearly always found a way to come out on top. She'd earned herself the nickname "Terror" from her fellow mercenaries after a particularly punishing brawl, in which she had dealt out three broken noses, many bruised ribs, and far too many black eyes to count; she herself had come out of it without a scratch. Tara had always possessed unusual physical strength, speed and agility, and she used them to great effect.

But even the powerful Tara wasn't immortal, and that had been proven two years ago. She had made many enemies in the course of her life. Until that fateful day, she'd always managed to stay one step ahead of them. Tara had been riding by herself over a flat stretch of land. She'd let the fact that she could see for miles make her a little complacent, and had let herself relax in the cool autumn breeze. Then it had seemed like the road erupted, as brigands burst out of the covered pits where they had been hiding. There had been only confusion and pain and darkness after that.

She had awakened in the dead of night with her face resting in a muddy pool of her own blood. She had been stripped of her armor and weapons, and her horse was nowhere to be found. Countless wounds had scored her flesh; she'd counted five arrow shafts protruding from her legs and left side. After a while, she'd realized that she wasn't too far from the place where she'd been ambushed. Even though she'd been more than half dead, Tara had managed to drag her broken body fifty yards back to the road, and collapse there. She'd then lain there for two days before a passing merchant spotted her and took her to a nearby town, where she had finally been seen by a healer. She never did find out which of her enemies had finally managed to track her down.

Her physical recovery had been slow, and her mental one even slower. Where she had been cold and ruthless before, she became even more so; her temper, which had always been short, became deadly. She'd been feared; now the tales of her exploits became almost legendary. Tara had lost track of how many souls had fallen under the pitiless edge of her blade. Hundreds, for sure. Maybe even thousands.

Tara's dark eyes warily scanned the road ahead as they traveled. Occasionally they moved upward to scrutinize the trees that overhung the road. She would be glad to get out of these woods, she reflected. She much preferred to travel in open spaces, where most threats could be seen and met properly. Tara idly loosened her sword in its sheath. Even her boundless energy had been a bit taxed by this last round of fighting. It had taken three long days of battle to bring down the city completely, and she'd had next to no sleep in that time. It would be good to rest at an inn for a while, she thought. Maybe I'll stay three or four days, instead of one or two. Might as well get fully rested up before heading out again.

At noon, Tara stopped to let the horse drink and rest for a while. She gave him a bit of a rubdown, as well; a bit less thorough than the one she'd given him the night before. Then, as she hitched him back up to the cart, she thought of her prisoner. Oh, right. I suppose I'd better check on her.

Epona looked at her timidly. She looked rather miserable, Tara thought. Coolly, the warrior checked the girl's bonds to ensure they weren't chafing her too badly. Then she pulled the cork from their water skin. "Here," she said shortly. "Open your mouth." The slave obeyed, and Tara let her have a few mouthfuls. With that, the mercenary headed back for the horse, and swung astride.

They made fairly good time that day. Tara found herself in a good mood by the time they stopped for the night. She went around to the back of the cart and released her prisoner. "Set up camp," she ordered as she pulled the cords from Epona's wrists. "I'll deal with the horse. You can start my supper once you've done that." The black-haired girl nodded quietly. Tara began to attend to the russet hide of the horse.

Horses had always been a private pleasure of Tara's. She not only enjoyed riding them, but also taking care of them. She couldn't really put her finger on why. It was something about the way a horse's coat looked after she'd groomed it – as smooth and shiny as satin. She hummed absently as she brushed him down, casting a glance at Epona every now and then as she worked.

It was interesting to watch the girl, Tara thought. Even though Epona's limbs were long enough to be almost ungainly, her movements were never clumsy. She moved with a certain subtle grace that peasant girls could never quite match. She almost reminds me of a yearling colt, Tara thought, grinning at her own flight of fancy. She turned her gaze back to the horse, eyeing his gleaming coat with professional satisfaction. "There we are. That's better, isn't it?" she murmured. "Let's tether you over there. I think I see some nice, thick grass you could have for supper."

Epona had done a good job of setting up the camp. She'd obviously paid attention the night before; she'd even placed her owner's sleeping mat on the same side of the fire as before. Tara paused, and then glanced into the back of the cart. The two sacks of money still lay where she'd thrown them that morning. Good. She didn't touch them. Tara took them up and, crossing to her bedroll, tucked them beneath the head of it. Then she dropped down onto it, cross-legged, and began to sharpen and polish her blade. Her dark eyes still followed Epona.

The girl seemed to be preparing a soup of some kind, judging by the smell that was wafting from the pot. The firelight played over her pale face, casting shadows that highlighted her delicate cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Tara's lips curved appreciatively. She broke off for a moment to inspect her sword. The blade was gleaming like glass. The warrior sheathed it and sat back to resume watching her captive. Nice, she thought, her gaze sliding over the boyish figure, and the long arch of Epona's back. Very nice, indeed. She had a pleasant mental image of running her hands down that smooth curve. Tara's grin grew almost predatory.

Tara couldn't really remember when her interest in sex had begun to develop, but once it had, she'd approached the subject in the same way she approached everything else – directly. She had gathered some money together and gone to the nearest brothel, where she'd spent the night experimenting with lovers, both male and female. She had much preferred the women. Well, she'd thought then, that's that. From that point onward, Tara had mostly confined her attentions to females. She knew, of course, that her predilection wasn't acceptable in most respectable circles, but that didn't really bother her. Most of what she did wasn't considered respectable.

Epona had finished her work. She brought a full bowl to where Tara sat, tasted it silently, and held it out. The warrior took it and ate. It tasted good; she jerked her head in approval and tossed back the empty bowl. "More," she said curtly. The slave did as she was told. Tara drank a second time. "More," she said again, thrusting the bowl into Epona's hands.

The dismay that crossed the slave girl's face at this amused Tara. She knew Epona must be very hungry by this time, since she hadn't given her anything that morning, and very little the night before. It was likely that there was only about another bowlful of food left, and the slave girl was thinking about going to bed hungry. She watched with continued amusement as Epona quietly poured out the rest of the soup and brought it to her. Tara took it, leaned back against the trunk of a tree, and drank a little. "Tell me more about yourself, Epona," she said congenially. "You told me you're the youngest daughter of some lord or other. How well did you know your father?"

"Not very well," the girl admitted. "I was mostly with my mother or my sister, or with my tutors, ma'am. Father was always busy with the estate, or with running the city...my brothers and half-brothers got to see him sometimes, but I didn't, really." Her green eyes wistfully followed the bowl as Tara raised it to her lips again.

"Did any of your family survive?" Tara asked curiously, pausing in her eating.

Abruptly, the girl turned her face away. There was a moment's pause before she answered. "No, ma'am." Her voice was choked.

"None of them?" The warrior raised a brow and took another mouthful of soup. Epona shook her head silently. "Hm. I can understand them killing your father and brothers, since they were fighting us, but we could have gotten a good price for your sisters, if any of them were half as pretty as you. Waste of decent slaves." Tara shook her head in disgust. "Kernos never did have any sense of the value of things." The captive shot Tara an astonished look. Tara could see horror and revulsion in the wide, green eyes. She felt another ripple of amusement. Good. Better that you know what kind of a monster I am. Easier to keep you in line, that way. "They were killed in front of you, I suppose?"

"My sister was." The answer was almost inaudible. "They...they cut off her head, ma'am."

"Well, at least it was quick." This earned Tara another horrified, tearful look. The warrior took another calm mouthful of soup. Is she really just going to let me talk like this and eat all the food right in front of her, without a protest? Gods, she really is a little mouse. No spunk at all. She grinned. This should be a fun night. "Tell me, Epona. You've never been married. Did you ever have a beau?" Epona shook her head, still visibly fighting back tears. "So you've never bedded anyone, then."

"N-no. Of course not!" There was obvious shock on Epona's face as she protested.

Even better. Tara finished the soup and casually tossed the bowl in the slave girl's direction. Epona caught it. "Clean up," she ordered. "Don't dawdle. When you're done, bring me the food satchel." The captive did as she was told. Tara's eyes followed her until she was once again kneeling before her, holding out the bag in which they kept their food.

Coolly, the warrior took the satchel from her and rummaged through it. After some searching, she found one of the small packets she was looking for. She opened it and took out a piece of hardtack about the size of the palm of her hand. "Bring me the water skin," she instructed. Epona wordlessly obeyed. Tara filled a cup with water, and then put both cup and bread into the slave's hands. "Since you've done pretty good work today, I'll let you eat," she said calmly. "Soak that in the water until it's soft enough for you."

"Thank you, ma'am." The green eyes misted, but didn't meet Tara's.

Tara watched with some interest as Epona began to nibble on the edges of her hardtack. The girl ate neatly and politely. Tara had to admit that it was a rather nice change from the wolfish devouring that her fellow mercenaries usually indulged in. She turned her attention to Epona's hands. Like the rest of her, they were small and slim. She couldn't help but wonder how those neat little paws would feel against her skin. Tara smirked; the grin widened a moment later as she noticed how Epona was shifting uncomfortably. The scrutiny had not gone unnoticed.

Enough of this, Tara decided abruptly. I want it now. She unbuckled her belt and removed her mail shirt. Then, reaching out, she plucked the bit of remaining hardtack and the cup from Epona's hands. The slave stared at her in mingled dismay and bewilderment. "You might as well start learning some of the other duties I expect you to perform for me," Tara said calmly. "Take off your tunic. Now."

"My...tunic?" The girl's hands drifted to the ties at her throat that held the garment closed. Her green eyes were full of confusion as she began to obey, but she didn't question the order. Soon the laces were loosened. Epona pulled the garment over her head, leaving her naked to the waist.

The warrior's breath caught in her throat for a moment. "Not bad," she murmured. "Not bad at all." Epona's bewilderment grew. Tara could see the unvoiced questions in her face, and – in the very depths of the wide eyes – the first beginnings of fear. Like a predator scenting blood, Tara felt her heart rate rise. With a wolfish smile, she reached out, caught the slave girl firmly by the scruff of her neck, and pulled her forward into a bruising kiss.

"Mmph!" The slave uttered a squeak of horror and alarm. Tara could feel her squirming. She tightened her grip and wrapped her other arm around Epona's waist, pinning her slender body firmly against her own. With the smaller girl restrained, Tara took her time, drawing her tongue slowly across Epona's upper lip before pressing through them to gain access to her mouth. She felt the slave's struggles increase at this. Tara smirked and explored Epona's mouth thoroughly, savoring the taste of her. At last, she pulled away.

Epona was gasping and whimpering. She tried to get free, but Tara easily maintained her grip. "Please," the captive begged. "Please..."

"Quiet." The warrior's icy glare froze Epona's whimpers in her throat. Deliberately, Tara kissed her again, and then moved her face until her lips brushed against the shell of the girl's ear. "You belong to me," she whispered. "You might as well get used to that. I won you with my sword, Epona. You're mine. All of you." And she ducked her head down to bite down lightly on the side of the slave's slender neck.

"No. No. Please." The smaller woman struggled harder, bringing up her hands to push against Tara's head. With a soft grunt, Tara swept Epona's legs out from under her and put her neatly on her back. The girl cried out. "Stop it! Please, stop it. I c–can't...this is abomination..."

Tara felt a sudden flash of anger. She rose up to her knees and caught Epona by the throat. The movement was terrifyingly swift. She glared down into the petrified green eyes beneath her. "I told you to be quiet," she snapped. "Now you stop whimpering, and you stop fighting me. Understand?" Epona squirmed again, and the fingers around her throat tightened like a vise. "Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, ma'am." The slave shut her mouth tightly and fell limp. Her body still quivered with sobs, but she was making a valiant effort to stay silent.

"You'd better," Tara growled. "Disobey me again, and I will beat you." As quickly as it had flared, her anger cooled again. She lowered herself onto the shivering girl and resumed her interrupted work.

Normally, Tara would have stopped and immediately begun coaching a slave in how to touch her. This time, however, she found herself enjoying Epona's reactions enough to keep going. The girl was incredibly responsive. And all the while, those huge green eyes stared up at her, full of a mixture of fear and confusion and pleasure that Tara somehow found very endearing. The warrior's touch grew gentler. "That's right," she murmured half to herself, stroking her palms up and down Epona's sides. "This is your first time, isn't it?"

"Y–yes, ma'am." Epona squirmed and gasped helplessly.

"Hm. Maybe I'll take it slow, then." Tara's mouth trailed kisses down the side of the girl's neck to the sharp line of her collarbone. Her skin tasted slightly salty. Tara felt Epona stiffen as her lips moved lower. "Relax," she murmured, her mouth moving against her captive's body. "I'm not going to hurt you." Her hands slid down to pluck at the belt at Epona's waist.

The slave followed her owner's orders about silence and submission to the letter, right up until the end. She did let out a strangled yelp when Tara's hand first slid in between her thighs, and a sharp cry or two when her release finally came. The warrior stroked her gently until the last tremors had rocked the girl's slim body. Then she pulled Epona against herself, holding the black head that lay against her shoulder like a child's. The slave was shivering violently; soft little sobs shook her. "Shh," Tara reproved. "Quiet, now. No one's hurt you."




Tara Ch. 02



"I can't....please, I've...I d–don't..." Epona's voice was broken.

"Shh," Tara said again. "You're all right." Small hands clung tightly to the front of Tara's shirt. She held the trembling little body until it finally lay still. Then she peered down. Epona's eyes were closed, and her head was dead weight on Tara's chest. She was asleep.

I really should make her get dressed and tie her up for the night, Tara reflected. But then again, it is rather nice to have my bedroll warmed again. After some deliberation, she reached back to pull her blanket over the two of them, making sure that Epona's naked form was well covered. I'll just leave it for tonight. I can always bind her again later, if I need to. With that, she rested her head on her arm and closed her eyes.

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The morning's waking was a pleasant one. Tara opened her eyes to find the lithe form of her slave still clasped in her arms. She had cuddled closer during the night, and the smooth lines of her boyish figure were pressed tightly against the more pronounced curves of the warrior's body. Tara peered down at Epona's sleeping face in mingled amusement and curiosity. She could still see the marks of the tears on the girl's white cheeks. I'll have to let her bathe this morning, the warrior thought calmly. Maybe I'll just take her down to the brook with me. The idea did present some interesting possibilities. Tara considered them as her right hand began to wander aimlessly over Epona's lean back. Her skin felt pleasantly warm and smooth.

After a moment or two, the slave stirred and woke. Tara watched as confusion flitted momentarily through the moss-green eyes. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss Epona's soft mouth. "Good morning," she said. The younger girl blinked at her, but said nothing. "Did you sleep well?" Tara murmured, moving down to draw her tongue around the sharp corner of her jaw.

"Yes, ma'am." 

The warrior felt the slave shiver as she whispered. She wanted to take Epona again. A quick glance up at the sky told her that it was already late; reluctantly, she gave her prisoner's earlobe one final nibble before releasing her grasp on the girl's body. "Get up," she said shortly. "You can wash with me this morning. Bring your clothes."

Although it was early summer, the stream that flowed through the forest was still icy cold. Tara stripped and bathed quickly. Epona hesitated on the bank, shivering, her arms wrapped around herself. The warrior gestured. "Come." The girl obeyed, wading out into the knee-deep water. "Kneel down," Tara commanded. With a shudder, Epona complied. The warrior dipped her bar of lye soap into the water and efficiently began to clean her slave's pale skin, as she would have groomed the hide of one of her horses. "Dunk your head," she said at length. "I don't want you getting lice or something. The things are murder to get rid of." Epona silently ducked her head beneath the water, and Tara washed the black locks. Then they dressed and returned to their campsite.

Without being told, Epona went at once to the fire and began to rummage through the satchel that held their food supplies. Tara grinned and nodded approvingly. Good, good. That's what I like to see. Keeps her mouth shut and does her job. She inspected her mail shirt, and then her blade; both seemed to be in good working order. The weight of the armor felt good as she buckled her belt around her waist. With a sigh of satisfaction, she sat down to watch the girl work.

Although Tara had owned a slave twice before, she couldn't recall having enjoyed them as much as she was enjoying Epona. Clytie, her first, had been a muscular, white-blond girl; Tara had bought her so that she could help carry her heavier equipment. It had worked out fairly well, although the first three or four weeks had been a bit rocky. Clytie had not been a docile slave at all. Tara had wound up having to give her three or four hard whippings before she'd finally begun to obey without a sneer. The second had been Meriel, a quiet little brunette. As soft-spoken as she was, though, Meriel had also had a stubborn streak, and it had cost Tara considerable pains to finally break it.

But this time, I've got it right. Tara smirked as she watched Epona stir the pot of cooking porridge. I don't think I'll have to break this one much at all. She already cringes and submits. Her grin widened. Yes, I think this will work out well.

Epona broke her train of thought by approaching with her breakfast. The warrior ate with some appreciation. When she'd emptied her bowl, she eyed the slave for a moment. "Good work," she said calmly. "And I'm glad I didn't have to tell you what to do." Epona bowed her head quietly. "If there's any porridge left, you can eat before you pack everything up." The smaller girl nodded and turned to obey. Tara went to take care of the horse.

The beast seemed happy enough; there was still enough thick grass around him that Tara judged she wouldn't have to graze him before they left. She led him down to the brook to drink, and then brought him back to the road to hitch him to the cart. The slave had already finished most of the packing. Tara eyed her as she buckled the straps of the horse's harness. "How'd you like to ride with me today, instead of being tied up behind?" she said. Epona looked at her uncertainly before nodding. "Good. Saves me the trouble of having to check on you all the time." Tara turned back to her work. "There's a feedbag in the cart somewhere. Go fill it with as much grass as you can, in case we can't find good pasture for this fellow later."

It didn't take long for the work to be done. The quiet captive returned in a few minutes with a full bag, which she put in the back of the cart. Then she tentatively moved closer to where Tara was rubbing the horse down. The warrior looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "Does he have a name?" Epona murmured, timidly brushing her palm against the beast's haunch.

Tara raised a brow. "No. He doesn't."

"Oh." The slave let her hand drop and looked away.

This was the first time Epona had really tried to initiate something like a real conversation. Tara looked at her thoughtfully as she wiped her hands on a rag. "You like horses, Epona?"

"Yes, ma'am." The girl nodded.

"That fits, seeing how you're named after a horse goddess." Tara tossed the rag carelessly into the cart. "Don't get too attached to this one. He'll be gone once we get into town."

The wide, green eyes flicked briefly over Tara's face, and dropped again. "He...should still have a name."

The warrior paused and gave the slave girl a hard look. Epona said nothing, and didn't meet the woman's gaze. Finally, Tara decided that the girl's words hadn't been defiant. "If you want to give a name to a horse you're only going to ride for two more days, fine. I'm certainly not going to waste my energy on it." She swung into the saddle and reached down. "Give me your hand." Tara grasped Epona by the arm. With a burst of strength, she lifted the girl up into the saddle in front of her. Epona gave a little gasp at this, and Tara grinned, slipping her left arm comfortably around the younger woman's waist. She dug her heels into the horse's flanks.

They rode in silence for some time. By force of habit, Tara fell into watchfulness, her dark eyes flicking over the road ahead. After nearly an hour, the warrior sighed a bit. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Ma'am?" Tara could hear the puzzlement in Epona's voice.

"The horse," the warrior said, with a touch of impatience. "You were so all-fired worried about his having a name. I figured you must already have an idea."

There was a pause. "Well...yes, ma'am. I thought maybe Ruskin."

Now, that was somewhat interesting. Tara raised a brow. She'd half-expected something mundane and slightly irritating – something like "Beauty." She thought a moment. "That means little redhead. Not a bad name, I suppose, if he must have one."

"Yes, ma'am." Epona craned her neck to look up at her. "How did you know that?"

"And why shouldn't I know it, little highborn slave of mine?" Tara asked coolly. "Do you think that because I can swing a sword, I must naturally be some stupid, illiterate barbarian?"

"No, ma'am." The warrior felt the captive shiver as she shrank back down in the saddle. "I...I'd never say that."

"That's right. You wouldn't. And you'd better keep it that way, if you'd like to keep that smooth, white back of yours unmarked." Tara slipped her hand up underneath the fabric of Epona's shirt to rest possessively against her belly. Both of them fell silent for a while. "I do read, you know."

"Oh." Epona's voice was a mere whisper. She said nothing more.

Tara sat back in the saddle, her fingers playing idly over the smooth skin beneath them. "In fact," she said, warming to her subject, "I just got my hands on something interesting before this last campaign. It was an epic about the gods of these eastern kingdoms. You have some interesting legends here." She grinned. "I particularly liked your Ares. He seems like my type."

Epona shivered. "He's the god of war."

"That's the one," Tara said cheerfully. "He seems to divide that up with Pallas Athena and Artemis, though. Now, in my home country, they leave all that up to the whims of The Morrigan. It's much more efficient to have only one god doing it, I think."

There was silence again for a few minutes. "Ma'am?" came Epona's soft voice. Tara grunted. "I...I heard them call you Tara, back at the camp." The girl's black head lowered. "I've heard stories, ma'am, about a western warrior named Tara with hair the color of blood. She's slaughtered whole villages by herself. They say she knows no pity, and her father was Ares himself." Pause. "Are...are you...?"

A cool smile spread over Tara's face. She patted Epona's soft belly. "I've been called the daughter of Ares once or twice," she said calmly. "That's why I got my hands on that book, actually. I wanted to find out who was being accused of being my father." She felt the slave girl flinch under her touch; the slender body began to quiver. "It's true that I don't know pity, but it's also true that I don't waste things," Tara murmured. "You don't have to fear for your life so long as you obey me." Leaning forward, the warrior caught Epona's delicate ear between her lips and nipped it lightly. "But I'm sure that won't be a problem, will it?"

"No, ma'am." There was tension in Epona's body, but she didn't pull away. Tara smiled and sat back in her saddle. She pulled the girl against herself. After a moment or two, Epona relaxed again; her dark head rested back against the warrior's chest. Tara's attention turned back to the long road ahead.

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The town of Argos was still much as Tara remembered it. She let an easy grin relax her face as she rode toward the inn, and slipped her hand up against Epona's abdomen. The slave shivered and tucked herself deeper into the crook of Tara's arm. The warrior looked down at her. "Scared?"

Epona bit her lip. "I've...never been away from home before, ma'am," she admitted softly.

Tara was amused yet again. Little mouse. She patted the girl's belly. "Just you keep me happy, and you won't have to worry about what anyone else might do," she said. "No one you'll see here is half as dangerous as me." Epona nodded silently. "We'll go get a room first, and then do some buying and trading." The warrior looked fondly in the direction of the market. She was looking forward to being properly outfitted again. And I think I'll make sure of you while I'm at it, my little mouse girl, she thought, glancing at the smithy that lay just down the street. Might as well, since we're here.

They had reached the inn. Tara swung out of the saddle and lifted Epona down. A boy approached them from the direction of the inn's stables; Tara held up a hand. "Don't bother putting up my horse," she said calmly. "I'm selling him." Her dark eyes flicked to her slave. "Just hold the reins and wait here," she instructed. "I'll get the room." Epona nodded, reaching obediently for Ruskin's bridle as the warrior turned away.

Once Tara had secured their room and left their supplies there, they headed for the blacksmith's. The warrior spent well over an hour looking at what he had to offer and haggling for what she wanted. She finally settled on a new set of bracers, leg armor, a crested helm, a bronze shield, and a short hauberk of leather and brass. Tara stacked her purchases neatly in a corner. "I'll come back for them in a couple of hours," she said as she counted the coins into the blacksmith's callused hand.

"As ye wish," the man said agreeably. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"I'll want something else, too." Tara paused and jerked her head in Epona's direction. The slender girl was peering curiously at a pile of gleaming new horseshoes. "You do slaves here, right?"

He frowned. "Aye," he said. "But a little creature like that? Why would ye want to..."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," the warrior said coldly. "I'll want that done when I get back, too. How much?"

The blacksmith nodded slightly. "Twenty." Tara paid him and jerked her head in silent thanks. Without another word, she turned and left the smithy, gesturing to Epona as she went. The slave followed meekly.

Horse trading was a pleasure that Tara hadn't had the opportunity to indulge in for a long time. For close to half an hour she simply wandered through the market, looking over the selection. Finally she gave a nod and moved back to where Epona was quietly waiting, her small hand closed tightly on Ruskin's reins. "This way," she said brusquely. The dark-haired girl followed her without comment to the corral she'd chosen.

The trader – a dark-haired man wearing a battered, wide-brimmed hat – leaned against the corral gate and eyed Tara as she approached. "Looking to get yourself a new mount, little lady?" he asked. "Or are you just wanting me to take that little carthorse off your hands?"

"A little of both, actually," Tara said calmly. Her gaze moved to the beast that had caught her eye – a massive, black warhorse. He's got to be eighteen hands high at the shoulder, if he's an inch. She kept her expression mild. "How much for that one?" she asked casually. A shrewd look came into his eyes.

They haggled for some time. At one point, the huge beast was caught and led to where Tara stood. The warrior felt his smooth hide, and the hard muscles beneath it; examined his hoofs, each one smooth and healthy; stroked his nose, and looked into the intelligent black eyes. She had trouble maintaining her appearance of nonchalance. In the end, though, it was worth the effort. She managed to buy the powerful gelding, along with all the needed harness, for a reasonable price.

When she finally turned back to her silent slave, she saw that Epona's eyes were full of awe. The slave stared up at the massive beast in appreciation. "He's beautiful, ma'am," she said softly. "I don't even think my father's horses were so beautiful."

"He's not bad," Tara agreed lightly, but couldn't help giving a bit of a grin. "Follow me. We'll get him set up back at the inn before we pick up my things at the blacksmith's." Epona nodded and fell into step behind, but not without another admiring look at her owner's new mount.

It was rather gratifying to see the awed looks on the faces of the stableboys at the inn when Tara gravely handed them the reins of her new horse. She smiled inwardly as she turned away. Used to be that most people would look at me that way right off, she mused. Well, once I've got my new armor on, maybe I'll start looking a bit more like I did before that ambush. Then I'll have the look and the reputation both. Her dark eyes flicked to the slave girl who was walking silently at her heels. And having a little mouse to follow me around won't hurt any, either. Tara grinned.

The smith looked up as the two women entered. Tara went to her pile of things and began to nonchalantly put the armor on. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"Aye, soon as ye wish." The man gestured to his furnace; the door of it was slightly ajar, and Tara could see that the tips of several irons had been buried deep in amongst the glowing coals. She nodded calmly, fastening a buckle on her hauberk and taking up a piece of leg armor. "I have a few marks," the blacksmith said, "but I thought maybe you'd like this one best, warrior." He pulled one of the irons from the furnace and showed it to her. The tip of it glowed red with heat, but Tara could see that it was shaped like a small sword. She raised a brow and nodded her approval. "Thought as much. Would ye like it done now?"

"Yes, do it now," Tara said dismissively. "I've been on the road for a while, and I'm looking forward to some hot food and cold ale. No sense wasting time." She looked over at Epona, who had been listening to this exchange with obvious uncertainty. "Go to him," she ordered. "Don't make a scene."

The green eyes widened, and the slave began to tremble. "But...but ma'am, I...please, what have I done wrong?"

"Nothing. I just want you marked. Do as you're told." Tara paused in the act of fastening a strap at her ankle to fix the girl with a threatening glower. Epona paled. There was one more moment of hesitation before the slave slowly went to where the smith waited. "Mark her shoulder, please," the warrior said calmly, turning back to her task. "I don't want her face spoiled." She began to buckle the straps around her other leg. There was silence for a while, and then a couple of whimpers from Epona – and then, as Tara pulled on her bracers, the girl let out a piercing scream of pain. The warrior thrust on her helm, took up her new shield, and turned to look.

The blacksmith was just putting the iron into a nearby bucket of water. Steam billowed up in clouds. Epona was down on her knees at his feet, huddled into a ball. Her skinny shoulders were shaking with sobs. As Tara watched, he stooped down to pat Epona's back with his broad hand. "There now, lass. It's over," he said quietly. "You just take a minute, if you need one." She cringed away from his touch.

Tara approached and looked down at the weeping girl, her dark eyes thoughtful. The girl was still deathly pale and whimpering with pain. Tara eyed the angry red mark on the white shoulder; it had been cleanly done. She nodded. "Good." Reaching down, she grasped Epona's slender wrist and drew her to her feet. The slave wavered, and nearly fell; Tara held her steady. "Easy, now. You're all right." 

"I'm g...gonna faint..." Epona's knees gave way. With a weary sigh, Tara slowly lowered her to the floor. Before she could ask, the blacksmith handed her a cup of water. The warrior jerked her head in thanks and stooped over the slave, rubbing at her cheeks until the green eyes opened again. "Ma'am...?" Epona muttered, with obvious confusion.

"Drink," Tara said tersely, and thrust the water into the girl's hands. "You passed out." Shivering, Epona sucked at the liquid. Some of the color returned to her white cheeks after a while. "Doing better?" The moss-green eyes looked up fearfully, and the dark head nodded. "Good. Up you get, then, and we'll go back to the inn. You'll feel better once we've had a good supper and a rest." She grasped Epona's upper arm and pulled her up. The smaller girl seemed a bit wobbly, and a little whimper still escaped her lips every now and then, but she trailed after her owner without a word of complaint.

Within half an hour, Tara was seated at a table at the inn, with a full plate of stew and a mug of cold ale before her. She ate with gusto. Ah, just as good as I remember it, she thought, with a burst of nostalgic affection. She hadn't had occasion to come by the town of Argos since well before the ambush, but she had pleasant memories of relaxing here with fellow mercenaries after long marches. She took a long pull at her mug, glancing to her left. Epona sat quietly in the corner, wrapped in Tara's gray cloak. She was picking quietly at her food; she still looked quite pale.




Tara Ch. 02



Tara waved to one of the tavern girls. "Another ale," she said shortly. One arrived a minute or so later, and the warrior plunked it before Epona, who looked up at her in faint puzzlement. "Arm still hurt?" The slave's lip quivered, and she nodded. "Drink that, then," Tara said calmly, turning back to her own supper. "Do you good. Eat, too. If it still bothers you after that, I've got some things upstairs in my pack that'll help."

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Epona slowly brought the mug to her lips and took a tentative taste. The wince and hesitation afterward confirmed Tara's suspicions. Little mouse-girl's never even tasted beer before. Gods, what did they do – wrap her up in lamb's wool and keep her in a closet? The warrior drained her own mug and sent it back for a refill. She noted that Epona kept sipping at her ale, and seemed to have decided that she liked it.

"Why, Tara! That is you, isn't it?" The voice rose above the buzz of the tavern crowd. The warrior turned in her seat to find a heavily-armored figure approaching her table. It was a short, compact woman with olive skin and dark brown hair. "Tara," the woman cried again, grinning. "Tara, the Terror of the West! How are you, you old warhorse? I've not seen you these three years!"

"Drea?" The red-haired woman rose from her seat to gravely clasp the forearm that was extended to her. "It's been a while. You haven't changed at all."

"Can't say the same for you, woman. Look at you!" Drea stepped back to look Tara over admiringly. "I swear you've actually got more muscle than when I last saw you. I didn't even think that was possible." She waved at a passing barmaid. "Hey, let's have a couple of pitchers, here." Without waiting for an invitation, she plunked herself down in an empty chair. "So what're you doing back in these parts?"

Tara sat back down. Her eyes were guarded. "Just trading for some supplies and things," she said calmly. "I'm resting up. Just came from a raid."

"I've been hearing some pretty crazy stories about you lately, Terror." The smaller soldier grinned as a mug of beer appeared before her. She picked it up, took a long drink from it, and waved it in Tara's direction. "Is it true you took out most of the town of Pylos by yourself last year? I heard some bard in Mykenea tell that story."

The red-headed warrior smiled thinly and tipped the rest of her ale down her throat. "More or less," she said. "I was with a raiding party, and they decided to retreat while I was trapped by myself inside the city. Kind of upset me. I guess I must have taken that out on the locals." 

"Damn." Drea shook her head with an admiring smirk. "I swear, you've gotten even crazier than you used to be when we fought together. I wouldn't have thought you even could be." She thumped the table with her hand and drank off the rest of her first mug of ale in one gulp. "Great luck running into you! You looking for more work? There's a bunch of us looking to pull a job, and we need another fighter."

"Depends," Tara said coolly, pouring herself another glass of ale and taking a few more bites of her stew. "What's it pay?"

"Well, you won't lack for toast in the morning. It's..." The smaller warrior stopped abruptly, her eyes coming to rest on Epona's small frame. "Hey, who's your friend?"

"New slave." Tara chewed her mouthful of bread and stew absently. "Got her a couple days ago."

"Really?" Drea's brown eyes sparked with interest. "What's she look like?" And she reached across the table toward the gray hood that was pulled up around Epona's face.

Like a striking snake, Tara's hand flashed out, catching Drea's arm by the wrist. Her brows lowered over dark eyes that were suddenly cold. Startled, the smaller woman looked at her. "She's mine." Tara's voice was icy.

There was a tense pause. Drea stared at her uneasily, shifting in her seat, but didn't try to pull her arm away. "All right, Tara," she said quietly. "I'm not trying to take her. Just curious, that's all."

Slowly, Tara released her grip. She could see the wariness in Drea's face, and knew that she'd rather shocked her. Maybe I kind of shocked myself, too, Tara thought ruefully, turning her attention back to her half-finished supper. I guess that was a bit of an overreaction. Gods, I need rest more than I thought. "Fine," she said dismissively. "Quit hiding in my damn cloak, Epona."

The slave girl timidly pulled the gray hood back from her head and looked up at Drea. Tara's dark eyes flicked up to the smaller warrior's face. "So what's this job?" she asked coolly.

"Er...right." Drea glanced at Epona with obvious admiration, but quickly turned back to the conversation. Her voice lowered. "We've got word about a gold shipment being taken from Korinth to Megara. It'll be guarded, of course, but we figure we can take them out at that narrow pass just outside Korinth. It'll be a good amount of gold, Tara. And if you join in, there'll be twelve of us to split the proceeds – not bad pay for a day's work."

Tara's lips tightened. "When?"

"We figure to head out in four days." The smaller woman poured herself another mug of ale and grinned, resting one muscular arm on the tabletop. "Gives you time to rest up first, Terror." She paused. "So what d'you say? Are you in?"

The red-haired fighter tapped her fingers on the table. "Give me the night to think about it," she said calmly. "I'll give you my answer tomorrow, if you're around."

"I'm around." Drea nodded. "We're all staying in this inn, actually. Them's my boys over there." – Waving her arm in the direction of a large knot of disreputable-looking men. "They'll be glad enough to have you along, if you decide to come." Then she sat back in her seat with a casual air. "So tell me, Terror. What you been doing with yourself?"

They chatted for an hour or two. Tara had to admit that she rather enjoyed reminiscing about some of their old campaigns; she'd forgotten about a lot of it, what with the difficulties of the past couple of years. At last, Tara cast a glance at the corner. Epona was slumped down with her head resting against the back of her chair and her eyes closed. The warrior couldn't restrain a smirk. "Guess it's getting late," she said calmly. "We've put in a long couple days, and I think it's time for bed."

"All right, then," Drea said cheerfully. "Rest well. Me and the boys will be around whenever you decide you want to join up."

Tara's dark eyes followed her old acquaintance as she headed back across the tavern. Then, rising to her feet, she moved over to where Epona was. The slave murmured and shifted as the larger woman lifted her up; green eyes opened a crack. "Tired?" Tara asked, her lips twitching with amusement. Epona nodded silently. "All right. Let's go, then." And she carried the girl up the stairs that led to their room.

Epona yawned deeply as Tara laid her down on the bed. "Hurts...," she mumbled, only half awake.

"Arm's still a bit sore, huh?" The warrior calmly took off her new armor, laying it out carefully in a corner. Her dark eyes rested on the bed as she stripped off her outer clothes. "You're probably fine. I'll take another look at it in the morning."

The slave didn't shrink away, but her skin shivered as Tara began to undress her. Her eyes, a deep jade in the room's dim light, peered up at her fearfully. "Please, it...it'll hurt, ma'am..."

"No, it won't. I'll be careful of it." The warrior continued stripping her down, her strong hands brisk and efficient. "I've told you already – obey me, and you've got nothing to worry about. I'm not going to damage you for no good reason." She removed the last of the slave's clothing, tossing it aside with vague annoyance. Then, with a long, satisfied yawn, Tara stretched herself out on the bed and pulled Epona close. The girl's lips quivered against hers. "Mmm, 's'good," Tara mumbled, cupping the back of Epona's neck in her hand.

"Ma'am," Epona whispered. Tara heard her breath catch in her throat as the warrior's hand slid down over her bare hip. "I'm so tired. Please..."

"Just shut it," the larger woman muttered. "Not in the mood t'hear whining." She kissed the slave again, relishing the taste of the ale on her lips. Tara smirked against the girl's mouth. It was going to be a good night.



Tara Ch. 02



Tara took particular care with her appearance. She shaved every hair from her boy, smeared on lashings of moisturizer, gave herself a manicure and pedicure and spent ages deciding what to wear.

She eventually chose a strapless, skin tight short black dress and so there would be no outlines, wore nothing underneath. Her breasts peeped tantalizingly over the top. As she passed she left a subtle whiff of her latest Versace perfume. Her face was carefully made up and every hair was in place. She was without doubt, the night's sex goddess.

In contrast I chose a little grey suit with pencil skirt and wore a bright yellow frilly blouse underneath. I had also decided on a lacy shelf bra and matching g-string with a black lacy suspender belt and black mesh stockings. With my high heeled black shoes, I looked the picture of business efficiency.

Ari was waiting for us when we arrived at the coffee shop and looked sufficiently impressed to suit us. He ordered drinks and we sat and chatted for a while before I decided it was time to go. Tara went ahead so he could admire the wiggle of her tight butt cheeks under that clinging dress.

Once in the room, we were surprised to see that he had ordered light snacks and a bottle of sparkling wine in an ice bucket. We were to get the full treatment tonight and would reciprocate in kind.

When I considered we had spent enough time on the idle chit-chat, I got up and led him to the bedroom. I undressed him and laid him down on the bed. Then I slowly removed my jacket and hung it carefully over a chair. Already his cock was rising.

Equally slowly I unbuttoned my blouse and it joined the jacket. I was now showing him my breasts perched precariously on their shelf. He gasped. To get him really revved up I leaned over and kissed him languidly. He tried to grab me but I sidestepped him and stood once again at the end of the bed.

Without haste, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I was in no hurry to remove my g-string, so turned round to give him the full view. I was having fun.

To make him wait even longer, Tara entered nibbling a peach and letting the juice run down her chin. It was one of her sexier moves. 

She turned to me so I could unzip her dress, and it fell easily on to the floor revealing her in all her nakedness except for her very high heels.

We were now ready.

She kissed Ari and pressed her breasts against him. Then she rubbed that peach over her breasts and his cock. He flinched and groaned. Good.

Very, very slowly she climbed on to the bed and crouched over him just high enough so he could not reach. She rubbed peach juice over her whole slit, threw it on the floor and then lowered herself on to his waiting mouth. I thought he would choke.

Meanwhile I took his by now enormous cock and rubbed it it between my hands and then over my breasts, before taking it into my mouth and starting on a grand blowjob. He was thrashing and groaning and I could feel his cock pulsing. After a few more sucks I mounted him backwards and slid it easily into my dilated slippery pussy. We both gasped with the pleasure of it.

Tara was rubbing her breasts and pulling on her nipples, and I could see her expression changing. She was building up to something big. She rubbed her clit with her thumb whenever Ari let is go to lick the rest of her slit and try to poke his tongue into her anus. She was giving little whimpers.

I was riding Ari for all I was worth and kept changing my position until I was satisfied I had the right angle to get him right up to my tonsils. Glory be, but he was huge. This was pleasure personified.

Ari moved Tara slightly so he could rub her anus with his hand and insert a finger. I thought she would hit the ceiling. She was breathing deeply and getting a dreamy look in her eyes. I knew she was not far from orgasm.

As I watched she tightened all her muscles and shrieked. Ari wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain, but continued to push into her.

I thumped down on him and without warning felt this gallon of hot juice spurting deep inside me. It sent me into a frenzy and I dug my nails into his sides as I experienced spasm after spasm of pleasure shake me. All three had come almost simultaneously. Tara and I were getting good.

When we eventually calmed down and got our breathing under control, we returned to the sitting room, all still naked, and enjoyed another glass of bubbly. It became a circus. I rubbed some ice over Ari's hanging cock, and he responded by rubbing some over my breasts and pushed a piece into my pussy. This was a completely new experience.

Not to be outdone, Tara rubbed a big piece over his butt and down over his anus. That got him going, and before we knew it, there was ice and cold water everywhere as we each tried to outdo the others. Our evenings didn't usually end like this.

It was hard for us to shower and dress, but the showering became farce as we all tried to get into the cubicle together. It looked as if the evening would start again as Ari was becoming aroused by soaping us both.

We looked at one another, but both shrugged. Should we stay or not? 



Tara Ch. 02



Chapter 02: Basement Dance

I got up Monday, got ready and went to work, and then it happened at about 10am. I got a text from Josh, "Hi, can we meet later today?" My heart was beating so fast I didn't know what to reply. I kept thinking I was crazy to do this. I could lose everything -- my house, my family, my friends, everything -- if I got caught.

After about 10 minutes of thinking I responded simply with, "Yes." Now my mind was racing! I tried to recall, where were my husband and son at that moment; when were they due home? While I was thinking my son called me and asked if he could go to the shore with my sister and her kids. I said, "Of course, have a great time." 

Josh then texted me and asked when he should arrive. I returned the text telling him, "working til 1, meet me at my house at 1:30." After I hit send, my heart started throbbing in anticipation of what might be. Then I texted Josh again and reminded him to park his car away from the house and come in the back door, it was unlocked.

The rest of my day at work was extremely long and very unproductive. At about 12:45 I couldn't take it anymore and decided that I had to leave. As I was driving home I couldn't help but notice the fire burning and the wetness developing between my legs. As I pulled into my development I noticed Josh's car parked a few streets over from mine. I pulled into my drive way, turned off my car and looked into my mirror and asked myself, "What are you doing, Tara?" I took a deep breath, grabbed my purse and walked to the front door. I unlocked the door walked in, locking it behind me. There was no sign of Josh, so I walked into the kitchen to fix myself a drink. As I was filling my glass at the counter, I felt those hands on my hips again, but this time I didn't jump; I just sighed. I asked him if he wanted a drink, and he declined. As I was taking a sip of my drink, Josh pushed my hair to the side so he could once again have access to my neck. This time I tilted my head to give him better access, lifted my arm and ran my fingers through his hair as he sent shivers running thru my body. " Josh, you do realize how wrong this is and how many people would be hurt if they ever found out about this."

Josh seemed completely unfazed by the ramifications of what we were doing. With that I took another sip of my Captain and Coke. Josh continued to kiss and nibble my neck as his hands explored my body, slowly running them up and down my side from the bottom of my skirt to the side of my breast. The shivers ran down my back and collected between my legs. My nipples were so hard they were clearly visible, even through my pushup bra. He whispered in my ear how great I smelled, sweet enough to take a bite out of. I told him, "go ahead." He leaned down, pushing the collar of my shirt away, and took a nice deep sensual bite out of the base of my neck. I almost died right there! That is the one thing you can do to me that will make me melt and lose all control. It's like he already knew that. I let out a deep moan as my body just completely relaxed, knowing I was his. 

With that, I needed him, I wanted him, so I grabbed his strong but soft hand and debated on where to take him. I didn't want to take him to my bed, the guilt might ruin me, and I didn't want to go to living room in case someone walked by and noticed, so I led him to the basement. I couldn't help but wiggle my ass more than normal as I descended the stairs.

As soon as we reached the bottom Josh turned me towards him and firmly kissed me. I responded by passionately kissing him back and stroking my hand through his blonde hair. As we acted like two love starved maniacs, I told Josh, "I want you!!" 

He smirked at me and said, "Oh do you? How much?" 

I jokingly slapped his shoulder and told him, "Well maybe not that much." He leaned over and bit my neck kind of hard. I started pounding my fists on his back and yelling, "No marks, no marks!" so he stopped. 

I led him to the sofa and told him to have a seat, and I walked over and slowly bent over to turn on the stereo. As I did, I looked over my shoulder, gave him a sexy smile, and wiggled my ass for him. His eyes were fixated on my ass and a smile grew across his face. 

Then a thought crossed my mind, "I know what Josh would enjoy." When I was younger before meeting my husband and getting married, I made extra money with a secret job as a stripper. It felt wonderful to reclaim these wild and free days with my new young companion, and the idea of giving him a taste of the aroused anticipation I had been feeling since our last encounter. So, I slowly stood up turned around, and told him to just stay there and enjoy. 

As the music came on, I started moving around shaking my hips, I felt young and wild and out of control again. I looked at him and slowly unbuttoned my blouse, taking my time and teasing him the whole time. I thought, "Wow, I really miss this and want to enjoy this again!" 

I could see the expression on his face; it was saying, "Wow, I never saw her in this way before." 

My blouse came off and I threw it onto the pool table, and I walked over and started shaking my skirt covered ass in his face as I slowly made my skirt ride up higher, to the point that he could see the bottom of my ass. I was getting so excited showing off for him that I was getting a natural high, dizzy with sexual excitement. Josh reached up and tried to pull me down onto his lap. I slapped his hands and said, "Don't touch, just look," just like I was in a club. I then continued my show by taking my bra off like a pro, and twirling it across the room onto the table with my blouse. 

I continued dancing, partially covering my breasts with my hands, because I am a little uncomfortable with my small breasts. However, when Josh said, "Let me see them," I shyly lower my hands, showing him my big dark areolas and hardened nipples. As I became more comfortable I continue my strip show for him. This time I bent over in front of him, shaking my ass in his face and told him, "Unzip me." He took his time unzipping my skirt and grabbed my ass a few times, until I stepped away and wiggled my hips to make my skirt fall to the floor. There I was in 2 inch heels and a navy blue thong, dancing for my new lover. I looked him in the eyes and asked, "Like what you see?" He nodded. I responded, "Good, now let me see something I want." I fixed my eyes on the bulge in his shorts. With that he kicked off his sneakers, and slid his shorts and boxers off in one swift move. And there it was, that amazing cock that made me feel like none other a couple days ago in my bathroom. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of it! I could feel the dampness building between my legs and knew I was his, but I didn't want him to know it. I wanted to keep some control. So I walked over between his legs, leaned over and forcefully kissed him, then grabbed his T-shirt and aggressively ripped it over his head and threw it across the room. I straddled his lap and started kissing him as he ran his hands over my body. I began slowly grinding my hips against his nice young stiff cock. 

I knew I wanted it bad and immediately, no foreplay needed. I sat up, reached down between my legs and grabbed his hardness firmly. I looked him right in the eyes as I guided his wonderful cock past my thong and to my pleasure place. I teased my self with a couple swipes up and down my slit, and then slowly lowered myself down on him, never breaking eye contact with him. I put my hands on his shoulders, arched my back as he put his hands on my hips, and slowly lowered myself all the way down onto that amazing shaft. Once I bottomed out he asked," Want me to use a condom, and how much time do we have?" 

I panted," No, and we safely have 30 minutes maybe a little more." With that I slowly started to rotate my hips adjusting myself to his size and enjoying the amazing burning feeling running inside my body. While I was gyrating on him, he leaned over and started sucking and licking my nipples and telling me how amazing I looked. I softly said, "Thank you, but no need to try to flatter me, you already have me. " 

He responded, "I am serious you are gorgeous." I blushed a bit, then leaned over, nibbled his ear, and whispered, "Shhhh, stop talking and let me fuck you." Once again I was shocked at my language, and I started sliding up and down his lovely pleasure stick. I love riding a hard cock; even during the boring sex sessions with my husband, I would try to get on top so I could get some pleasure. Then, just as we did in my bathroom, we found a natural rhythm and he kept hitting all the right spots over and over . 

We kept this rhythm for about 4 songs on the radio. I could tell he was close and so was I so I started really rocking my hips as I slammed myself onto his lap, causing him to keep hitting my cervix. This was a pleasure-and-pain feeling. Then, suddenly I ruptured into orgasm, calling out, "Jossssshhhhhhh!" and digging my nails into his chest and shoulder. As I climaxed, Josh firmly grabbed my hips and held me down on his lap and drove his cock past my cervix, unloading all of his hotness deep inside me. Then I kind of collapsed, resting my head on his shoulder. It was then I noticed my reflection in the glass of the picture behind the sofa. I had changed, I was no longer that boring house wife; I was born again into the wild woman I was before I settled down and got married. 

Josh and I just stayed together kissing softly until I turned and looked at the clock and said, "I don't want this to end but we can't afford getting caught." I lifted myself off of his now soft penis, walked across the room in my thong and heels, grabbed my blouse, and slid it on, buttoning only one button. By the time I walked back to Josh, he was already dressed. I leaned over, kissed him and thanked him. He reached up, grabbed my ass and tried to pull me back down, but I resisted and said, " No, we don't have time." Then I did something I can't believe. I stood up straight and slid my thong down my legs and over my heels and offered it to Josh, dangling it on my finger. He reached out and took it with a simple "thanks." 

I then guided him back up the stairs to the back door, where we kissed passionately until he reached down and started playing with my clit. I enjoyed the feeling but pushed him away and said, "STOP, you're killing me with how good that feels, but we don't have time." He looked like a lost puppy dog. I opened the door, gave him a quick kiss and said, "I will talk to you later." He turned and left and I watched until he disappeared out of sight. Then I closed the door. Feeling a little lost myself, I walked downstairs to collect my skirt and bra, and sat on the sofa where I had just had sex with Josh. I closed my eyes to embrace the feeling. As I was enjoying the thought I found my hand rubbing myself, and I couldn't stop. I sat there and masturbated until I bit my lip and had another orgasm and moaned, "Jossssshhhhh," again. I was completely satisfied and exhausted, so I just stayed there catching my breath. Slowly, I started to doze off, until I heard a car door and realized my son was home. I quickly got up, grabbed my bra and skirt and ran into the laundry room. I hastily got dressed and threw a small load of laundry in to cover my tracks. When I walked upstairs I saw my son Colton, smiled at him and asked how his day was, but I never really heard his answer. I walked upstairs with thoughts of Josh in my head. I went straight to my bathroom started a shower, got undressed , put both hands on the vanity, looked in the mirror, smiled and knew that I found happiness. I jumped in the shower leaned against the wall, closed my eyes and started dreaming and ...



Tara Ch. 03



Something wasn't right.

Tara's eyes snapped open. Even when she was sleeping in a warm bed at an inn, her warrior's senses were sharp. I heard something, she thought, listening intently. Her fingertips brushed lightly against the hilt of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow as she waited and watched. The sound came again, and this time she heard it properly. It was a sob – a soft, plaintive little sound, and it had come from the girl in her bed.

Epona was curled up against her, with her lean back pressed up against Tara's abdomen; one of the warrior's arms was thrown possessively around the girl's waist. As Tara watched, she saw the slave bury her face into the pillow. The slim body quivered a few times. Another tiny, choked sob drifted up from the depths of the cushion.

Bugger. Wonder if her arm's bothering her? Tara was vaguely annoyed at having been awakened in the dead of night. She was about to say something, but something held her back. She paused and waited. After a minute or two, Epona's body shook again. A few more little sobs emerged, and then a name, spoken softly and tenderly, with infinite pain. "Marcella," the slave whispered. "Marcella..."

The warrior's brow creased. Huh. It's not the brand that's paining her, then. She thought she remembered Epona mentioning that some family member or other had been beheaded in front of her. Yes, that'll be it. Marcella was probably her sister's name.

Tara suddenly felt unaccountably awkward. She frowned a bit, trying to make sense of the feeling. If this were Clytie, I'd have just told her to shut up. I'd probably have yelled at her for waking me up, too. Her lips tightened. Maybe it's just not necessary to be that harsh with this one. Epona's never shown any sign of defiance...yes, that's what it is. I just don't see a need to be severe with her. Without speaking, Tara slipped her other arm around Epona's body.

The slave stiffened in her arms, twisting her head around to look at her. Tara could see the moisture on Epona's cheeks in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, ma'am," the girl whispered contritely. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Quietly, Tara turned the girl's body in her arms until they lay face-to-face. "I'll forgive you this time," she said calmly. "Does your brand still hurt?"

Epona's eyes lowered. "A...a little," she admitted.

Tara's expression didn't change. "Homesick?"

The slave's enormous eyes lifted to meet her owner's again. Tara saw her throat move as she swallowed. "I suppose so," she murmured. "I miss my...sister." Epona looked frightened as soon as she'd said it, as if she expected to be punished for it.

Without a word, Tara leaned forward to kiss the slave's mouth. She moved slowly, dropping soft kisses up Epona's jawline to her ear. Then she stopped and lay still. "Homesickness wears off," she said gruffly. "Give it time." The smaller girl nodded and buried her forehead into Tara's shoulder. A plaintive little sob or two shook her. Tara's awkward feeling grew; she scowled, but said nothing. After a while, the slave's slight form relaxed. The warrior looked at her – Epona was asleep again.

Thank the gods. With a wide yawn, Tara rested her head back down on her pillow and closed her eyes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sunlight was already streaming in the window, but Tara had no intention of getting up. The aches and pains left by long days of fighting and sleeping on the bare ground were beginning to loosen up; she felt warm and comfortable. She smiled up at the ceiling and relished the feeling of soft, clean sheets against her skin. Then, too, there was the gentle warmth of her slave's body cuddled up at her side.

Tara peered down at Epona with idle interest. The curly head was nestled against the warrior's muscular shoulder; the girl's slim form was curved close to hers. Epona tended to snuggle in her sleep, like a puppy. Tara studied her in silence. In the course of her travels over the years, she'd been all over these eastern kingdoms – even the great empire of Romus, the most powerful of them all. She'd seen statues there of famous nobles and queens and emperors. Tara thought that her little slave girl, with her well-formed features and her mop of dark hair, rather resembled some of those busts. Hm, hm. I bet you're not pure Argonian, little mouse – not with skin as pale as yours. There'll be some high-ranking Romusi in your background. Tara smiled a bit and moved a stray curl from the girl's cheek.

The movement disturbed the tranquility of Epona's face. She murmured, scowling a little, and buried her forehead into Tara's shoulder. The warrior smirked. Leaning down, she brushed her lips lightly over the ear that peeked out from amongst the dark curls, and nipped along its delicate rim. "Good morning," she murmured, chuckling as she heard a halfhearted growl emerge from the hidden throat. "Sleep well?"

"Yes'm." Epona turned her head to peer up at Tara with one sleepy eye. "Morning already?"

"Mmm-hmm." Tara idly wound one of the black locks around her finger. "I'm not in any great hurry to go anywhere, though." The slave girl sighed and closed her eyes again. "I think we should just spend the day here," Tara said lazily. "I could use the rest, and I'm sure we could find some way to spend the time." Her hand snaked under the covers and slid down to rest in the hollow just above Epona's hipbone. "What do you think?"

The dark head dropped demurely. "If you like, ma'am."

Tara smirked. That's what I like to hear. She idly tugged on another of Epona's dark curls. "So tell me, beag luch. I'm curious. Who was the Romusi – your mother, or your father?"

Epona glanced up at her. "My mother was Romusi," she said simply. "Political alliance." Then she frowned a little. "What does beag luch mean, please?"

The warrior paused. The words had simply slipped out – she hadn't actually meant to say them out loud. She felt faintly embarrassed. "Oh. That." Tara scratched her nose. "It's in my native tongue. It means little mouse," she said.

A small, sad smile flitted briefly over Epona's face. Even that tiny glimpse intrigued Tara; she hadn't yet seen the slave smile. It had softened the sculpted face and warmed the moss-green of her eyes. The smaller girl reached up to brush a fingertip against a lock of her owner's fiery red hair. "You're not Argonian at all, right, ma'am? You're from the west."

"Gaelis," Tara confirmed. "But it's not home, not anymore. I've not seen the place in more than a decade, now."

"That's too bad," Epona said softly. Her small fingers continued their absentminded toying with Tara's hair. "How come you never go back? Don't you miss it?"

"What's to miss?" Tara asked coldly. Something welled up in her, then – something like recklessness. She gave an icy smile and brushed the backs of her knuckles gently against Epona's cheek. "I'll tell you a story, beag luch. It happened in my country. There was a little girl born there to a no-good whore, the town drunk. Every morning the whore would throw her daughter out into the street and lock up the house, and then go to the pub to find men to buy her whiskey. And every night, the little girl would go back to her house to see if her mother would come home. Sometimes her mother didn't, so the little girl would sleep in the street. Sometimes her mother did – and when she did, she was usually drunk, and she would beat the little girl black and blue."

The warrior paused in her story and sat up, fumbling under the bed for her pack. When she found it, she pulled out a pipe and a tobacco pouch. Epona watched silently as Tara filled the pipe, lit it, and breathed out a cloud of fragrant smoke. "That little girl learned how to steal, and how to fight," Tara went on. "And as she grew up, she found out that she was very good at fighting. She was stronger and faster than people who were older and bigger than she was. She fought a lot – and sometimes she lost, but most of the time she won." The warrior took another draw from her pipe. "One day, when the girl was fifteen, she won a fight against a man who was trying to take away the money she'd stolen that day. Afterwards, it suddenly occurred to her that the man she'd just beaten up was bigger than her mother was."

Epona's eyes widened. She stared up at Tara, but still said nothing. The red-haired warrior smirked. "So the girl went home. It was locked, of course; so she kicked the door in, and went inside and waited for her mother to come back." Tara paused, turning her dark eyes to the window. "Her mother came home a little after midnight, full of whiskey," she said quietly. "She hit the girl – so the girl beat her to a bloody pulp, and then she left. She left her there on the floor, beag luch. Her own mother. She didn't even know if she was dead or alive, but she never looked back." She took a deep breath of smoke and blew it out slowly. Her brown eyes moved down to meet Epona's again. "What kind of a monster do you suppose she became when she grew up?"

There was silence for a moment. Then Epona laid her head back against Tara's body; her slim hand rested gently on the warrior's belly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Tara flinched. The wave of recklessness had passed as suddenly as it had come. She shoved the slave away from her with a movement that was almost violent. "Don't be a fool," she growled. "It was just a damn story." Tara turned to glower out the window again. "Go downstairs and bring me up a breakfast tray," she ordered. "And don't dawdle about it, either!" She heard the rustle of cloth as Epona dressed, and then the soft sound of the door opening and closing. With a burst of temper, Tara turned and flung her pipe after her; it bounced off the door and clattered against the floorboards.

Some of the tension had passed out of Tara's muscles by the time Epona returned, staggering under the weight of a tray that contained a large platter of eggs, sausage and bread, an empty mug, and a steaming teapot. The slave girl managed to place it on the bedside table without dropping anything. Without a word, Epona poured Tara's tea, and then sat down on the edge of the bed. The warrior watched silently as the slave first took a sip, and then handed her the cup.

Tara took it and drank a few mouthfuls. Then she looked at Epona; the smaller girl was watching her timidly. Tara felt a rush of irritation. My own damn fault, the warrior thought ruefully. Letting my guard down like that...what was I thinking? "We won't speak of that story again," Tara said coldly. "Is that understood?"

"I understand, ma'am," the slave softly agreed.

"Good." The warrior gestured. "Strip, and get back in this bed." Without a word, Epona obeyed. Tara put her arm around the slim waist and pulled her up until she was almost sitting in her lap. She felt better; she patted Epona's belly. "Go ahead and have a sausage if you like," she said, and her tone was almost kind. "You're probably hungry, too." The slave hesitated before taking one. Tara relaxed, resting her head against the headboard behind her, and nibbled at her breakfast. Once again, she was looking forward to the long and lazy day ahead.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It had been a very comfortable day, Tara thought contentedly, letting a yawn expand her ribs. She was sitting propped up against some pillows and the headboard, dressed only in her short leather breeches. Epona was lying on top of her, between her knees, with her dark head resting against her chest. Her eyes were closed; she seemed to be dozing. Tara smirked. Her fingers drifted up to toy with a few stray curls until the moss-green eyes opened again. "Comfy?" the warrior asked mildly.

"Yes, ma'am," Epona murmured. 

"Need more salve on that burn?" Tara asked.

Epona shook her head. "It's good. It stings a bit, but it's all right." There was silence for a while. Tara felt small fingers trail gently up and down her side. "Are you going to go with that woman, ma'am?"

"Maybe," the warrior said lazily. "Drea and I go way back. She's the one who gave me my first Argonian sword." She reached over to the bedside table for her pipe. The room was already hazy with fragrant smoke, Tara noted. She blew out another cloud of it with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "You know, I was about your age during our heyday together," she said, grinning at the recollection. "We were both insane. The messes we got into together! Heh."

Curious eyes flicked up to Tara's. "Like what?"

Tara raised a brow, and then roughly ruffled Epona's hair. "You want to hear war stories, is that it? Do I look like a bard to you?" The slave winced and shrank away visibly. Tara chuckled. "I'm not much of a storyteller. Drea and I, though – we were crazy. I remember one time we sneaked away from camp to try to pull a raid by ourselves. We hit what we thought was a little merchant caravan. Turned out it was some nobleman's retinue, guarded by at least a dozen soldiers! We only just got away with our hides intact. I got a souvenir." Tara tapped a ragged scar that ran over the top of her right shoulder. "One of them pegged me with a crossbow. Went right under my shoulder plate. It was a good thing I wore a mail shirt underneath, or I'd have been dead right there."

Epona ran the tips of her fingers over the scar. Her eyes were round with amazement. "You're very brave," she said softly.

"That wasn't courage. That was stupidity." Tara grinned nevertheless. "I guess I haven't really changed all that much since then. I'm a bit smarter in the kinds of risks I take, but...there's just something about battle, somehow. I just suddenly forget all my aches and pains, and all the horrors of war, and I start laughing, and...ah." She breathed a deep sigh. "I just feel like a force of nature, or a goddess. It's as if the Morrigan really did take my blood."

The slave looked up in puzzlement. "Who took your what?"

"The Morrigan," Tara repeated calmly. "She's the goddess of war in Gaelis." She took another breath of smoke. "I was always a fighter, little mouse. I joined the army when I was fifteen years old, but I got kicked out three months later for being a discipline problem. That's when I decided to come to Argonia. I'd heard a fighter with a sword could find easy work here." Tara set her pipe down carefully. "Before I left, though, I figured I could use all the help I could get. There's this mountain near the town where I grew up, and on top of it is a ring of stones. There's some priestesses up there. The place is dedicated to the Morrigan."

"A temple." Epona's delicate fingers were still tracing the outline of the scar on the warrior's shoulder. Tara decided it was an agreeable sensation.

"No. Temples are an Argonian thing, or Romusi. Gaels are different." Tara noted the curve of Epona's jaw. She lazily drew her thumb along it, enjoying the smooth texture of her skin. "We have sacred trees, stones, hills – things like that."

"Oh." A faint blush colored the slave's cheek at the intensity of Tara's gaze. She looked down, shivering as the warrior's hand trailed down the side of her neck and along the sharp line of her collarbone.

"Anyway, I went up there and told them I wanted to pledge my life and my sword to the Morrigan," Tara murmured. "They did this big long ritual with fire and water and things, and then they cut my hand and let it bleed over a sacred stone." She displayed a paper-thin scar across the palm of her right hand. Small fingers curiously investigated it. "They told me that I already carried the Morrigan's birthright, and now I truly belonged to her. I wound up staying there for a couple of days. Got my tattoo from one of the priestesses."

Epona traced the blue mark on the side of Tara's neck. "It's a bird."

"A raven," the warrior confirmed. "Sacred bird of the goddess. They eat the bodies after a battle's over, you know." Epona shuddered deeply, and Tara smirked. Little frightened mouse. "So that's what I mean about the blood."

The slave chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We have warlords here in Argonia," she said softly. "They're disciples of Ares. They say he can possess them in battle, and that's why they're so strong and deadly." Her slender hands brushed the muscles that rippled like steel ropes across Tara's arm. "Are you like that?"

"Hm. Maybe." Tara shrugged, watching the slave's hands with idle enjoyment. "I don't exactly worship the Morrigan or anything. I don't pray to her. But every time I fight, I'm kind of fulfilling my vows to her. And I don't really know what being possessed feels like, so who knows? Maybe she does possess me in battle." She leaned back as Epona's fingers began to explore the hard lines of her abs. "You seem to be losing some of your shyness," she remarked.

Epona stopped abruptly and blushed to the roots of her hair. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she said humbly. "Please don't be angry! I didn't mean..."

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Tara shot her a rakish grin. The slave blushed harder, and buried her face into the pillow. The warrior chuckled and drew the quilt up to cover more of Epona's bare skin.

After a moment, the slave girl seemed to recover some of her lost composure. She peeped out of the pillow. "What...please, ma'am, what will you do with me if you do go with those people?"

"Bring you along, of course," Tara said lightly. "You'd be one of the camp followers. We have people to cook and things, and bring us supplies on the battlefield. That kind of thing. And I'm certainly not the only mercenary ever to have a slave." She rubbed Epona's naked back idly. "So tell me something," she said. "You say you were a noble's daughter, but you seem to be adjusting to being my slave pretty easily. Why is that?"

The girl looked at her out of the corner of her eye. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I guess it's not all that different from what I would have been doing, anyway," Epona said finally. Her voice was very quiet. "I'd have been married off to some man I'd never met, and I'd be cooking and cleaning for him. I'd have had to sleep with him whether I wanted to or not. It isn't so very different with you, ma'am...except that you're a woman, of course. And that my family's dead."

Tara nodded thoughtfully. "That's probably true." She slid her palm down from Epona's shoulders to the small of her back. I'd like to take her again, she thought, glancing at the window. The sun was setting; Tara sighed. No. No time now. It'll have to wait. "I think it's about time for supper," she said out loud. "Put your clothes on – we're going downstairs to eat. I have to talk to Drea, anyway." Epona bowed her head and did as she was told. Tara dressed herself in full armor. She strapped her sword to her side, and then paused to eye her shield. Nah – no need for it. She turned to the door, glancing toward the boyish figure of her slave. "Come," she said shortly, and headed down the stairs.

It wasn't hard to spot the mercenaries; their party took up nearly a third of the inn's pub. Tara calmly made her way to an empty table on the opposite side of the tavern, and then flagged down a barmaid. "Supper and ale for two," she said. Epona quietly slipped into an empty seat. Tara grinned and pulled up a chair for herself.

As Tara had expected, there was soon movement over at the mercenaries' tables. Drea and their supper arrived at the same time. The dark-skinned warrior straddled a chair in a businesslike manner, folding her arms over the back of it. "Hey, Terror. Enjoying your stay so far?"

"Fair," Tara said, coolly meeting Drea's gaze for a moment. Then she took a leisurely bite of the bread and cheese the barmaid had brought her. "Soft bed, decent food, cold ale. Not bad for a change every now and then."

"I know the feeling." The smaller warrior shifted in her seat, seemingly waiting for something. Tara merely gave her a mild look and resumed eating her supper. Drea finally sighed impatiently. "Well? Have you given any thought to coming with us?"




Tara Ch. 03



As I stood in the shower dreaming of Josh, I ran my hands over my body trying to recapture the feeling of Josh touching me, to no avail. 

Just then I heard my husband's voice asking, "How was your day?" That broke my trance and brought me back to reality. Disappointed, I finished my shower, and went about my daily routine of making dinner, cleaning up, and killing time sitting with hubby watching TV until it was time to go to bed.

After my husband's favorite show was over, he went up to the bedroom and I cleaned up a few things turned out the lights and headed upstairs to join him. 

Once upstairs I went through my nightly routine in the bathroom and crawled into bed next to hubby. I gave him a kiss good night, rolled over, turned off the light and rested my head to the soft pillow. My husband had other intentions. He snuggled up behind me and started kissing my neck, I knew exactly what he was after, and all I could think about was "What should I do?" 

"Do I deny him and risk him questioning, or do I let him have me and risk him finding me already filled up and a little looser than normal?" 

I reluctantly rolled over, hiding my exasperations as I watched him prime himself for what he thinks will be another spectacular performance on his part. I could barely keep my eyes from rolling all the way back as he drew out the condom from its usual place in the night stand. 

Not even assertive enough to do it himself, I peeled off my thong and spread for him as he held the baggy condom against his crotch and positioned himself between my legs.

He slipped in with the predictable missionary and I thanked god he uses lubricated condoms, because I definitely was not excited enough for him to enter me otherwise. My husband started pumping himself in and out, as I closed my eyes and tried to fantasize that it was Josh. It was useless, it wasn't even remotely close. My husband was passionless; no foreplay, no size, it was a matter of going through the motions for me. 

So I just laid there and did my wifely duty knowing that it would soon be over. My husband increased his pace, I knew he was close to climaxing, so I did what I have done quite often to make my husband feel like a stud: I faked an orgasm. It worked liked a charm and soon his red face tensed up and I barely felt that familiar soft, weak throbbing inside.

He collapsed on top of me giving me a quick peck, " I love you; thank you." he whispered softly as he tried to catch his breath. He then lifted himself off of me and went to the bathroom to clean up, I rolled over and dozed off.

As the morning sun hit my face, I rolled awake stretching and yawned. My husband hearing that I was awake came over gave me a kiss on the cheek before headed out for work. I laid in bed pondering my schedule for the day. Hearing my son hurrying around the house before the front door slammed shut, thinking to myself that he was probably running late for work at the golf course. 

The only thing that was on my mind was, where and when was I going to see Josh again? There was no way I was going to be satisfied with the sex I was going to continue getting from my husband. I had made up my mind already, this affair I was having with Josh was going to continue, no matter what!

Once at work, I couldn't resist, so I sent a text to Josh, just something simple, "Hey", he quickly responded "Hey good looking. how is your day?" Excited to be chatting with my young lover I couldn't help but my smile to myself as I responded, "Better now that I am talking to you." 

We continued texting and flirting back and forth for a while until I got to the point where I figured if he wasn't going to ask, I would. 

"I need you, when can I have you again?" 

"Need you too, but have class and work." I was highly disappointed but I understood. Over the next week, Josh and I texted and talked, but just couldn't get our schedules to work out.

Saturday soon rolled around, and I stopped by the mall to pick up a gift while running errands. I passed a store I use to love shopping at, but haven't been able to enjoy in years: Victoria's Secret. 

Normally, my underwear are typically inexpensive and bland. So I decided to indulge myself, and take a look around, I caught myself wondering what Josh would enjoy me in. After browsing around the store for a bit, the salesgirl, probably in her early 20's, asked if she could help. 

Excited, I quickly responded, "I want to change my look, I want to feel sexy and young again." The young girl asked me if I was trying to spice things up with my husband, and without hesitation, as I started to giggle, "No, for my lover!" 

She laughed along, not knowing if I was serious or kidding. She started showing me things that most women my age would wear, so I turned to her and asked, "What would your boyfriend want to see you in?" At that point she took my hand and led me to the other side of the store where the lacey, sexy lingerie were. After picking me out some things she led me back to the dressing room, where I took my top off and she measured me for my sexy new matching bra and thong sets. I bought several satin lacey thongs in black, red, lime green, fuchsia, and lite pink. I also picked up one sexy little teddy that is purple and very sheer. After spending over $300, I left with a big smile on my face, excited and looking forward to the time I could model my new lingerie for my young stud. 

Days went by where Josh and I would talk and text, but could never get together. Late one night I was online and an IM popped up. It was Josh; I didn't even know he knew my screen name. It started out as friendly chit chat until he asked where my husband was, to which I responded, "in bed asleep." Let me explain that my office is off our bedroom separated only by an arched doorway. As soon as he asked the question, I felt a tingle run through my body, it had been over a week since I had seen Josh and I need him badly. 

Josh started talking about how much he enjoyed our times together and continued by telling me some things he would love to do with me. Memories of our last tryst came flooding back, and my body responded intuitively] I could feel the dampness building in my thong, as I mentioned to Josh that I had bought something for him. He begged me to tell him. Finally, I gave in, telling him that I made a trip to Victoria's Secret. 

"Can I see?" I could almost picture him perking up on the other side of the screen as he wrote back.

"Sure, the next time I see you." I teased but I could tell that Josh was a little impatient.

"What about now?" He begged. 

"Sure, with my husband sleeping 15 feet away." I could barely keep my giggling in control. With that, a window popped open on my computer and asked me to accept. Not knowing what it was, I clicked Okay, and the window flashed, greeting me with Josh's warm smile. I turned on my laptop's camera, this was all new to me, but I could see Josh and hear his voice, I quickly turned the volume down so that my husband would not hear. I was so nervous being this was my first time and hubby so close.

Josh smiled at me and asked to see what I had bought, so I grabbed one of the thongs from the Victoria Secret's bag and held it up so he could see, I could head him laughing. I was surprised and confused, and with a hearty chuckle, I confronted, "What's so funny?"  

"I wanted to see them on you - model them for me."

At first I hesitated and said no, but I checked on my husband and thought, what the hell? There I was modeling one of my tiny new thong and bra sets for my lover. I was so turned on that I could see a tiny wet spot forming on the front of my lace thong. 

I watched as Josh stood up, pushing his shorts down revealing his hard, filling cock that I've been missing so much. I was shocked as he stood there; stroking himself as I modeled the lingerie for him, but it got me even hotter and made me miss him even more. I responded by sitting back down in my chair, and opened my legs as I watched Josh run his hands over that thick, meaty shaft before my married eyes.  

I decided to join him, running my hand down my chest, under my new thong and started circling my already swollen clit with my slender fingers. It did not take long before I had a lip biting orgasm and Josh erupted all over his bedroom floor. I could not believe I had just had cyber-sex with Josh. As he finished I thanked him, but I had to tell him that I needed the real thing. He told me that he had to leave for class at 8:00 the next morning, and with that I blew him a kiss good night and turned off my laptop.

I could barely sleep after that and I knew what I wanted and was willing to take a chance to get it. 

I got up early with my husband and worked out, showered and dressed for work earlier than normal. My husband curiously asked what was up, and I told him that I had to go into work a little earlier than normal. He predictably pecked me on the cheek, wished me a good day and headed off work. I don't think he even got the front door shut all the way before I was upstairs to change.

I opened my drawer and pondered on what new thong and bra set to wear. It didn't take me long to decide on the sexy new lime green set that I had picked up days earlier. After putting it on I stared at myself in my full length mirror; and for the first time, in a very long time, I thought to myself, "Damn, you look sexy!" I slid myself into a tighter fitting black skirt, just above the knee, and a lime green silk blouse. Slipped on some 2 inch black heels and strutted myself down the steps, right by my son, grabbed a cup of coffee, and headed out the door.

I parked my car around the corner from Josh's house because his mom's car was still in the driveway. So I patiently waited out of view, until I saw Krista get in her car and drive off for work. I took a deep breath, looked in the mirror and told myself that I was going to do this. I liked the woman I saw. 

I walked briskly down the sidewalk towards, texting Josh, "What you doing?" He quickly responded, "Getting ready for school." 

"Open the front door." 

The few moments that passed by seemed like an eternity before my young lover opened the door with a shocked look on his face; I grinned at him and walked quickly past him. 

Josh followed behind me asking what I was doing there and reminding me that he had to leave for class in twenty minutes. Entering his dining room, I place both hands on the dining room table and looked over my shoulder at Josh, "If you only have 20 minutes, you shouldn't waste any time." 

It didn't take him long to close the gap and run his hands up the outside of my legs, slowly pushing my skirt up, till my new lime green thong was exposed.

I could hear Josh's voice behind me, his tone deep, "That is the sexiest thing I have ever seen!" A slutty grin crept over my lips.

I could hear the zipper on his jeans slide down just before his belt and jeans hit the floor. I stayed facing forward anticipating the pleasure I was about to experience. I didn't have to wait long as I felt his massive head run up and down the crack of my ass. I begged him "PLEASE!"  

He teased me, "Want something?" 

"Yes" I pleaded.

I felt his finger slide under my thong and slowly run down my ass stretching it to the side. I braced for the only cock I wanted, and Josh didn't disappoint as he slowly slid himself inside me. As he slowly pleasured me with his hardness, I could feel his hand pulling my blouse out of my skirt. I pushed myself up a little bit, quickly unbuttoning my blouse so that my young lover could admire the matching bra I picked out for him. 

I panted to Josh that he only had ten minutes, that he should hurry up and without hesitation. I could feel his throbbing young cock begin to pump me faster. Josh was now thrusting deep inside me as I moaned and screamed his name, my orgasm was building. "Josh was telling me how much he enjoyed pleasuring me and was he ever.

Then it happened simultaneously, we both began to climax together, I could feel his thick cum squirt inside of me. I collapsed onto the table as Josh kissed the back of my neck. That was just what I needed.

"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked between pants, catching my breath. 

"Not really." My young lover looked at me. I knew what that meant, he wasn't seriously dating anyone, but he was definitely seeing someone else. As I felt his softened cock slide out of me I pushed myself up and started to dress, thinking of how to respond to him. His cum soaked my thong. As Josh dressed and cleaned himself up, I went to him with an offer: he could have me whenever he wanted, if he didn't see anyone else.

I wanted him to myself. I wanted to be his girlfriend. 

Then Josh surprised me, he looked me in the eye, smiled and said, "I would love to have you as my girlfriend, but if you ask me to not have sex with others, I don't want you to have sex with others either." 

I couldn't believe what he just asked me. I snapped, "You are the only person I have had an affair with!" He quickly put a finger to my lips to silence me, "I mean your husband too." 

Without hesitation, I responded to my lover, "I promise, that you will be the only man that fucks me." 

I can't believe I just promised my body to a twenty year old, I knew I would keep it. 

With that he walked me to the door, kissed me good-bye and I left for work knowing that I no longer belonged to my husband, but to Josh. 



Tara Ch. 03



Tara took a long sip of ale. "I've thought a bit." She glanced over at Epona, who was listening in silence. "You can eat, you know." The slave looked a bit startled; she quickly began to nibble on her supper. Tara hid a smile.

"And...?" Drea prompted.

"And I'd like to know exactly what the plan is. You know – my position, what you'd expect of me – that sort of thing." The redhead rested her chin on her hand.

Drea nodded. "Oh. Right. Of course." She scratched her nose awkwardly. "Well, it's like this. See, I'm sort of leading this outfit, so I can bring you in if I like, but...well, you being who you are, I can't just bring you in as muscle. Waste of your potential, and all. I'd more or less be bringing you on with an eye toward making you my second. Not right away, of course, but you'd be in some kind of leadership role."

"I thought as much." Tara ate a few more placid mouthfuls. "So I'll have to do the standard beat-and-intimidate thing right off the bat, to get their respect. And you'll want my help with organizing and strategy and whatnot, right?"

"That's right," Drea said.

"I see." The larger woman sat back in her chair until it creaked under the strain. She took a long, deliberate drink from her mug before catching Drea's eyes with her own. "If that's the case, I want more than a twelfth of the take. I want a tenth, plus my choice of any weapons, armor or horses we capture."

Drea hesitated for a moment. "Done," she said flatly. "You're worth it."

Tara grinned and stuck out her hand. "Then you've got yourself a redheaded second-in-command."

"Wonderful!" Drea clasped her forearm and returned the grin. "I'll go and warn the boys. Welcome to the team, you old warhorse. I'm looking forward to riding with you again."

Tara was well pleased. She shot her slave girl a smirk as Drea headed back across the tavern. "This'll be fun," she said. "I haven't had a good rough-and-tumble, teach-'em-who's-boss role in years." Epona nodded wordlessly. Her moss-green eyes were wide and anxious. "Oh, relax," Tara said with a grin. "I can take on that bunch, no problems." With that, she returned her attention to her supper. The slave quietly followed suit.

It really had been a long time since she had led a group of fighters. Tara had to admit that she really was looking forward to it. She sipped her ale and let herself dream of the days when she had traveled with Drea. Her lips curved upward. Yes, this'll be good. I think I'm actually looking forward to it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was a beautiful day for riding, Tara thought cheerfully, her eyes sweeping the road ahead. She was in a very good mood, despite the fact that she was once again traveling with a group instead of by herself. There are compensations, she thought. The money will be good. And I suppose it's nice to be traveling with Drea again. She glanced ahead at the armored back of the woman in question. Heh, listen to me. I'm getting all sentimental in my old age.

The lean body in her arms shifted back against her. Tara looked down with an indulgent smile. She'd bought a decent cloak and a pair of durable boots for Epona, and she thought the girl wore them well. Tara leaned her head down to nibble lightly on the side of her slave's neck. "Nervous?" she purred.

"Yes, ma'am," Epona said softly. "This...isn't this really dangerous? I mean, all these..." She glanced at a scruffy-looking man riding to their right, and shuddered.

Tara grinned. "They aren't nearly as dangerous as your owner, you know," she said. "You'll be safe enough as long as you keep me happy." She slid upward to capture an earlobe between her lips and flick it with her tongue. "But you shouldn't find that too difficult. I've been very pleased with you so far." Epona's body quivered under her touch.

"Tara." The warrior looked up to see Drea looking at her. "C'mon up here a minute." Tara dug her heels into her horse's flanks and moved forward until their mounts were plodding alongside each other. "Listen," Drea said calmly, "I've told the boys that you're coming along to lend some extra muscle, but I think a few of them have guessed at what we've got in mind. They might give you a bit of trouble."

The redhead nodded coolly. "Well, we expected that. It's nothing I can't handle." She eyed Drea. "How much leeway have I got?"

"As much as you need," the dark-skinned woman shrugged. "Just try to leave enough of us alive and unharmed so we can still take down that caravan, all right?"

"I'll see what I can do," Tara chuckled. She felt Epona shiver and shrink down in her arms.

Drea's brown eyes moved down to the slave. "So what's the deal with her, anyway? You buy her somewhere?"

"Nah. She was part of my price to help some two-bit soldier take a town. The guy thinks he's a warlord." Tara's contemptuous smirk left no doubt as to her opinion on that score. "I picked her out myself."

"Good choice," Drea commented. Her dark eyes rested appreciatively on Epona. "Pretty little thing." Tara's jaw tightened perceptibly; the smaller warrior gave a soft huff of laughter. "Oh, come on. I can't notice your slave's a cutie? You know me. Women and wine, remember?"

Tara nodded grimly. Her face had gone noticeably cold. "As long as the women and wine are yours, I've got no problem with that."

Drea's dark eyes sparkled with laughter. "Aw, you're not sharing your candy?" She thrust out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "Not even a little nibble, Terror? Just a little bite?" The larger woman glared at her stonily, and Drea chuckled. "All right, all right. Hackles down, tiger. I wouldn't touch her without your permission, I'm just teasing you. Think I'm tired of living?"

"Maybe." Tara's tone was cool, but her expression softened a bit. There might even have been a faint twinkle in her eyes. "If you ever are, I can help you out with that."

"Don't I know it?" The dark-skinned woman laughed easily. "I'm pretty sure you could snap me in half with your bare hands." She glanced back at the mercenaries riding behind her. "Just try to keep that under your helm, though, hey? I can do without being twitted about it."

"I'll think about it." The redhead returned her attention to the road, with a barely-noticeable twitch at the corners of her lips. "So how'd you wind up as the leader of this group, anyway? When I left, you were still riding around after Vasilus. Did he decide to give up the war game, or did you just strike out on your own?"

Drea rubbed her horse's pommel absently. "Bit of both. I guess you didn't hear. Vasilus is dead." Tara raised a brow, and Drea nodded. "It's true. About six months after you left, we were attacking this little settlement west of here, and he took an arrow between the plates of his armor. Pierced his lungs – he bled out on the battlefield." Tara felt Epona shrink against her. "A lot of the boys decided to leave after that. I managed to claw my way into leading the rest of 'em, and here we are."

"Huh." Tara shifted her shoulders a bit, settling her shield more firmly on her back. "Well, he was pushing forty-five. That's getting up there, for a warlord."

The smaller warrior grimaced. "Aye. Isn't that the truth?" She glanced down at her own hands. "Not much chance of getting old in our business. Guts and glory, gold and grit, and fall in battle. And if you're lucky, some bard might make up a song about it."

This made Tara laugh. "Well, I've already reached the pinnacle of my career, in that case," she said. "I swear I don't know why the bards always pick on me to sing about lately. You'd think I was the only person riding around Argonia raiding villages, to hear them talk." She cast Drea a sidelong glance. "Maybe it's the red hair."

"That, and the fact that you're bloody ruthless." Drea grinned. "I'm just glad you're on my team, Terror. I'd hate to wind up on the wrong end of that blade of yours." The larger woman favored her with a cool smile. "You still toss boulders around every morning?"

"Yes," Tara said calmly. "And if you were smart, you would, too. That's how I build strength. Plain sword drills don't do that." She displayed one powerful arm, flexing to show the cords of knotted muscle. "And I run, of course. But you know that – you used to come with me."

The dark-skinned woman shook her head with a rueful smile. "Trail after you and puff into camp half an hour after you did, you mean," she said. "We both know you've got more than just muscle. You've heard what they're saying about you, haven't you?" Brown eyes glinted curiously. "You know, about Ares being your dearest daddy."

Tara snorted. "Ridiculous. I'm not even Argonian." She glanced at Drea and raised her brows slightly. "I hope you're not going to start some kind of bardic hero-worship thing with me, are you?"

"Nah. I know better. I've seen you drunk." Drea made a sound suspiciously like a giggle. "I can't speak for anyone else, though."

This brought a wicked smile to Tara's face. "The others can worship me all they like," she said. "Might even be safer for them if they do." She patted the thigh of the young woman riding before her. "Right, Epona?" The slave girl made a soft sound of agreement. Tara slipped her hand underneath the girl's tunic to rest in its favorite spot on the flat belly. She felt Epona lean back against her, and smirked.

The group rode all day long, with only a brief stop to eat and water the horses at around noon. They finally stopped about an hour before sunset. The mercenaries dispersed and began to set up camp with great efficiency. Tara sent Epona to help the camp followers while she and Drea set up the tent in which they would be sleeping. Even though it had been three years since Tara had done this sort of work, her hands still remembered their old skill. By the time darkness fell, the camp was finished, and the camp followers were preparing supper over a roaring fire at the center of it.

Tara sat down heavily on a log near the fire. Her dark eyes soon found the slender form of her slave. Epona was stirring a steaming pot and chatting shyly with an older woman to her left. From how the other camp followers were acting, Tara guessed that Epona was fitting in quite well. She nodded her approval as she fumbled at her side for her pipe. Good girl, little mouse. The pungent smell of tobacco soon joined that of the cooking food.

When the meal was ready, the mercenaries gathered around the fire to receive their portions. Tara watched as Epona approached with a bowl and a small loaf of bread. She grinned lazily when the food was laid into her hands. "Thanks," she drawled. "Glad I don't have to tell you what to do." Epona nodded, and Tara waved a hand. "Go get some for yourself, too." Then, as the slave obeyed, the warrior inspected the food. It seemed to be a stew of some sort, and there was olive oil drizzled on the bread. Tara began to eat with gusto; being outdoors again had strengthened her appetite.

Epona soon returned, and knelt down at her feet to eat her own supper. Tara felt a profound contentment. Good food, fresh air, an old friend, and a new adventure. I don't know of any better recipe for happiness. She reached down to grasp Epona's arm lightly, and pulled her over until she was kneeling between her owner's feet. Then, with a rough caress of the curly head, Tara let go. The slave quietly stayed where she had been put.

There had been a period of silence as the mercenaries and their servants ate. Now pockets of conversation began to open up. Tara watched her new companions in silence as she finished her supper. Some were ignoring her, but she noticed a group of five men to the right of the fire who were casting her dark looks. Her warrior senses perked up, and she felt a subtle thrill go through her muscles. Outwardly, Tara still looked relaxed, even half asleep – but she was alert. Something's going to happen here soon, she thought. I suppose I'd better get ready. 

"Epona." The slave looked up from the last few bites of her meal. "Move behind me. You can finish your supper behind this log, all right?" Epona's eyes showed her perplexity at these instructions, but she did as she was told. Tara made a show of yawning and folding her arms casually. Her fingertips brushed the hilt of her sword.

Soon, there was movement. The group of men she'd noticed got up and approached her; an uneasy silence fell over the camp. Tara was conscious of Drea's presence on the other side of the fire, but she didn't look at her. Instead, she looked up calmly to meet the gaze of the young man who was evidently the ringleader of the smaller group. He looked about twenty years old, and had the large, rounded muscles of a naturally strong man. He stepped forward, stopping about three feet from where Tara was sitting, and folded his arms across his chest. "So you're that Gael wench that everyone's been talking about." He looked her over with a faint sneer. "You don't look like much."

Tara looked at him mildly. "My name," she said, "is Tara."

His sneer grew. "You think you can just waltz in here and take over, huh?"

The woman's eyes chilled to ice, but her demeanor didn't change. "I would imagine that's up to Drea," she said coolly. "She's the one who hired me on."

With a low growl, the young man jerked a heavy mace from his belt. "Well, we don't need your kind here," he snarled. "I ain't worked this hard just so's some redheaded Gael bitch can sashay in and tell me what to do!" His boot made a sudden motion, and a small cloud of dirt flew up into Tara's face. There was a blur of movement. In the space of a heartbeat, Tara was on her feet, snarling, her blade in her hand. One of the servant girls screamed; in the frozen silence that followed, the young man's headless body collapsed into the dust. A man uttered a muffled curse.

Slowly, Tara straightened up, drawing her bloodied sword into a defensive position as her icy eyes raked the remaining mercenaries. She looked every inch the daughter of the war god. "Would anyone else care to test my qualifications?" she asked, her tone very even. The silence was deafening. Tara's gaze moved deliberately from one fighter to the next – every eye dropped before hers. At length, she stooped down, very deliberately cleaned her weapon on the dead man's shirt, and sheathed it. "Good," she said. "In that case, I'll be in my tent if anyone wants me." She turned on her heel. "Come, Epona." The girl, who had been staring at her with bugging eyes and slack jaw, now scrambled to obey.

The darkness and relative peace of the tent was a welcome change. Tara calmly spread out her bedroll, slipping her dagger beneath the head of it. Then she discarded her shield and sprawled herself out with a sigh of contentment. "C'mere," she said, crooking her finger at her wide-eyed slave. Epona hesitated. Then, slowly, the small girl crept to where her owner lay. Tara pulled her down into her arms, cradling her slim body between her knees. She could feel Epona trembling. "Shocked you a bit, hey?"

There was silence for a moment. "You...y-you..." Epona's voice was choked. "You just killed him. He...his head..."

The warrior stroked her fingers through the dark curls that had tumbled across her chest, her lips curved in faint amusement. "Yes, I did. And you watch – I won't get a peep of opposition after this." The slave girl shuddered deeply. Tara gave a low chuckle and kissed the top of Epona's head. "You'll get used to these things, beag luch. Get some sleep. It'll be another long day tomorrow."

The tent flap opened. Tara had a brief glimpse of Drea's profile before it closed again, plunging the tent back into darkness. There was a pause. "Well," came the dark-skinned warrior's wry voice, "I guess you won't have too much trouble with the boys after that little scene."

"Nope." Tara grinned up into the blackness, her hand still threading idly through her slave's soft hair. "I won't."

There was some shuffling, and then a grunt of satisfaction as Drea lay down. "Thanks for leaving the rest of 'em alive."

Tara chuckled darkly. "No problem." Then silence fell. In time, even the murmurs of conversation from outside the tent ceased, and the camp sank into the stillness of night.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Epona's eyes slowly blinked open. A moment later, she wished that they hadn't.

She'd been dreaming of her older sister, and for the first time since that horrible raid, it hadn't been a nightmare. She'd been with her at home, and they'd been talking and laughing together. It had been sweet, and Epona had been happy. The raid, her sister's death – everything had been just a nightmare, and everything had been all right.

The slave squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears. She was lying half on top of the powerful woman who now owned her, with her head pillowed on a muscular shoulder. Two strong arms were wrapped around her body, pinning her in place; Epona couldn't have moved if she'd tried. She didn't dare to try.

It had all happened so quickly, she still couldn't really fathom it all. It still seemed like a dizzying blur. It was just an ordinary night, Epona thought numbly. It was just...we ate supper, and I was thinking about going to bed...would've been my harp lesson the next day. And then the screams, and the fire, and...and...

And running. And roaring, armored figures disgorged by the darkness, as deadly and horrifying as the monsters in the books she so loved to read. Epona couldn't even remember where she and Marcella had run; she'd been so terrified that she couldn't even see straight. And then a big bear of a man had loomed out of the blackness before them. She could remember the firelight glinting off well-oiled chain mail, and blazing eyes under a black helm, and a cowl of wolf fur. Epona had screamed and frozen in abject terror. The armored figure had raised a huge battle-axe. She remembered her sister's shriek as it fell. Then she'd been spattered with Marcella's blood. There she had stood, staring down at her sister's headless body, numb with shock.

Someone – Epona still didn't know who – had grabbed her by the back of her tunic a few minutes later and dragged her over to a huddled group of prisoners.

Marcella. The slave girl choked on the lump in her throat, and felt a couple of tears escape. Her closest friend. Her protector.

Epona thought back over the short years of her life. Marcella had taught her how to ride their pony, she remembered. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the older girl's steadying hand on the small of her back, and the warm glow the new achievement had given her. She could picture Marcella's laughing brown eyes as she'd slipped some little sweetmeat into Epona's small hand at bedtime. She remembered the comforting warmth of her sister's arms around her as they'd snuggled together in front of the fire on winter evenings with cups of warm apple cider.

There were darker memories, too. Epona could see her father's face, twisted in a fury that she couldn't understand, and feel the pain of the kicks. Marcella had been there, too...she'd always been there. Epona could almost hear her voice shouting, and see her thrusting herself between them, taking the blows for her. There had been quiet times afterward, too, when Marcella would have to go to bed for a while, and Epona would wash her bruises for her. Sometimes she would even crawl into bed with her. That had usually made Marcella cry, although Epona had understood that those were good tears.

Epona swallowed hard. She felt the arms holding her shift a bit; her gaze flicked up to the face of the woman holding her, but the warrior didn't wake. The slave let out her breath slowly in relief, and gingerly let her head rest against the woman's body again.

She didn't quite know what to make of Tara yet. The first she'd seen of her was about two seconds before her powerful hand had closed on her arm and yanked her to her feet. That first impression had been frightening – a massive woman, taller than any woman she'd ever seen in her life, with brown eyes as cold as ice and flame-red hair. She was white, too. Her skin was nearly as pale as Epona's, which was unusual.




Tara Ch. 03



Tara had been rough, and very brusque. She'd reminded Epona a little of her mother, although she'd certainly never been worried that her mother would kill her. That resemblance had been shattered for Epona the second night, though.

The night that Tara had first...touched her.

That had been almost a week ago, Epona realized. She'd gotten...well, perhaps it would be going too far to say that she'd gotten used to it now, but at least it didn't make her want to throw up anymore. She glanced down at herself ruefully. Her body was twined with that of her captor beneath the sleeping fur. It was...strange.

She supposed that it was just the fact that Tara was a woman that made it strange to her, though. Epona knew about slavery, and what a slave would have to expect. No matter which of her captors had claimed her, she knew that she would have been obliged to warm someone's bed – it just hadn't ever occurred to her that she might have to warm the bed of another female. Her brow creased. How unusual was this kind of thing, she wondered? She'd never heard of it before. But then, it wasn't as if she'd had much experience in life, either.

The woman was an enigma. On the one hand, she was tremendously strong, and she seemed to delight in frightening and tormenting Epona sometimes. On the other, Tara could be surprisingly gentle, too, and there had been many moments when she'd been inexplicably tender. Like last night – the sudden, shocking ferociousness of her attack on the man she'd beheaded, and then the great gentleness as she'd run her long fingers through Epona's hair.

Epona didn't understand her at all.

The slave thought back to their time at the inn, to the story that Tara had told her about the little girl in Gael. Whatever Tara said about it, Epona had known she'd been talking about herself. Epona pondered it for a moment, comparing it to her own experience. What if she hadn't had Marcella? What if she'd been alone, and had to take all those beatings herself, and hadn't had anyone to help her? I think I'd be angry, Epona mused. I'd be really angry, and maybe I'd have run away, too. But I'm not strong and brave like Tara. I'd have maybe been a pickpocket, and been hanged for it. All the same, Epona thought that maybe she could understand why Tara was as brutal as she was.

But then, why the tenderness? Did Tara like her, or didn't she? Epona frowned into the darkness. She was pretty sure that the warrior didn't really care what she thought about anything, one way or the other. What Tara wanted, she took. But there were those moments, too, when the brown eyes would soften, and the touch of the callused fingers would gentle, and Epona could almost swear that there was affection in both.

She still wouldn't trust those hands not to snap her neck, though.

A shifting farther away in the tent drew Epona's attention. Although she couldn't see in the darkness, the slave girl could feel Drea's presence. She bit her lip. Drea seemed far more relaxed than Tara, and far less fierce, but Epona still didn't think she liked her much. She wasn't really sure why. Drea was certainly more likeable than the erratic redhead...maybe it was simply that Epona had noticed the gleam of interest in the woman's dark eyes when she looked at her. If Tara hadn't been there, the slave felt certain that Drea would have acted on that interest.

...Which was a ridiculous reason not to like her, Epona admitted to herself. Why despise the woman just for wanting to do what Tara did almost nightly? She sighed and closed her eyes. I guess I've just never known women like them before, and I don't know what to do with them. I'm scared. Her fingers closed convulsively over a handful of Tara's shirt. I wish that Marcella was here.

The warrior beneath her took a sudden, deeper breath. Epona grew very still. Then the arm that was wrapped around her shoulders moved up, and the slave girl felt strong fingers sorting through her curls. "Good morning, beag luch," came the calm voice of her owner.

"Ma'am," Epona whispered.

She felt rather than heard the chuckle that ran through Tara's body at this, rumbling deep in her chest. The older woman's fingers caressed the side of her face. "Did you sleep well?"

Epona never knew how she was supposed to respond to that question. Did Tara actually mean it? She chewed her lip. "Yes'm," she said.

"Good." The warrior sat up, carrying the smaller girl with her. Epona waited until the woman's arms released her before timidly moving back to sit on her heels. She felt Tara's weight shift as she stood up, and heard the shuffling as the woman moved around. "About time for my run," the warrior grunted. "I think I hear some of the camp followers up and around already. You can go and make yourself useful."

"Yes, ma'am." Epona hunted in the darkness for her boots, found them, and pulled them on. The gray light of the predawn filtered in as Tara pulled back the tent flap. The woman paused, and the slave saw her eyes glinting at her in the dim light. Obeying the silent command, Epona got up and slipped out past the woman.

A callused hand swatted her on the backside. "Off with you," Tara said gruffly. "I'll be back in an hour or two." Epona nodded, and watched as her owner headed out of the camp and broke into a graceful run. The morning mists soon swallowed the tall woman. With a quiet sigh, the slave turned and made her way toward the fire at the center of the raiders' camp.

There was only one figure by the fire. It was a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length, black hair and a gentle face. Epona couldn't help smiling as she approached her. She'd met this servant the night before, and she liked her. "Good morning," she said softly.

The woman looked up and returned the smile. "Good morning, little lass," she said kindly. "You're up early."

"Yeah. I guess I am. Tara gets up early a lot, I think." Epona peered down at the pot that sat at the woman's feet. "Can I help you?"

"Of course you can. I think I've about got this porridge ready to go on the fire, but we'll need to make some tea, as well. You can do that." The servant indicated another, smaller pot of water that was already beginning to steam on the hot coals. "Do you remember where we keep the leaves?"

"Yes, ma'am," Epona murmured, moving past the seated woman toward the bundles of foodstuff.

A hand caught her gently by the wrist as she passed. Epona paused and looked down into the woman's face in faint surprise. "It's Bernice," the servant said, with a quiet smile, "not ma'am. There's no need for that, Epona."

A shy smile slowly curved the girl's lips. "Okay," she said softly. "Thank you, Bernice." The woman patted her and turned back to her work. Epona went to the pile of bundles, knelt down, and began to rummage for the tea leaves. In the softening gloom, her smile grew just a little wider.



Tara Ch. 04



Tara sat with her back to the trunk of a tree, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and played idly with a dagger. They had finally reached their destination; the caravan they were planning on robbing was due the next day. Drea had called a meeting of her inner circle to plan the heist. The redhead leaned back and regarded the three men who sat by the fire with idle interest. One of them she recognized as having been with the young man whose head she'd taken a few days before; he was shooting her veiled glances every now and then, and his eyes held unmistakable respect. The other two were more or less unknown to her. All three were grizzled veteran fighters, olive-skinned Argonians with the hard muscles that came from long years of training. Tara thought she recognized one of them from the years she had fought under Vasilus, but she didn't know the man's name.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Drea. The woman stumped over to the fire and sat down. Her dark eyes swept the men, met Tara's for a moment, and then moved on. "All right," Drea said at length, once the silence had stretched out for a moment or two. "We've got a fight to plan out, boys." She spread out a scrap of parchment on the top of a stump and tapped it with her finger. "This here's a map of the gully where we'll want to hit 'em. Here's where it narrows. We've got eleven fighters – let's figure out where to put everyone."

The plans began to take shape. Tara sat apart, watching through half-closed eyes. To all appearances, she seemed bored to death. Her sharp hearing, however, missed nothing. She took careful note of which men made the best strategic suggestions, and of their names. Hadrien – the largest of the bunch, but not stupid by any stretch. Argus – lighter tan than the others, doesn't seem that clever about strategy, but I bet he's a wicked fighter. Leander – the best strategic mind of the three. Tara yawned and slipped her dagger back into its sheath.

Drea's dark eyes rose from the map and rested on the redheaded woman. "Do you have anything to add, Tara?" she asked. "You've been pretty quiet."

Silence fell as the three men turned to look at the Gael. Tara gave a leisurely stretch and rose to her feet. "Yes. Actually, I do." She moved over to the map and looked down at it in silence for a moment. There were a number of small pebbles on it, to indicate the positions of their fighters and of the caravan. Tara rested her finger to the left of the inked lines that indicated the narrowest point of the ravine. "I scouted out the area before I came here," she said diffidently. "You folks are wanting to put our fighters on this side, and our three archers on the other; it won't work. The footing on this side of the gully's really iffy – lots of loose stones and soil. Anyone on foot's going to slip and fall, and we need to strike quickly if we want to keep the element of surprise." She tapped the other side of the ravine. "Put our footsoldiers there. Swap them. The archers can stay up high, so they don't have to worry about slipping down the embankment."

There was a pause. Drea's lips curved upward just a bit. "That's a great point," she said. "I think you're right." She glanced at the three men. "Any objections to implementing that?" There was silence, and Drea deftly swapped the stones. Then she raised her eyes to the redhead's again. "We've already got systems we use to fight," she said. "Some of the boys go straight up the middle of the enemy – some are better at hitting the flanks. Where do you fit, Tara?"

Tara gave a quiet smile. She was well aware that Drea already knew the answer to this question. This one's for the benefit of "the boys," I suppose. "I go straight at the enemy," she said calmly. "And if there's any of them left by the time the rest of you get there, you're welcome to them." She patted the hilt of her sword. "I mostly use this, although I can use a javelin if I have one."

"We'll have to find you one tomorrow." Drea scratched her nose. "I bet some of those fellows guarding the gold will have them."

"I bet they will." A surge of adrenaline made Tara's heart beat faster, and she grinned with wicked anticipation. "Maybe I'll borrow a couple then." Drea's eyes met hers, with just a faint twinkle.

Leander cleared his throat, and Tara's attention turned to him. He had very broad shoulders and lean hips, and his features were chiseled. A white scar ran down the length of his left cheek, from ear to chin – he was, nevertheless, a handsome man. "I'm not normally one to question your decisions, Drea," he said slowly. "You've led us well these two years, and I've had nothing to complain of, but..." His eyes rested doubtfully on Tara. "If half the stories about this Gael are true, and if what I saw a couple of nights ago means anything, I don't know if having her with us is such a good idea."

Drea's brows lifted just a touch. "Tara's one of the best bloody fighters in this country, and probably in the world," she said coolly. "Archelaus shot his mouth off and attacked someone who outranked and outclassed him, and he paid for it with his head. I don't see that Tara did anything much worse than what I would have done if he'd pulled that stunt with me."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Aye, maybe," he said grudgingly. "But all the same..."

The redheaded warrior thumped her fist down on the stump just hard enough to make the group jump. Her cold brown eyes caught and held his. "I don't kill without reason," she said evenly. "If you're my ally and under my command, you have nothing to fear from me so long as you shut up and follow orders. I don't think that's unreasonable."

"No," Leander allowed. He still looked a bit doubtful. "I guess not."

Tara nodded shortly. "Other than that..." She looked up at the smaller woman. "Drea's in charge. I'll follow her lead, just like the rest of you."

Drea gave a faint smirk and turned her gaze back on the map. "All right, then. On that note, I think this meeting's over. Unless any of you have something you'd like to add?" There was silence. Drea's eyes moved pointedly to Leander's, and he shook his head. "Good." The dark-skinned woman leaned back, smiled, and shrugged. "Go off and get some rest, then, boys. Tomorrow's the big day." The men headed to their tents. Tara found Drea's dark eyes resting on her; the smaller woman seemed amused. "You follow my lead, do you, Terror?"

"Sure. Unless you do something incredibly stupid." Tara gave a quiet smile. "And unless things have changed a lot in the past couple of years, you're not a stupid woman."

"Hope not," Drea said, her eyes twinkling. "You never know, though. I have taken a few hits to the head in my time." She rose and stretched. "I'm going over to Hadrien's tent. A few of us are playing a round or two of cards before we all hit the hay. You want to come?"

Tara shook her head firmly. "Nope." She got up and brushed the dirt off her clothes.

The smaller warrior shook her head and smirked. "Still the same old antisocial bear," she said. "All right, then. You go and cuddle with the Pony by yourself if you want. I'm playing some cards."

This made Tara pause. She turned to look at Drea and raised a brow. "The pony?"

Drea laughed. "Oh, that's right. You probably wouldn't have heard that yet. Hadrien's servant, Bernice, started calling your little Epona that yesterday. Pony." She grinned. "It kind of suits her, don't you think?"

"Huh." Tara made a face. "If you say so." Drea only laughed again, and made her way into the camp. The redheaded warrior shrugged. Then she went to look for Epona.

She found the girl sitting with two other camp followers, quietly engaged in helping with the mending. The girl raised her moss-green eyes as Tara approached. The faint smile that had been on Epona's face faded abruptly. Tara paused. "Come," she said shortly. "It's time for bed." The slave put down her work, murmured a quick goodbye to her companions, and rose to her feet. Tara's hand rested possessively against the young woman's back as they made their way to their tent.

Once there, Tara lit a small lamp and began to unbuckle the straps that held on her armor. "Strip," she ordered. "Drea's at a card game, so we've got some time to ourselves. I want to make the most of it." Epona gazed at her for a moment, her large eyes inscrutable, before she obeyed.

The sight of the girl's bare skin made Tara's gut burn. She wanted her suddenly – wanted her badly. With a groan, Tara caught the slave by her arm and pulled her close, crushing her lips against hers. She felt Epona's muscles tense, but she didn't care. With a burst of strength, she bore her down to her sleeping mat and began to bite at her breastbone, her hands gripping at Epona's hips. The slave gasped and writhed beneath her; Tara felt small fingers digging into the backs of her arms. "You are delicious," Tara muttered, rising up to catch Epona's lips in another bruising kiss.

"Please." The slave girl's voice was quivering. Tara was surprised to see tears brimming in Epona's green eyes. "Please," she whispered again, "don't hurt me."

What? The warrior looked down at her own hands, only then noticing that her knuckles were white. She loosened her grasp on Epona's hips with some chagrin. All right, all right, tiger. Don't forget that she's only a little thing. Easy, now. She bent down to kiss the slave again, more gently this time. "I won't," she said quietly. "Relax." Her touch became almost tender, and she slowed down. She felt the tense muscles beneath her fingertips begin to loosen. "Is that better?"

"Yes, ma'am." Epona swallowed hard, and didn't meet her gaze.

"Good." Tara slid her palms lightly up the girl's lean flanks. She's still kind of spooked. Maybe I better calm her down a bit more. "I hear someone's given you a nickname," she murmured.

Epona nodded, peering up at her through her black lashes. "Yes'm. Bernice called me Pony," she whispered. "I guess people like it."

Tara brushed her lips over the soft skin of Epona's throat. "Drea was saying," she remarked. "I'm probably not going to call you that, but I suppose it's..." The warrior hesitated, searching for the appropriate word. "...Cute," she finished lamely. She couldn't quite conceal her distaste.

The slave reached up and traced the side of Tara's face, her fingertips sliding over her cheekbone. She seemed pensive. "You don't have to, ma'am," was all she said.

Tara smirked. "You are adorable," she said calmly, and lowered her head to nibble on Epona's collarbone again. Her mouth moved lower – Epona's small hands clutched at her shoulders – and everything else melted away.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The pitch black of night was just beginning to give way to the pearly gray light of dawn, and the world was quiet, save for a few tentative twitters of birdsong. The sky was clear, and it promised to be a beautiful day, once the sun rose and burned off the chill of the early morning mist.

The silence was broken by the soft sound of running feet, and a red-haired woman jogged over the crest of the hill, her long legs devouring the distance with powerful strides. Tara's lips quirked into a faint smile.

She loved daybreak – loved to greet the sun by displaying her strength. Tara gave a broad grin of delight at the thought. She'd already spent an hour or so lifting and hurling great stones, before her restless energy had sent her out on this run. She felt great – and the thought of the battle that lay ahead of her put an extra bounce in her step. Her eye caught a tree branch hanging about five feet over her head. With a sudden burst, Tara sprang and caught it, flipping herself onto it with an agility surprising in one so tall. Three more leaps took her to the top of the tree. There she crouched, panting lightly, and took in her surroundings.

There was no sign of human habitation as far as her eye could see, except for the distant road to the north, and the smoke from the campfire a few miles to the west. Tara gave a sigh of contentment. She soaked in the peace and solitude for a minute or two longer. Then she rose to her feet, walked out on the branch, and leaped, throwing her arms out as if to take flight.

The wind rushed past her as she fell. Tara laughed with the sheer joy of it, then reached out and caught another branch, swinging and propelling herself upward again. For several minutes she played, soaring and flipping through the air like a gigantic bird. Finally, with one last graceful spin, Tara dropped down to the earth. The moment her feet touched the ground, she took off westward.

She'd begun this morning ritual of exercise soon after being kicked out of the army in Gaelis. At first, it had just been a way to build extra strength and endurance, and to burn off her excess energy. It had quickly become a pleasure as well, her competitive nature finding great pleasure in pitting her growing muscles against the immutable stones. Tara was never happier than when she was fighting, but her morning workouts came a very close second.

She ran back the way she had come, her feet tirelessly beating against the ground. About half a mile from camp, her pace slowed. She could smell moisture in the air; the faint roar of flowing water came to her ears. With a slight smile, Tara turned her steps toward the sound.

The river that flowed nearly parallel to the distant road tumbled down into a pool at one point. Tara had found it during her initial scouting of the area. Now she stopped on the embankment, quickly stripped off her clothes, and leaped gracefully into the water.

It was icy cold. Tara's breath caught in her throat as her head surfaced again. She inhaled sharply and dove down, until her hands slid into the slimy mud at the bottom. Then she curved her body, dug her feet in, and pushed off. The water rushed against her face as she swam upward. An exultant smile curved her lips as her head burst out into the air once more. Gasping with exertion and exhilaration, she pulled herself back up on dry land and lay back on the grass. The morning sun felt hot against her wet skin.

Tara closed her eyes. She felt good – replete. Energy hummed through her body. I'm ready, she thought. I'm ready to fight. Suddenly, she couldn't bear the absence of her armor and sword any longer. Bounding to her feet, Tara quickly pulled on her clothes, tucked her dagger into its sheath, and dashed off toward the mercenary camp.

The camp was stirring. From the smells that wafted to Tara's nose as she approached, she guessed that breakfast was almost ready. She spotted Drea sitting off to one side, deep in conversation with Hadrien. Epona was with the camp followers who were preparing the food. Tara snapped her fingers at her as she passed. "Come," she ordered. The slave got up and followed her silently.

Her armor was waiting for her in her tent. Tara gave it a quick inspection before turning to her quiet slave. "You might as well learn how to help me with this," she said calmly. "It's a pain putting it on by myself." The warrior stripped off her tunic, and then hunted about for the small container of war paint she kept in her saddlebags. It was one Gael practice that she'd held onto – woad battle paint. She dug her fingers into the blue stuff and began to apply it to her skin in dramatic swirls. Once her face and torso were covered, she closed the container and picked up her heavy shoulder armor. Epona staggered under its weight as Tara thrust it at her. "Lift that up over my head," she instructed, quickly throwing on her mail shirt.

It took visible effort, but Epona managed to put the armor in place over Tara's shoulders. The warrior gave terse instructions about which straps should buckle where; Epona's dainty fingers tied laces and fastened straps with tolerable skill. Bracers followed, and then her leg armor. When the final strap had been fastened, the smaller girl sat back on her heels and peered up at Tara. "Is that all right, ma'am?"

Tara considered, flexing her calf muscles and stamping her feet. Then she jerked her head and grunted her approval as she reached for her sword and shield. "Bring me my helm." Epona obeyed. Tara slung her shield onto her back and sheathed her blade at her side. Then, taking her crested helmet from the slave's hands, she thrust it onto her head. A ripple of adrenaline moved through her, and she could feel the feral excitement of war stirring to life. She looked down.

Epona winced and shrank back a little when their eyes met. Tara smirked. "What? You've seen me in this armor before."

"No, ma'am. Not like this," Epona whispered with a deep shiver. Her moss-green eyes dropped under the glittering gaze of Tara's.

The warrior smirked a little wider. Her slave's fear was obvious – she hoped she would intimidate her men and her enemies as well. Tara clapped Epona roughly on the back. "Good work," she said gruffly. "Get back out there and see if they still need any help with breakfast." The girl fairly scuttled from the tent. Chuckling, Tara casually followed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The caravan was coming.

Tara's eyes glinted as she followed its progress toward them. She counted the enemy silently. ...Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty... One brow slowly raised. She turned her head to look at Drea, who was crouched beside her and scowling. "How many?" she murmured.

"I know," Drea muttered darkly. "Ten more than we expected. Not good."

"Calling it off?" Tara's voice was cool.

Drea smirked. "Hades, no. I'm just calling in my secret weapon." She patted Tara's well-muscled thigh. "You up to it, Terror?" Tara's only reply was a small, cold smile. The two fell silent, watching their prey.

The ambush was set. The three archers were crouched across the narrow gorge, arrows on the string, awaiting Drea's signal. Behind them huddled the four camp followers who had been chosen as field medics. Epona was among them, having been chosen for her gentle hands and soothing manner. Tara had objected to this at first, pointing out that Epona had no experience, but Leander had countered that she had to learn sometime. After some persuasion, Tara had given her grudging consent. She glanced across the ravine. Although the camp followers were huddled behind a bush, Tara's eagle eye could make out Epona's nervous face peering uncertainly from the foliage. The warrior frowned briefly. Then she put the matter out of her mind and turned her attention back to their quarry.

They were close now. Tara could see the carriage where the gold was probably being kept, and the details of the weapons the soldiers were carrying. There were javelins, and good ones. Tara grinned. I'll win me one of those today, she vowed, loosening her sword in its sheath.

Closer – closer. Tara's dark eyes flicked to Drea. The smaller woman had her blade drawn, ready to give the signal to attack. Tara's eyes glistened as adrenaline surged through her veins. A pause – the sword raised – another, interminable pause...

Then it came down, and Tara was on her feet, charging headlong down the steep incline as if bent on breaking her neck. Her sword was in her hand before she was even aware of having drawn it. With a wild yell, she fell on the nearest enemy, only briefly noting it when two of them fell with arrows protruding from their bodies.

At first, it was just adrenaline. Tara's blade clattered off an upraised bracer. She spun, driving the edge of her shield hard into the side of the soldier's head. There was a moist crack. She didn't even stop to watch him fall; she was already attacking her next target. The sickly sweet smell of blood rose up in Tara's nostrils – the predator in her roared to life. She began to laugh as her blade carved out a swath of death all around her. A sword swiped at her head! Tara ducked under it, swinging her shield at the man's exposed side. There was a crunch of bone, and he fell with a choked cry.




Tara Ch. 04



Tara's laughter rang out as she waded forward. She was in full battle fury now, exulting in every swing of her sword and every enemy that fell beneath its pitiless edge.

And then there were no more enemies, and the field was hers. Tara darted to the cart that held the gold, leaped onto its roof with one spring, and thrust her sword into the air with a roar of triumph. The cry was echoed by the other mercenaries. Slowly, the red miasma of battle faded from her vision. Panting with exertion and fierce joy, Tara slowly lowered her sword and looked around.

All of their enemies lay dead except one; two raiders were busily engaged in binding him with ropes. One of the mercenaries had fallen near the cart. One look was enough to tell Tara that he wouldn't be rising again. Wonder where Epona is? The warrior looked around until her eye found the slim form of her slave. Her heart nearly stopped.

The camp followers were bent over the crumpled body of a mercenary. Tara's dark eyes took in the familiar limbs with a sudden shock of fear. "Drea!" In an instant, the Gael was back on the ground and dashing to the woman's side. She impatiently shouldered a camp follower aside. "Move! Let me look at her."

Drea's brown eyes were glazed with pain, but she grinned weakly at the redhead. "Hey, Terror. Relax, all right? It's not fatal."

"Where are you hurt?" Tara was already removing Drea's armor with swift, sure movements. Blood was gushing from the warrior's side; more seeped from a nasty cut that ran across her upper arm. Tara quickly pinched the wound closed and looked up into Epona's wide, green eyes. "Hold this shut," she ordered. "Put pressure on it. That'll keep her from bleeding out." The slave obeyed with trembling hands. "Someone sew it up," Tara snapped, turning her attention to Drea's side.

The woman's tunic was plastered to her skin with blood and earth. Tara drew her dagger and cut the cloth to expose the wound. It was ugly – a deep, three-cornered gash that revealed the white bone of Drea's ribs. Tara heard Epona gasp in horror. Calmly, the warrior looked at one of the hovering field medics. "Water," she said tersely. A skin of it appeared, and Tara washed the wound thoroughly, taking care to flush out every speck of dirt. Then she pulled the cut closed with her fingers. "Give me a threaded needle," she snapped. Someone pressed the implement into her hand, and Tara began to stitch the wound closed, one layer at a time.

Drea's face was white with pain and loss of blood, but she managed a wavering smile as Tara worked. "Just like old times, huh?"

Tara did not return the smile. "I'd rather not relive this particular memory, Drea," she said coldly. "What happened?"

"I got my sword stuck between a guy's armor plates for a second," the wounded woman said. "One of those soldiers got me in the side. I killed him, but he stung my arm pretty good first."

"Bloody Hades," Tara muttered. She finished the stitching, leaving a bit of the cut open so it could drain. Then she flushed it with water, dusted it with healing herbs, and bound up the wound with one of the field medic's linen bandages. "There. All patched up."

"Thanks." Drea slowly sat up, grimacing with the effort, and rubbed her eyes. "Damn. Maybe I'm getting too bloody old for this nonsense, Terror."

"I'm sure the gold will ease your pain." Tara's lips quirked just a little as she rose to her feet. "You need to be carried back?"

Drea glared at her. "Rot in Tartarus," she growled. "Do I look like some kind of a cream puff to you? Give me your damn hand." Tara extended her arm. Drea grasped it and pulled herself up. For a moment she paled, and her grip on Tara's forearm tightened. Then she released her grasp and strode toward the other mercenaries, barking orders.

Tara turned to look at the silent camp followers. "Bring her armor back to camp," she instructed. "Have medical supplies ready for when we get back." The servants obeyed, and Tara followed after Drea.

It took a couple of hours to pack the gold and the rest of their loot back to the campsite. By the time the last of it was done, it was already dark out. The money and things were stacked nearly up near the fire, to be doled out the next day.

Tara looked at Drea. The woman was standing by the pile of loot with her arms folded, the very picture of stoic strength. The redhead could see the telltale pallor, however, and the faint twitching of Drea's lips. Tara calmly gestured. "Sit down, Captain. I want another look at your wounds." Drea gave her a dour look. It seemed for a moment as if she would refuse. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Drea seated herself on a section of log.

The gash on Drea's side looked angry and red. Tara quietly washed it again and changed the bandage. Then she carefully removed the bandages that hid the cut on Drea's right arm.

It was worse than Tara had initially thought. The cut wasn't very long, but it was deep. It had, in fact, come perilously close to severing the muscle completely. Tara's eyes blazed as she cleaned and bandaged the wound. Those bastards almost crippled her. They're bloody lucky they're all in Hades already, because if they weren't, I'd damn well send them there now!

She got up. Her eyes suddenly darkened as they alighted on the young man they'd taken prisoner. He was sitting about twenty feet from the campfire, his hands tied behind his back. Tara snarled, and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Before she'd really had time to think, her sword was naked in her hand, and she was striding purposefully across the expanse that separated them. Startled camp followers scattered out of her way.

When she reached him, Tara stopped for a moment to drink in his reactions. She saw his eyes widen, his face grow pale, and beads of cold sweat begin to form on his cheeks. Tara's inner predator rejoiced. She knew there was death in her face – she gave a feral smile as she pulled back her blade.

"No!" And suddenly small hands were clutching at Tara's sword arm. The shock of it made the warrior freeze for a moment. Her dark eyes flicked down to see Epona standing before her; the girl was weeping softly and clinging to her. "Don't! Please don't, ma'am. He's tied up, he can't even fight you..."

Rage flared up in Tara's belly. With a snarl, she swung hard! The hilt of her sword caught the slave full in the mouth, snapping her head back and throwing her to the ground. Tara plunged her blade to the hilt in the young man's body, almost as an afterthought. Then she turned on Epona. The slave was crumpled into a sobbing heap on the grass. Without one word, Tara reached down, caught Epona by the wrist, and dragged her bodily to the edge of the camp.

By the time Tara let Epona fall again, the slave was almost hysterical with fear. "D-don't kill me," she sobbed out. "Please, don't kill me!"

"Shut up!" The furious warrior brought the back of her hand viciously across Epona's bloodied mouth. The slave cried in pain and terror. "You defied me in front of the entire camp. You've disgraced me!" Tara's eyes darted around until they came to rest on a nearby tree. With one hard jerk, she wrenched off a branch, and quickly stripped off the smaller twigs until she held a long switch; it was as thin and supple as a steel rod. "Take off your tunic."

As panic-stricken as Epona was, she didn't dare to disobey. Tara snatched at the slave's forearm then, jerked Epona toward herself, and began to strike. Temper drove her on. She lashed the squealing girl mercilessly until her switch broke. Then, her rage still unappeased, Tara began to beat her with her fist. Not until Epona's screams had faded into pitiful whimpers did Tara stop. Then, panting with exertion, she let the slave drop. Her brown eyes coldly surveyed her handiwork.

Even in the dim light, Tara could see the livid stripes that marked the girl's naked back and sides. Epona's face was covered with blood. She lay, twitching and choking with sobs, at the warrior's feet.

Tara's eyes were like ice. "Don't you dare show your face by the campfire until I give you leave," she hissed. "If you so much as twitch, I swear I'll whip you until your bones show through your skin!" With that, she spun on her heel and headed toward her tent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The dawn was beginning to soften the dead black of the night sky. The raiders' camp was stirring. A few of the camp followers were just starting breakfast, and some early-rising mercenaries were chatting somewhere near where the horses were tethered. Tara sat by the campfire with her armor in her lap, glowering as she cleaned and repaired it. She had gone and taken a cold bath already that morning to cleanse the gore and war paint from her skin, but she still looked dangerous. Every now and then, she put a large bottle to her lips and drank deeply. Everyone was careful to give her a wide berth.

There was a stirring, and footsteps approached. Tara looked up to see Drea standing near her. She scowled and looked away, impatiently thrusting a fringe of red hair out of her eyes. There was a pause. Then Drea sat down beside her. "Morning."

Tara glared at the fire and took a long, determined swig from her bottle. "Go away."

Drea shot her a quiet smile. Tara could see it out of the corner of her eye. "What's up?"

The larger woman turned abruptly to glare at her, setting aside the tool she'd been using to repair her armor. "Why in Hades should anything be up? I'm not in the mood to chat. Bugger off."

"Come on, Tara. I've known you for a long time, so give me some credit. I know the signs – you're chugging your bottle of sherry at six in the morning." Drea tapped the offending container with one callused finger. "Kick my ass if you want, but I'm still gonna ask. Now, you stubborn old warhorse, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Tara growled. "Now go away, or I will kick your ass."

The dark-skinned woman raised one brow. "Mm-hmm." She leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. There was silence for a while. "Look," Drea said at length, "I get it. I'm as hard-bitten as they come. I'm a tough old bitch, and so are you, and we don't do the hug-around-the-campfire thing. But we're still human." Her brown eyes caught Tara's. "That's nothing to be ashamed of."

The redhead scowled and looked away. "Just because we used to warm each others' bedrolls doesn't mean I won't bloody your nose, Drea."

"So bloody it. Wouldn't be the first time," Drea said cheerfully. "In the meantime, spill – you're feeling bad about beating up Epona, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Tara's voice dropped dangerously.

"Come on, Terror. It's not like it's some big secret, you know." Drea smiled. Tara's eyes met hers coldly; she took another long drink from her rapidly-emptying bottle. "So you've got a soft spot for Pony. What's so bad about that? She's a cute little thing. She's sweet and innocent – makes you want to protect her. Nothing wrong with that."

Tara deliberately set down her sherry. "She is my slave," she said through gritted teeth. "She defied me in front of the camp, and she deserved every lash I gave her for it."

"Who's arguing?" Drea shrugged, looking up at the sky. "Like you said, she's your slave. What you do with her is technically your business. All I'm saying is, it's fine if you feel bad about it, too. You don't always have to be channeling Ares, you know." 

The dangerous glint vanished abruptly from Tara's eyes. She took another halfhearted drink from her bottle. "It's the Morrigan, not Ares," she corrected quietly. Her hand rubbed tiredly through her mussed hair. "I'm a Gael, not an Argonian."

"I doubt that matters much. The two of 'em are about the same, seems to me," Drea said dryly. In the silence that followed, the olive-skinned warrior absently drew a dagger and began to polish the blade on a corner of her tunic. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about what happened," she said. "You do have the right to do what you want with Epona, so don't think I'm questioning that. But the way things went down..." Tara stared silently into the flames. "One of the things I have to do as the leader of this group is keep the fellows happy," Drea went on. "We're all glad if we can get a good fighter with us, and you're definitely that. You killed nearly half of those guards by yourself yesterday. The boys notice things like that. But they really don't like you." 

The redhead shrugged. "So? I'm not here to make friends."

"Maybe not," Drea agreed quietly, "but if you're going to be my second – and I want you to be, Tara – the boys at least need to not hate you, all right? All they've seen of you so far is violence, and the fact that you don't drink or game with them. And whether you like this or not, people here kind of like Pony, and the fact that you beat her in front of everyone didn't really endear you to them, whether she deserved it or not." Tara scowled, but said nothing. "I'm not exactly rebuking you yet, all right? Just...well, maybe think about things a little more. Okay?"

"Fine," Tara muttered. "Whatever."

"All right." The dark-skinned woman seemed relieved. She stopped her idle playing with her knife and sheathed it. "Listen, a couple of the camp girls wondered if they could give Pony some food and patch her up some. She's had a miserable night."

Tara shook her head firmly. "No," she said. "She's still being punished. I'll take care of her in a bit, but I'll do it myself."

Drea hesitated. She seemed about to argue the point, but then sighed and shrugged. "All right. I'll pass it on." She clapped Tara on the shoulder. "Try to leave some booze for the rest of us, all right?"

"Sure." Tara's dark eyes followed the woman as she left, and then dropped pensively back to the fire.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Epona was huddled on the ground, shivering. Tara could see her there – she was still on the spot where the warrior had dropped her the night before. Probably too scared to move, Tara thought wryly. She sighed and glanced up at the sky. It was getting close to noon. It was probably time. The redhead got up, grabbed a bundle and flask that lay nearby, and headed toward the quivering form of her slave.

The wide green eyes noted Tara's approach. Epona struggled up to her knees and hunched there, trembling visibly, with her head down. Tara thought she was probably crying. The warrior moved to stand over her. She was silent for a moment, running her dark eyes over Epona's form. The girl was still naked to the waist, having not even dared to put her tunic back on; the wicked cuts and welts stood out in stark relief against the white skin. There might be infection, Tara mused. I'll have to get her over by the fire to treat her, in case I need to boil water. "Come on," she said shortly. "Bring your shirt." And she strode back toward the flickering flames.

Conversations flagged as curious eyes fell on Tara. She swept the raiders with a cold glare, and all eyes were suddenly averted. She knew, though, that she and her slave were still being watched. Tara sighed and turned to the cringing girl. "Kneel down," she ordered. Epona obeyed in silence. Tara went down on one knee to assess the damage.

The whipping had been pretty brutal, Tara thought grimly, her fingers gently probing at the torn back. There were countless blue-black welts, and at least twelve long cuts. Five of the gashes were puffy and red with infection, although none of them looked ready to drain yet. Without comment, Tara added a handful of herbs to a pot of water and let it sit for a few minutes. Then she strained it and dipped out some of the liquid. "Don't move," she said quietly. "This will sting, but it'll help keep your back from getting too infected." Epona nodded miserably, and Tara began to wash her wounds.

When the cleansing was done, Tara turned her slave so she could examine her face. It was still caked with dirt and dried blood. Gravely, Tara dipped a clean rag in water and bathed away the filth. The left side of Epona's face, from eye to chin, was covered in an ugly purple bruise. Her lip was badly cut. That'll be where I hit her with my sword hilt, Tara thought, probing the wound gently. "That lip's going to need stitches," she said with a shake of her head. "Hold on a minute." And she held the tip of a needle in a flame for a moment or two.

Epona flinched as Tara approached with the wickedly-sharp little implement. The warrior paused. "This will pinch a bit," she said quietly. "You need to hold still and take deep breaths. I'll work as fast as I can."

"Yes, ma'am." Epona's voice shook, but she bravely screwed her eyes shut. Tara hesitated. Then she gently pinched the sides of the cut together. She skillfully placed two stitches to hold the gaping wound closed. The slave didn't move, but a whimper passed her trembling lips.

"Good girl," Tara murmured. "That should heal cleanly now."

"Ma'am?" The warrior paused in the act of packing away her healer's kit. The slave's green eyes were full of pain and fear, but she bravely met her owner's gaze. "My...my arm...," she whispered timidly, holding out her left wrist. Tara looked at it. The forearm was grossly swollen, and the skin was a deep, livid purple. What...how did... The warrior gently took the poor little limb in her hands and examined it, her brow creased. Did I actually break her arm? How did...oh. The memory of holding the shrieking slave by her wrist flashed before Tara's eyes. Ye gods. Sometimes I don't know my own strength.

"Your arm's broken," Tara said shortly. She reached over, caught up her flask, and thrust it at the wide-eyed slave. "Drink this. Drink all of it. It'll make this easier to bear." Epona tasted the whiskey cautiously, shuddered, and hesitated. Tara scowled. "Drink!" The slave obeyed.

Even with the poor girl half-drunk, the setting of her arm was an ugly affair. Tara had to pull and twist the shattered limb four times before the bones were finally aligned properly. By the time she finished splinting and bandaging the arm, Tara's face was slick with sweat. She wiped her brow and took a deep breath. Then, wearily, she gathered the sobbing girl into her arms and rose to her feet. "Come on, beag luch," she said quietly. "You've had a long morning. Let's get you lying down."

It felt good to prop herself up against a fallen log and draw Epona down into her arms. Tara sighed and pulled the curly head up against her shoulder. The slave was still sobbing weakly. Her slender body felt tense in Tara's arms. "Shh," Tara murmured. "You're all right. It's over now. Rest."

"Please," Epona whimpered, "I..."

"It's all right," the warrior said. "You've been punished. You're forgiven. It's over." 

Epona shuddered. Tara laid a hand against her unbruised cheek and held her quietly. She heard the slave gulp a couple of times. "Ma'am?" The voice was tiny. "Did...did you have to kill that boy?"

"That wasn't your decision, and it wasn't your affair," Tara said coldly. She felt the slave girl flinch. Calmly, she ran her fingers through the dark curls that lay against her chest. Epona's body still felt tense; Tara drew her head up a little and kissed her brow. "Sleep now." Normally, Epona would probably have been in too much pain to rest, but she had swallowed a lot of whiskey. Tara felt the slender form slowly relax in her arms. A few minutes later, the dark head rolled heavily against the side of the warrior's neck. Epona was unconscious.

There was movement nearby, and Drea appeared. She regarded the sleeping girl gravely. "She doing better?" she grunted.

"Yep." Tara jerked her head curtly.

"Good." With a stiff nod of her own, Drea turned and headed back toward their tent.



Tara Ch. 05



Morning had come, and breakfast was already over. Tara still lay against the log with Epona in her arms. The slave had slept little, and neither, in consequence, had Tara. The warrior peered down at the curly head that lay pillowed on her breast. Epona's cheeks were flushed, and her face was twisted in pain. Tara brushed a hand over the slave's forehead; it felt warm. "You in pain, kid?"

The green eyes opened and looked up. They were dull and glazed. "Yes, ma'am," Epona whispered.

Tara tested the temperature of the slave's cheeks; they, too, were hot to the touch. "Where does it hurt?" she asked quietly.

"My arm, mostly." Epona blinked back tears. It was obvious that she was trying desperately to be brave.

The warrior sighed. "Okay. Probably time to look you over again. Hold still." She carefully laid her burden down on the ground. Epona stifled a groan. Gently, Tara peeled back the cloak she had wrapped the girl in and examined her back.

It was worse. At least eight of the open cuts now showed signs of infection, and three were weeping and full of pus. Tara winced inwardly. No wonder the kid's running a fever. "I'll have to wash this again," she said calmly. "It's going to hurt." Epona shut her eyes tightly as her owner made a few quick preparations. Then Tara flushed the wounds thoroughly with water. The slave whimpered as the warrior dusted the cuts liberally with healing herbs. "Done," Tara said, brushing a soothing hand over Epona's cheek. "Let's see the arm."

The wrist had swollen a great deal during the night, and the bandage was now far too tight. "Huh. No wonder this hurts," Tara muttered. "Hold still. I'll fix you up." Epona gave a huge sigh of relief as the bandage came off. Tara repositioned the splints and carefully wrapped up the broken arm again. Then she doused the bandage with cool water, and Epona moaned softly. "There. That's better, isn't it?" Tara set down the water skin. "C'mere." She pulled the slave back up into her arms. The smaller girl huddled against her in silence.

It felt good to hold Epona's slim body. Tara couldn't help but remember what Drea had said earlier. Wonder if it's true. Do I have a "soft spot" for her? The redhead's brow creased. Wouldn't have held Clytie or Meriel like this. I'd have just let them suffer...that's the point of punishment, isn't it? She looked down at the girl in her arms. Epona's eyes were closed, but Tara could still see the tracks of tears on her pale cheeks. She didn't like even the idea of leaving the girl to endure this alone. Damn it. What's wrong with me? I'd better make sure she doesn't think I'm some kind of damn marshmallow. Tara cleared her throat. "Does it still hurt?" Epona gave a tremulous nod. "Good," the warrior said sternly. "You'll think twice before you challenge me again, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," the smaller girl whispered. Tara could feel the tension thrumming through Epona's boyish form.

Some of the severity faced from Tara's face at this. She brushed her knuckles across the slave's cheek. "Just do as you're told. Obey, and you won't earn more beatings." Epona said nothing.

Boots crunched against the stony ground, and Tara looked up to find Drea standing over them. "Hey," the dark-skinned woman said. "We're about to parcel out the gold and stuff. Come get your cut, Terror."

Calmly, Tara laid her slave down on the ground and covered her carefully with the cloak. Not until this little operation was complete did she stand up and meet Drea's gaze. "There're only ten of us now, Drea," she said. The smaller warrior raised a brow, and Tara's lips pursed coolly. "I want an eighth."

There was a pause. Drea didn't seem surprised, but she regarded Tara with a calculating expression. "I could point out that you were hired for a tenth, fair and square," she remarked, "but I won't." There was another pause. "Tell you what; I'll give you a ninth, plus first choice of the loot."

"Eighth," Tara said firmly, folding her powerful arms across her chest. Then, as Drea frowned, "You're the one who wants me here. I don't care if I stay or not. You stiff me, and I'm gone."

Drea sighed wearily and gave her a disgusted look. "Fine, fine. An eighth it is. Go make your choices, then, so we can dole the rest of it out." The redhead nodded with a triumphant smirk.

They'd captured quite a decent pile of armor and weapons, and the four horses that had been drawing the cartful of gold. Tara didn't even glance at the horses; she knew none of them could match her own mount. She was conscious of the eyes watching her as she began to sift through the pile of weapons. That's right, boys. First choice is mine. Eat your hearts out. Tara's lips curved upward slightly.

First things first -- Tara wanted a javelin. She chose one that was sturdy and well-maintained. It had been a long time since she'd carried one; its weight felt good in her hand. Tara set it down and examined the swords. They were standard-issue military blades. None of them were any better than hers, so she shrugged and laid them aside.

Then one of the captured shields caught her attention. It was better than the others -- well-made, heavy with brass, and engraved with intricate scenes of the Argonian gods at war. Tara could pick out Ares with his mighty sword, and Athena wielding a javelin, and Artemis drawing her bow. There was Zeus, brandishing a lightning bolt; she could even see Hades itself pictured at the bottom of the shield, complete with Charon and Cerberus, and the mighty twin rivers, Lethe and Styx. Tara didn't hesitate. "I'll take these," she said, slinging the shield onto her back and hefting her javelin. Her eyes met Drea's. "If anyone wants me, you know where to find me." The dark-skinned warrior nodded, and Tara headed back to where she had left Epona.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The camp had been packed up, and the mercenaries were mounting their horses. It had only taken about an hour after doling out the loot to finish the job. Tara fastened the buckle on one last saddlebag and gave her horse an affectionate slap on the rump. He looked at her with a slight roll of his liquid eyes; Tara grinned and scratched his neck. "Ready to go, boy?" she said. "Bet you're glad to see some action after sitting around for a few days, huh?" She straightened his mane. "I'll get the runt, and we'll head out." She turned away.

Epona was lying face-down on a patch of soft grass with her cloak spread over her like a blanket. Tara went down on one knee and pressed her palm against her brow; the slave's skin felt hot. Tara frowned. "Hey," she said quietly. "Ready to go, beag luch?"

Moss-green eyes opened a crack. They glistened with a hectic brilliance in the flushed little face. "Yes'm," Epona whispered.

Tara slid her arms carefully beneath the girl's body. Epona whimpered; Tara felt small fingers clutch at her sleeve. "Easy," the warrior murmured, adopting the soothing tone she would have used with a nervous horse. "Easy, now." She settled Epona's weight across her chest and shoulder, holding her with her left arm. Tara then put her foot in the stirrup and, with an athletic vault, swung into the saddle. She took a moment to settle Epona across her lap. The curly head was dead weight against her chest.

Drea rode up alongside her. "Hey. How's Pony doing?" she asked. Her tone was nonchalant, but Tara detected concern in the woman's dark eyes.

"She's got a fever," the redhead said shortly, "but she'll be fine." She glanced past Drea to the campsite; everything seemed to be ready. "Looks like time to head out."

"Yep." The dark-skinned woman looked around. Then, with a wave of her arm, she dug her heels into her horse's sides. The group of raiders began to ride.

The two women rode together in silence for a while. Finally, Drea cleared her throat. "Remember what I said to you about group morale?" Tara looked at her coolly. The smaller woman's eyes remained on the road ahead. "I think it'd be a good idea for you to come and drink with the boys a few times. You don't have to do it every night, or anything. Just enough so they can start seeing that you're human."

Tara smirked. "Oh? What do they think I am now?"

Drea didn't smile. "They think you're a real bitch of a killing machine," she said frankly. Tara's grin widened, and Drea rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, I know -- you're going to say that's true, right?" The redhead chuckled at this. "Look, no one's going to argue that you're not an incredible warrior, least of all me," Drea said. "You've earned their obedience and respect. That's good. Now I want you to earn their allegiance."

"Why?" Tara's gaze was calm. "You've already got that. You're their leader, not me."

The dark-skinned woman shook her head. "I brought you in, Terror. I told the boys that you're a fighter, and they've seen it. But if you make them hate you, they won't follow you, and that makes it kind of hot for me, all right? It's my ass on the line." Tara just looked at her, and Drea sighed. "Tara, please. At least try. Do it for me."

The redhead scowled and looked away. She really didn't care whether the others liked her or not, and she had no intention of making this group a permanent part of her life. But, well...Epona does seem to be getting along with people here, and I am kind of enjoying riding with Drea again. Guess I could have a few mugs of ale with the men if it'll get Drea off my case. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll give it a shot."

Drea grinned and reached over to give Tara's leg a slap. "Good. Thanks." Then, with a click of her tongue, the dark-skinned woman spurred her horse on ahead. Tara watched her go with doubtful eyes.

The girl in her arms stirred and groaned, drawing her attention. Tara looked down to study Epona's face. The slave's eyes were closed, and she looked thoroughly miserable. There was a fine sheen of moisture on her skin. Tara took a corner of her own cloak and gently wiped the slave's brow. Epona peered groggily up at her. "All right, Epona?" the warrior asked quietly.

The green eyes closed again. "Hurts," Epona whispered. Her voice was very faint. "Sick."

Tara tested the temperature of the flushed little face again, and felt a pang of worry. "Hang on," she said brusquely, reaching down to fumble in a saddlebag. Tara had taken care to pack her healer's kit within easy reach; now she began to measure herbs into a cup. After a few minutes' work, she filled the cup with water and swirled it around a little. "Swallow this," she said, holding it to Epona's lips. "Tastes like crap, but it'll help you sleep." Epona gulped feebly. She shuddered at the bitterness of the medicine, but uttered no complaint. Tara put the cup away and turned her attention back to the road. In a minute or two, she glanced down at her burden; Epona was sound asleep.

The day wore on. The slave slept for most of it. When they stopped for their midday meal, Tara only managed to coax a little water into the girl. By the time evening came, Epona was beginning to murmur deliriously. The warrior laid her hand on Epona's cheek; it was burning hot to the touch. Tara's brow creased. She heard Drea give the order to stop and make camp. For a few moments, Tara sat still, considering her options. Then she spurred her mount over to Drea's side.

The dark-skinned woman turned to her. Drea's eyes narrowed and dropped to Epona as soon as she saw the look on Tara's face. "She's worse," Tara confirmed quietly. "I'm going on ahead. If I ride hard, I can make the inn at Argos before noon. She needs a real bed."

Drea rubbed her chin. "Well, all right. We can meet up at the inn the day after tomorrow, I guess. Whenever we make it." She met Tara's gaze. "Is she going to be all right?"

"She'll be fine." Tara turned away. "I'll see you later." She kicked her heels, and her warhorse snorted and broke into a trot.

The sunlight faded and died, leaving only the silver light of the stars and the quarter moon. The air grew chilled. Tara took off her own cloak and carefully wrapped it around the slave girl's limp body. Epona's head turned, and Tara saw her eyes glinting in the darkness. "Ma?" Epona whispered. "Ma, I'm cold."

Boy, she's really out of it. "You'll be okay," Tara said calmly. "I'll get you a warm bed soon." The body in her arms stilled again, and Epona's eyes closed. Tara tucked the cloak up to the girl's chin. Then, on impulse, she bent to kiss the damp forehead. "Hang in there, little mouse," she murmured.

Here in the silence, it was impossible not to think about things. Tara found herself remembering how Epona had cried while she was being whipped -- picturing the naked terror in the girl's face as she had begged Tara not to kill her. At the time, as angry as Tara was, she had taken almost a vicious pleasure in these things. Now, though, the warrior found herself feeling a little uneasy. Fact is, I just lost my damn temper, Tara thought. Epona deserved to be punished, but what I did was too much. I just lost it and beat on her, like some damn bloody two-year-old having a tantrum.

It was the battle fever, Tara growled to herself, frowning deeply. She crossed me while I was still all over woad and blood and glory. Damn it, she's lucky I didn't take my sword and run her through. The warrior clasped Epona's curly head against her chest and gave a long sigh. I'd better never punish her again when I'm angry like that. Epona's only a little thing. I could kill her without even meaning to.

The slave girl began to shiver. She burrowed against Tara's warmth, her teeth chattering audibly. "C-cold," she pleaded hoarsely. "So cold..."

"Okay." Tara didn't even bother to test the girl's temperature; she fumbled for the cup and water skin. "Hang on, Epona. I'll dose you again." She'd prepared the herbs in advance, and she was glad she had. It would have been difficult to mix them properly in the dark. Tara filled the cup with water and held it to Epona's mouth. "Here. Swallow that." The slave gulped weakly. A few minutes later, her shivering abated, and she slept like one dead. Grimly, Tara spurred her mount, and the two of them were carried swiftly through the silvered shadows.