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The Assassin

By: inFamousHero



Author's Note

I would like to admit that Elanna is based off the character Ezio in Assassin's Creed 2, I'm a big fan of both the original and the second, and her creation came out of a written Role-Play with a close friend. Her clothing is basically Ezio's, so if you look up "Ezio" in images on the net, that would go a long ways into knowing what Elanna looks like attire-wise. She also has the same weapons and abilities; if a bit more powerful because of her demon blood.

Which is why Elanna has a slim and somewhat lanky appearance, she's not overly curvy or busty, but still attractive nonetheless. For my own amusement, her song is Lonely Soul by UNKLE.

Now please enjoy the first chapter. This world is set in 'medieval' fantasy with magic and all the things you'd expect with said genre. 

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Elanna had reached the merchant city - Mizad - a day ago, and had spent a good amount of that time simply enjoying the place. By enjoying - for her - that meant hustling some merchants out of their money and winning some bar fights. Never being obvious as the one who started them, and being so subtle that when she ended the fight, she got rewarded for "bringing the peace" - so delightfully easy. She smirked to herself from her corner seat, settled in a shady tavern as girls danced on a small stage in the far corner. Some were playing instruments, and their costumes were beautiful; colorful with plunging necklines and slit up the sides. Elfin women were quite the wonder.

She caught the eye of one, and a smirk curled her lips as the young elf tensed briefly. She was scared; but managed to snap herself out of it, continuing with her dance like the rest of those on the stage.

Elanna felt a low, purring growl thrum deep in her chest; her lips curled into a predatory grin like a panther that had scented the blood of an injured doe.

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Mirali had good reason to be afraid. She felt herself lucky to be alive; she was thankful the hybrid next to her had fallen asleep. The pale assassin was a half-breed, demon blood ran through her veins and it had been obvious soon into their 'passions' when Elanna's eyes were glowing blood red.

The blonde elf peered down on the sleeping half-blood, narrowing her eyes and curling her delicate fingers into the bed sheets. If she had realized before what the pale woman was she would have never allowed it; certainly Elanna would've been killed on sight. Demon's were scum, they were hated profusely in every land.

Pale skin and a slim frame make for a somewhat lanky appearance due to her height; several thin scars marked her body. The first went from her left shoulder, over her back down to her right hip. The second was just across her left forearm. The third was puncture scar on her upper abdomen. The fourth was a thin cut over her right eye that curved down over her cheek and ended at her jaw. Her face was slender, and would be quite pleasant to look at if it wasn't so cold. Eyes of ice blue were hidden beneath her closed eyelids, and her shoulder length hair was strewn about in silken, blue-black tresses.

Mirali scowled deeply and took her chance, she slipped out of the bed and got dressed silently. Reaching down she picked up the money pouch from Elanna's discarded belt.

Whilst undressing the half demon she had noticed a flash of metal every now and then. Blades most likely. Mirali narrowed her gaze and reached down, curling her fingers around the handle of one such dagger, pulling it out soundlessly from its well maintained sheath. 'Demons don't deserve to live...' she thought with malice.

She blinked as she felt something rustle in her hair. Reaching up, her fingers brushed over the item threaded into her blond tresses and pulled it out. She was confused as she saw it; it was a white feather.

Mirali shivered in fear as she felt cool breath wash over her neck.

"Always so quick to judge..." the voice was somber, a deep set tone of pain lacing itself over every syllable. Then she felt it, a slender, straight blade sliding into her lower back just as an alabaster arm wrapped itself tightly around her shoulders. 

Elanna bowed her head, pressing her lips to the dying elf's neck. She finally went limp in her arms and she let go, stepping over the body to dress.

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Things seemed to be going unusually slow lately. No one had approached her for her services in the last few weeks; it was making Elanna restless. She usually didn't do stupid things like that; what was she really expecting? That whatever helpless little sheep she decided to prey on would take pity on such a loveless creature as she? Some tiny voice at the back of her mind cried out and sobbed for mercy.

To be despised and hated by all the world was no desirable fate...

Elanna wrinkled her nose in disgust; such petty creatures surrounded her. They all looked upon her as a monster as soon as they realized what she was. Ironic that she moved among them like a part of the crowd yet felt so utterly removed from their mix of societies; walking down the city street on a busy market day.

If only these every day people knew what "beast" was walking by them.

She could probably kill every last one of them once the taste of blood reached her lips.

Then the sound of distress reached her ears, normally such things were beneath her; she wasn't a hero of any kind. There was no sense of chivalry, or nobility that tried to shine through. She was callous and savage through and through. But maybe that was the world's fault, for pressing such a terrible outlook on her since the day she was born. Monster. Brute. Savage. Worthless. Untrustworthy. Heartless. Demon.

Elanna frowned and stopped in the middle of the street, her sensitive hearing telling her that the troubled woman was down a tiny alley way off the right side. She turned and gently brushed by people until she came to the entrance.

The alley was dark and damp, last nights heavy rain leaving it smelling moldy. Above the noise of market goers and merchants, no one could hear the "damsel in distress". Elanna moved through the narrow alley, and came to a corner. Poking her head around she saw two noblemen trying to haul away a struggling young woman.

She was a delicate looking thing, her dark red tresses swinging about as she tried to get free. She reminded the half-demon of a well crafted doll, innocent beauty.

Elanna narrowed her eyes, contemplating if she should save her or not. It was an extremely rare occurrence for her to do anything 'good' - because it got her nothing but a death threat in return.

"Let go of me!" the girl shrieked.

The two men looked up as they heard the splash of a boot thudding into a puddle. But neither had time to react as Elanna slammed the palm of her hands into their necks. Her hidden blades slide out and stabbed into their throats, instantly slicing open the jugular. They fell back, blood spilling down and spraying erratically between the ebbing pumps of their hearts.

The girl fell down as they let go of her, her momentum from struggling the cause; she quickly looked up, her blue eyes locking with Elanna's red ones as the assassin stared down at her from the darkness of her hood.

Elanna was silent, and didn't move a muscle, her bloodied blades slide back as the mechanism reset with the twitch of a finger. She was waiting for the other to react. Would she be like the rest, or would she actually be thankful?

The Assassin



This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone alive or dead is not intended. Please do not recopy or re post. This story contains bondage, whipping, and some mild torture. If you oppose this type of behavior, please do not read it. If you enjoy said acts, then enjoy. :) 

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My life is very simple. Clients want someone dead, they pay me, I make the person dead. I would like to tell you I have a code of honor. I would like to tell you I don't kill women or children, but I am not a liar. I have killed women and would have no moral problem with killing a child. The subject has never come up. 

My work is done through a broker. We have never met and we never will. I get all my information through an encrypted website. I have the best electronic countermeasures in place to insure that my connection to this website cannot be traced. I check this site daily and get the information on targets as they become available. When I am working my life moves smoothly. It is the down time that is maddening. I could pass for any average forty year old man. I try to dress, act, and do everything in a completely nondescript manner. I am just a ghost in a crowd. 

I have a loft apartment in the industrial part of town. I paid cash for it via a false identity and none of it can be traced to me on paper. The loft is divided into two parts. The outside area is the part that anyone who visits me would see. The only visitors I have had in years are call girls. I get them via an agency known for its discretion and for supplying women to men with tastes that normal girls would not be able satisfy. 

The inner area of my space is where I really live. The outer part is simply a shell. A front if you will. I don't even sleep in the bed that is in the front part of the loft. I only fuck in it. The shower in the bathroom in the front is only used by the whores after I have used them. The inner area has everything I need. A bed that I use for sleeping is off in the corner. This area is completely open save for the range area. I have an enclosed range that is completely sound proofed. You could set off a nuke in that area and no one would hear the band. Beside the range is the armory where I store all of my weapons. Everything you could ever need for any situation is here. Next to the armory is my dojo area. I use this area to work out and stay in shape. I have studied martial arts of all kind as a younger man and I use this area to practice and stay in tune. There is a kitchen area that is on the back of fake apartment out front. I have a full bathroom with a dry sauna and an area where I have a TV and my computer for keeping up on the information I need to do my job effectively.

My routine is like a well working clock. I am up at six am every day. I work out on the weights, work out in the dojo, and then I shower and eat breakfast. Food for me is fuel. I have a nutritionist who laid out a diet for me years ago that I have never deviated from. It puts nothing but healthy and well balanced nutrition into my system. I have hundreds of thousands of dollars in the weapons I use to kill. However, my body and my mind are the true weapons. I treat them as such. 

Unless I have a job to do, I see a whore from The Emporium every Friday. For years I tried to just abstain but the urges for sex where distracting me from my job. Through my broker I found The Emporium. They are very expensive but the money is well spent. The girls come here knowing what will happen and know they will be well paid and well tipped for it. They don't ask questions and they don't cause problems. 

I am a sexual dominant and a sexual sadist. I need to be in charge and the woman needs to feel pain for me to truly get off. It is very hard to find a person like this if you are the average Joe going to bars and trying to meet women in the laundromat. It can happen but it is rare and it is risky. Whores come to be abused and get paid. They don't talk. If you work at The Emporium and you talk, you might get a visit from me in a completely different capacity. You don't want that. 

It is Friday night and I am sitting in the outer space of my loft. It is like being in another person's home. It is a facade in every way. I even keep the kitchen stocked to look like I live there. To the casual observer it is a very nicely appointed one bedroom apartment. The bedroom is not normal though. The bed is a play thing. It has been designed for one purpose: to bind and abuse a woman. When I am not entertaining it appears to be a normal king sized bed. It is set up to where I can attach rails to it to make it a twisted version of a canopy bed. There are d-rings all over the rails, overhead and on the head board and foot board. It gives me the flexibility to bind a woman in many different ways.

It takes me about an hour to assemble the bed and get it ready. The girl will be here at eight pm sharp so at seven I start getting things ready. I dress in black slacks, a blood red silk shirt, a black tie, and a pair of black dress shoes. I am very adept at disguises. I have one that I use when the women are here. I keep my head shaved so I can attach wigs that look very realistic. My face is clean shaven for the same reason. I can wear many different beards to change my appearance. I have every shade of eye color available via contact lenses. I am a virtual chameleon.

For the girls I wear a black wig that comes straight back with hair gel for a slicked back appearance. My eyes are a cold steel blue naturally. For this get up they get a dark hazel. A black goatee completes the look. My agreement with The Emporium is very specific. The girls know when they come here what is expected of them and what they are to do. They are to come to the door come straight in without knocking. There is a coat rack in the corner of the living room area. They are to be dressed in a trench coat. Under the trench coat is to be white lingerie complete with garters and high heels. As she walks in the door she is to kneel before me in a very specific pose. Ass back on the balls of her feet, hands on her knees palms up. Back arched slightly to push her breasts out for me to inspect. Her legs are to be parted as far as she can. Our eyes are not to meet without permission. There is no touching me without permission. She is to do exactly what she is told to do. There is no safe word here. She knows everything that I will do to her and if she could not withstand it she would not be here. 

It is ten minutes before eight and I am sitting in my leather chair. I have a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar burning in the other. It has been two weeks since I have a had a whore. I had business last week and missed my appointment. I never deviate. If I have work, I wait another week. I have only waited two weeks once. The girl I got the following week got an extra-large tip because she really earned it. 

At precisely eight o'clock the door opens. My tastes in women are very simple. I like them petite. Build is not important. I like them with large tits or small. I can work with either. Petite is the only thing I stress. The vision of a woman that walks in my door sends shivers up my back. She is five feet tall with red hair. One thing I specify is that I don't like them to be made up heavily. Some black eye liner and some light red lipstick is enough. Her hair is cropped in a short bob style. They have to have some hair, enough for me to wrap my hands up in. Her face almost takes my breath away. She is lovely, they are all lovely. That is not the breath taking part. Her face brings back a memory from my past that causes my heart to skip a little bit. She could be Kira's twin.

I was only eight years old the first time I saw Kira. Her family moved in to the house beside where my family lived in the old city I was raised in. Even at the age of eight I was deeply in love with Kira. She was angelic. Her face was perfect. She had skin that was the palest of pales. As a kid she she was all freckles. Her face was a dot to dot puzzle of the things. She got teased for her freckles but I always thought they were cute. We became fast friends. But as we got older though something changed in her. Around the age of thirteen she began to withdraw and become distant. I could not figure out what the problem was. As we got older into our teen years she started to become someone I didn't know. She experimented with drugs and became very promiscuous. Her reputation was that if you wanted your dick sucked or if you wanted fucked, go see Kira. She couldn't say no. At this age I was very introverted. Kira had been the only person I truly every talked to. Now I could not even talk to her. My father was a mean drunk. I became his favorite target in my teen years. I got tough fast. 

I remember well the summer of my sixteenth year. It was a hot miserable summer, the kind of weather that flares the tempers of even calm people. I was laying in my bed sweating like a dog when I heard a tap on the window. Getting out of my bed I was surprised to see Kira outside of my window. I went to the window and threw up the sash. She had clearly been crying and was was bleeding out of her nose. I reached down and helped her up into the window. Without saying anything she hugged me deeply and began sobbing. I could tell that she really didn't want to talk right now so I simply held her to me as she cried deeply. She must have cried for ten minutes before she raised her head from my chest to speak. 

"I need your help Joseph. I am in hell and I need your help to get out." Without even a thought I replied.

"I will help you in any way I can Kira. Just tell me what is wrong."

Through sobs and more crying I finally found out what had turned my loving friend into the neighborhood whore. She had been raped early and often by her father. And to make matters worse on this night he told her that she was not even his. Her mother had cheated on him with someone at work and she was his daughter. Her mother had long since passed away. He told her the only reason he had kept her around was so he could make her life hell. 

I was shocked. I had no idea anything like this could happen in my little corner of the world. I told Kira that I knew exactly what to do. We would wake my father up and he would help us. To my surprise this only caused Kira to sob harder. I will never forget when she looked up at me through those tearful eyes to tell me that my father had taken his turn with her while her dad had held her down. A rage that I could never imagine washed over me like a wave. I told Kira to stay put. I was going to deal with my father. 

I was not a big kid. I was not into sports and much more preferred to stay in my room reading. I assumed in my youthful ignorance that my rage would carry me through. I was wrong. I woke my father up and confronted him about Kira. He simply laughed at me and called me a fool. Why would I want to defend a worthless whore?

The last thing I remember is attacking him. I woke up hours later in my bed with a black eye for my efforts. He had knocked me out and beat me while I was out. Kira was nowhere to be seen. As I got up from the room I could hear sirens. Looking out my bedroom window I could see that the police and the ambulance was at Kira's house. I jumped out and put my clothes on to go see what was going on. As I got over to the house I could see them bringing out a body bag. Her piece of shit father was talking to the cops. I could ever hear them saying that Kira had slit her wrists in the bath tub and bled to death. He was playing it up like he could never know what would cause her to do such things. 

Of course no one took the word of the shy dorky neighbor who everyone knew had a crush on the girl. Her father and my father got away with it all. I ran away the next day and never returned. I went to work for a mob guy where I learned how much people truly hurt each other. I learned to hurt people myself. I became an enforcer for the mob guys. I worked hard to turn my body into a weapon. I studied all kinds of firearms. I became proficient with edged weapons. I took Akido and Crav Maga. I became simply know as Machine. My name no longer had any meaning to me. I had various aliases that I used as I needed them. 

Eventually the mob got busted and I went out on my own. I had a lot of contacts and got set up with the broker through a mob guy I knew I could trust; he was already in prison and wasn't ratting anyone out.

A noise from the girl in the room smacks me back to reality. As she was told to do she was now spinning in front of me so I could check out the goods. She was petite and had very small breasts. Her ass was very well defined and looked amazing in the lacy white panties. As she spun I took in the sight. It was more like a lion looking at a gazelle then a man looking at a woman. As she slowly spun something interesting happened. Even though they knew what they were getting into, by this time most of the whores were scared, as I sat there looking at them like a buffet, fear would creep into their eyes. However, with this one something different happened. She seemed flushed in the face and her nipples were visibly erect. Though averting her gaze I could see no fear in her eyes. It was more like wonderment. I really think she was getting aroused.

A nod took her from the modeling to the submission pose. I had moved all of the furniture to the edges of the room except for the coffee table. At a glance from most people the coffee table was normal. Very heavy made but normal. It was heavy made for a very important reason. It is a stage. With an agile grace she climbed onto the block of wood and presented her self to me. Standing up I got close to inspect her. This one is different for sure. I could her breathing coming fast and shallow. I could see her nipples straining through her lacy bra. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my Damascus steel dagger and with a very swift and practiced hand I cut the straps on her bra. This was new. She was not expecting this. As the cold edge of the blade came in contact with her skin, she gasped. But she never moved. Reaching a hold of it with my left hand and slicing it cleanly with my right hand, I removed the garment completely and tossed it to the corner. 

Now in view her nipples were amazing. They are at least a half-inch long and painfully erect. Walking slowly around like I was looking over a purchase, I knew it was going to be a very long night for her. She was going to earn every cent she got tonight.  

"Tell me your name please."

"It is Elektra sir."

Normally hearing an obvious working name would not bother me at all. However tonight for some reason it went through me like a shot.

"I don't want your whore working name, tell me your real name now!"

This shocked her and she looked up at me. My eyes were alive with fire. She saw that and bit her lip. Averting her eyes back down to the floor she gasped again.

"My name is Stacey sir."

"Thank you Stacey. This is how this is going to work tonight. When I ask you a question you will tell me the truth. You know what you are getting into by coming here, so you know how I am. Tonight will be different though. If you lie to me, I am going to punish you for real. Do you understand that Stacey? Do you get what I mean?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"If you want to leave you can leave now. I will see that you are paid and you will still get a very generous tip for your time. However, if you stay you will do what I say when I say. I will be in charge completely. Not complying with my demands will earn you more punishment. There is no turning back once you agree to stay. I won't do anything to permanently hurt you Stacey, but you will receive pain. I want you to take a couple minutes to think about it. I will return in a few minutes."

Without another word I left the room. Going into the kitchen I opened up a bottle of water and gulped some down. What the fuck was I doing. I was breaking my routine. Why the hell did I ask her what her real name was? I had to gather my senses and calm down. The damage was already done. More than likely I was misreading her body and she would be scared shitless and leave. I was kind of hoping that she would. I calmed myself and went back into the living room.

Stacey was still in the inspection pose with her eyes on the floor. She had not moved. I could see that her breathing was still coming in short and deep. Her nipples had not shrunk at all. I calmly walked into the room and took a seat in my leather chair. I reached over and took a deep draw from the glass of scotch and re lit my cigar. 

"So Stacey, what is it going to be? Would you like to leave and get paid, or do you want to stay? You do this of your own free will."

"I want to stay sir, please let me stay."

"You understand the deal right? You know what you are getting into?"

"Yes sir please, I need to be abused. I am so aroused right now I will do anything for you please."

I am surprised that she has agreed to stay. She is getting paid whether she stays or not and that can only mean that she truly wants and needs to be abused like a whore. I am torn. Part of me is glad she is staying because I sincerely want to see her splayed and abused on my bed. But, another part of me is telling me to send her away. With the likeness to Kira, it is too close to my feelings. I am weak though and the common sense part of me loses the battle.

Standing up I walk into the other room and go to the closet of tools. Out of the closet I retrieve a collar with matching wrist and leg cuffs. As I return to the room I see she has not moved. She has held this pose for around twenty minutes or more. Her legs must be aching. It goes to show me that she is truly submitting to me. 

"Please stand up and come over here."

I can tell by how she is walking that her legs need stretched. The walk from the table to my chair should do it nicely for her.

"Kneel down here for me now Stacey."

She complies, she has no choice but to do what she is told. I reach down and lock the collar and cuffs in place. I put my finger under her chin and pull her to a standing position. She knew instinctually what my finger on her chin meant. She was to follow me. 

I lead her into the room where my bed is. Again there was an audible gasp as she saw the bed. I have to admit it is very imposing to see. I positioned her on the bed on her back. Attached to the d rings on the bed were some chains. I went about fastening her hand and leg cuffs in to the links to the chains. This puts her into a mild spread eagle position. Not too severe yet. I reach over on the side table and retrieve a blindfold that I have ready. As I lean forward to put the blindfold in place, she leans her head up allowing me access to her head easily.

"I am going to do things to you Stacey that no one has probably done. But I will not hurt you. I may cause your body come discomfort and possibly even some pain. But I will do nothing to you that causes any real damage. Do you understand and trust me Stacey?"

"Yes sir. I understand and I completely trust you. I don't know why sir, but I would follow you anywhere and let you do whatever you wanted to me sir."

With the blindfold in place she can't see what I am doing. She has no idea what I am up to at all. So whatever I do will be a surprise to her. 

Walking to the tool closet I select my first weapon for the assault on her senses. I will start light and build up to the harder things. Out of the closet I pull two things. On my right hand I attach a massage mitt. It is basically a glove made from a very fury fuzzy blanket. It brings all the nerves in the skin alive as it touches. On the left hand is a glove with small steel spikes on it. It is not sharp enough or big enough to hurt the skin. It just raises the nerves in a totally different way. 




The Assassin



As I walk over to Stacey, I take the mitt with the fuzzy cloth on it and start at her feet. The softness of the cloth is at first very sensual, very soothing. I work it around her toes causing her to giggle slightly. Slowly I work up her legs. Moving to one knee and then switching to the other. As I get to her thighs I begin working with the spiked mitt on her legs. Slowly these sensations can cause sensory overload, especially once I focus on my target. I make my way to her pussy. By now she is very aroused. Her lips are engorged with blood and very puffed out. Her clitoris is beginning to peek out from under her hood. The soft mitt goes first to her pussy. Rubbing all around with a light almost wisp of a touch. This elicits a soft moan from her. 

After several seconds her breathing begins to come very rapid and her hips are starting a slight rotation. I can see the moisture forming on her lips. Her pussy is opening like a blossoming flower. With abruptness I switch to the spiked mitt. The response is immediate and satisfying to me. Her gasp is like thunder it is so loud. Immediately there is a difference in her breathing. She is aroused but it is tinged with fear. 

As the spikes drag across her peaking clit you can hear her clenching her teeth. She is trying to close her legs. The chains only allow her limited movement. I drag the spiked mitt from her puss up her torso to her mouth.

"Stick out your tongue Stacey."

She complies.

"Can you taste yourself? Do you see how aroused you are at being tied up like this? It is only going to get worse. I am going to treat you like a whore and you are going to love it. I am going to fuck every hole you have and you will beg for more. I am going to cum on your face and in your ass. But I will not cum in your pussy. That is what I would do to someone who I cared for. You are a piece of meat, a tool for me to utilize to get off, nothing more."

Her eyes are rolled back in her head and she is moaning more loudly now than she was when I was manipulating her pussy. This is what she wants to hear, what she needs to hear. She needs to be treated like a whore.

Leaving her to her thoughts for a moment I get off the bed and strip. My own arousal is very evident. My cock is fully erect slapped hard against my stomach. It stands at a full eight inches and is over two inches thick. The head is very big, slightly thicker than the girth of the shaft. I am amazed at how hard it is. It is painfully erect.

Climbing back on to the bed I position myself straddling her chest, I reach behind her head and position a pillow under her head. This brings her chin down towards her chest. 

"Open your mouth now Stacey. I am going to feed you my cock. You will take it all. If you gag there will be repercussions."

Reaching over to the side table I get a riding crop ready. Of course she is going to gag. She has no prayer of not gagging. 

With the crop in hand I lay the head of my cock onto her lips. Just to tease her a bit. Instincts take over and her tongue slithers out to lick the head. I allow her this for my pleasure. She is very good with her tongue. She works it around the sensitive glands and even dips the tip of her tongue into the hole at the end. This coaxes some precum out of the hole which she laps up happily.

Slowly I start feeding her inches of my cock. At about half way she makes a guttural moan around my cock. A smile forms on my lips. Most of the whores make it about six inches before they start to gag. As I pass the three quarters mark I begin to worry. She shows no sign of gagging yet. I hold it at that mark and allow her to feel the girth of it. She is rotating her hips and moaning very loudly. She is a very skilled cock sucker. She has had cocks this far in her throat before. 

The last couple inches are not gentle. With force they are shoved down her throat until her nose hits my pubic bone. I can feel her throat working on the cock. I can also feel her holding back her gag reflex. My dick is not going anywhere and the inevitable happens. She begins to gag around my mass. I allow her to suffer some long ten seconds or so then I withdraw to allow her to breathe.

"You did very well whore."

"Thank you sir, I try to be pleasing."

"You did gag though didn't you slut?"

"Yes sir, I am sorry your cock is just too big for my mouth sir."

Though she is blindfolded, you can almost feel the tears welling up in her eyes. I reach up and remove the blindfold. I am right, her eyes are pooled up and beginning to leak down her face. I reach down with my finger and catch one of her tears. Making sure that she sees me I bring my finger to my mouth and lick her tear off of it. 

"It is ok Stacey. I will teach you to obey. You will receive the discipline you so terribly need."

"Thank you sir."

There is no fronting now. She is crying. I reach up and disconnect the chains from her hands. Reaching down I do the same for her feet. Beside the bed is a wedge shaped cushion. I grab it and turn her over to her stomach. Pulling up on her hips I position the pillow under her hips. Now the chains are reconnected but in a different manner. Her hands are threaded under the cushion to where they pull them down towards the bottom of the bed. Her ankles are refastened in the bottom chains with a little more slack. A new chain with a soft lined loop fastens to her knees pulling her knees up towards the head of the bed. The result is a twisted version of doggy style that leaves her ass completely at my mercy. The way she is positioned opens up her pussy totally. It is very uncomfortable but puts me in charge of her ass and pussy one hundred percent.

"Now Stacey, I want you to count the lashes and thank me for each one. Do you understand me whore?"

"Yes sir."

She is whimpering now. Her voice is a strange concoction of fear and lust. She needs this but that does not change the fact that it scares her to receive it.

Grabbing the riding crop I raise it over my head. As it descends towards her ass there is a soft swoosh as it glides gently through the air. The sound is almost graceful, peaceful in a way. The noise made when the leather flap hits her ass could not be any more different. The crack resonates throughout the room, filling the whole space up with a sharp snap almost as if someone has fired a gun in the room.

Immediately her ass has a crimson square pop up. It was not a gently swat by any means.

"One sir, thank you." You can hear the tears in her eyes. She is sobbing lightly. 

Again like a missile the crop finds her other ass cheek the response is the same. A red angry mark appears on her beautiful white skin. 

"Two sir, thank you." The sobs are getting louder. I lean down and whisper in her ear.

"I would lie if I told you that I was not enjoying this. But, you need this don't you? You need someone to guide you, to punish you? Tell me the truth!"

"No sir, I don't need this. I do not need it!"

She has will power. That will only make breaking it that much more pleasurable. The blows continue one after the other. With precision I hit the same spot over and over, alternating between her ass cheeks till they are both fiery red. Each blow is counted and thanked as she is told. We are now up to ten total blows. That is five very hard shots to the same area of each ass cheek.

"I am not stopping until you beg me. Until you tell me how much you need this. Until you tell me that you are a whore who needs the guidance of a firm hand to point you in the right direction."

She starts to speak but I snuff it out with very rapid blows to her ass. I am not even giving her a chance to count now. I loose count myself of how many shots land before she screams out.

"Oh please stop sir. I admit it. I need this, I need you. I need you to guide me and discipline me. Please sir I cant take anymore! Please, I beg of you stop!"

Coming back to earth I see the damage I have done. Each ass cheek has two very large welts on them, seeing them drives me further to blissful sexual rage. Positioning myself behind her I enter her pussy in one smooth motion. With a very deafening gasp she raises her head. I give her pussy a time to adapt to my cock. I am truly surprised how tight her pussy is. She is tiny but she accommodates my mass very well. 

Slowly I pull out until just the head remains in her.

"Tell me Stacey, how does my cock feel?"

"It is so huge sir. It is like a hot poker in me. I can feel the heat radiating from it sir."

"Tell me what you need whore. Tell me what you want more than anything in the world right now."

"Oh my god sir. Please I need you to fuck me. Use me for your pleasure. Use my pussy, use my ass, use my whole being to please you sir. I need this, I want this more than breath itself sir."

A smile creeps to my face. This is what I needed to hear. This is what I need more than breath. I needed her spirit broke. I needed her will gone. Slowly, deliberately, I inch my cock back in her till it is buried to the hilt once again. Leaning down I softly kiss the back of her neck. Holding my cock deep in her I trace my tongue across her collar bone to her shoulder. As she begins to coo and moan from the lavishing of my tongue, I bite her savagely on the shoulder. As a gasp of surprise comes from her mouth, I begin to fuck her with earnest. 

She is nothing more than a hole, a warm wet place for my cock to get pleasure. With guttural animal like sound I begin to hammer into her, pummeling her pussy with viscous thrusts and hunches. The sounds that we are making are barely human. It is a symphony of groans, grunts and screams that come up from the bowels of us, recesses of our minds, bodies and souls that are primitive. 

Sweat pours from our bodies as I continue to have my way with her body. Reaching under her I scoop up the copious amounts of juice that are running out of her body. Using my fingers I smear them all over her light brown rosebud. Slowing my thrusts I start to work one finger into her asshole. This causes her to push up against the restraints. She makes a noise not unlike a feral cat, growling her lust. 

"Are you close to cumming Stacey?"

"Yes sir I am so close. Please sir, may I cum sir, I need to so badly."

"You may only cum once my cock is fully buried in your bowels Stacey, is that clear?"

"I don't think I can do it sir. I don't think you can get it in my ass. I have never had a cock in my ass before sir, just fingers and tongues, never a cock. I fear you will split me in half sir."

"Stacey, do you trust me?"

"Oh my god yes sir, more than I have ever trusted anyone sir."

"Then I need you to listen and follow my instructions."

With an audible plop I pull my cock from her pussy. It gapes open and slowly closes looking like it has been abused, and it has. Slowly I work my finger around in her ass. Her hips are dancing all over and she is uttering nonsense.

"Ok Stacey, now I am going to put two more fingers in your ass. I want you to relax and don't fight me. As I push them into you I want you to try to push them out. As if you were trying to use the bathroom. Follow my instructions and this will work. Are you ready?"

"Yes sir I am ready."

As I push my other two fingers in she does as I told her. As she tries to push out it actually opens the muscles of her anus and allow my fingers entry. Slowly all three fingers are buried in her ass.

"Oh fuck, Oh fuck, I can't believe how easy they went in and how wonderful it feels sir."

Slowly I start fucking her ass with my fingers. Soon she is meeting every thrust. Reaching to the side table I gather a scoop of lube in my other hand. The fingers went in ok but I think we are going to need some help for my cock. Pulling out my fingers elicits a dissatisfied grunt from her. I work the lube into her ass which is gaped slightly. 

I reposition myself behind her and use my hands to open her cheeks. It almost seems impossible that the head of my cock will go into such a tiny tight little bud of an opening. I position the head right at the opening to where it is just laying there. I can feel her tensing up.

"Relax and breathe. I want you to do just the same thing as you did before. As I push in you try to push it out. Are you ready Stacey?"

"Yes sir, I am afraid sir."

"Don't be afraid just do what I told you to. I will go slowly I don't wish to hurt you. I promise once the discomfort is gone you will enjoy it."

I push slowly on her the gasket of her ass. As the head starts to work in she does her part and pushes out. With a pop the head clears her sphincter muscle. My cock head is in her ass. She is sweating profusely and her skin is clammy. She is breathing rapidly.

"Slow your breathing and calm down. Relax and let your body adjust to my dick."

"Yes sir."

She does as told and in a matter of seconds the vice like grip on my cock has loosened some. I slowly begin to feed her ass my steel hard dick. Her breathing is now very controlled and she is pushing out like I told her to. It is taking effort but she is doing great. I reach the halfway point and stop. Leaning down I whisper in her ear.

"Good girl, you are doing very good Stacey. You now have half of my cock in your ass."

Reaching beneath her I remove the restraint of one of her hands. 

"Now as a reward once my cock starts to actually fuck your ass, you may touch yourself. Only when you feel my cum explode in your ass may you cum yourself. Do you understand me Stacey?"

"Yes sir,thank you sir."

Slowly I withdraw the four inches of cock,to where just the head is stuck in her ass. Feeding her inch by inch of cock, I work all eight inches deep in her bowels. 

It feels as if my dick is sheathed in a hot almost jungle like sheath. The heat being given off by our bodies is immense. As I bury it to the hilt I give her a few seconds to adjust. She is learning. I can hear her controlling her breathing. She looks over her shoulder at me. Her face is pure lust, raw animal like lust that borders on rage. She looks me in the eyes and nods. Letting me know she is ready.

Starting out slowly I begin to piston into her ass. I want to take my time. I am close to orgasm and want to make it last as long as I can. Her ass feels amazing. It is the tightest warmest place I have ever been. Slowly I build up a head of steam. My peek is coming upon me quickly. She can sense it. She can feel it.

"Tell me how that feels Stacey."

"It is amazing sir. I can feel every vein. Every pulse your cock makes in my ass. I can feel every inch moving in and out of my ass sir. It feels better than anything I have ever experienced sir. Please sir, fill my ass up with your cum. I want to feel your cock explode deep in my bowels sir. Please give me this honor. Let me be your whore and receive your seed in my ass."

Her words are too much. To hear her begging me to release my cum in her ass puts me over the edge. With a maddening slow purposeful push, I begin my climax.

"Now Stacey, get yourself off. I want to feel you cum. I want to feel your ass clamp down on my cock as I blow my load deep in your bowels."

With a slow building scream I explode. I feel rope after rope of thick white cum let loose into her. As I start to shoot she goes over the edge. Her fingers are working her clit like she is possessed. Our screams meld into one. Like a war cry we both go off. For what seems like an eternity we are held at blissful climax. 

Slowly I come down. I am covered in sweat from head to toe. She is also soaked in her own essence. Leaning down I kiss her shoulder. She turns her mouth to me and I engulf her lips. She is half crying half shuddering. Pulling away from her mouth I remove all the restraints. My now deflating cock slips from her ass. I can hear the juices running from her ass. I remove the pillow and pull her up to a sitting position. I lay down on the pillow and she immediately wraps herself into me. Her head rests on my chest and she begins to almost purr. 

Through all of this something amazing happens. We both fall asleep. Never in the years since I have been having whores come over from The Emporium has one of the girls slept here. I am not sure if it was because of exhaustion of that I felt so comfortable with Stacey, but it just felt right.

After sleeping for a few hours, I began to stir. Stacey was out like a light. I slip from under her and she remained snoring lightly. I get up and go into the bathroom. After relieving myself I begin to fill the tub with hot water. Adding a mixture of herbs I got from an Asian friend to the water. It is designed as a healing agent for the water. It will help Stacey's ass which must surely be tender. 

Slipping back into the bedroom, I am amazed again at how much she looks like Kira. Reaching down I brush a wisp of hair away from her face. This causes her to stir. She slowly opens her eyes and smiles at me. It is a strangely childlike smile. I reach down and gently kiss her on the lips. She kisses me back lightly. I am in way over my head and I know it. I have allowed myself a connection with this girl that I should not. Right now I don't care about that. 

I scoop her up out of the bed. As my hand brushes her ass she winces. 

"I am sure your cheeks are sore."

"Yes sir they hurt quite a bit."

"Don't worry, I am going to take care of that. Trust me."

The smile on her face tells me all I need to know. She trusts me completely. As we enter the bathroom I reach down and shut off the water. The tub is full and there is a white film on top of the water. The smell from the herbs is not great, to say the least. She curls her nose up at the smell.

"It smells bad but it heals very well. I want you to soak in that hot water while I prepare a salve for your backside. I will be back in shortly to bathe you."

I lower into the water. A gasping wince tells me that her ass hurts a lot. 

"Is the water too hot?"

"No sir it is fine. The herbs are stinging a bit."

"That is good. That means they are working."

I leave her to soak in the tub and go to get the things to make the salve. It only takes me a few minutes to crush the herbs and mix it up. I have used it extensively over the years to help heal the wounds I have received in missions.

Returning to the bathroom I see Stacey is zoned out in the bathtub. The hot water when mixed with the herbs creates the most relaxing setting you could imagine.

I reach over and grab a sponge and soap it up. She leans up and sits. I slowly clean her body all over. A satisfied sigh leaves her lips. 

"You could spoil a girl treating her like this you know?"

"I wish that were possible. But you can't stay here. You don't know me, you don't know what I am capable of, what I do."

"That does not matter to me. I know what you make me feel and how I make you feel."

"I am sorry. I would love to see you again but I can't promise you anything past that."

I finish washing her and tell her to stand up. I carefully dry her body. Paying certain attention to her very welted ass cheeks. She steps out onto the towel that I have laid on the floor. I finish drying her legs and feet and scoop her up once again. I carry her into the bedroom and lay her gently on the bed. Turning her onto her stomach I sit beside her. Slowly and gently I work the salve into the welts. A sharp intake of breath tells me it is tender. As gently as I can I work the salve into her skin.

"You can take the rest of that with you. Put it on a couple of time a day and in a few days it will be a lot better."

"Thank you."

As she gets up to get dressed I go to the wall safe behind a picture. I take out five thousand dollars and put it in an envelope. As I return to the bedroom she is finishing dressing and putting her things in her bag. I hold out the envelope to her.

"I don't want your money sir. If it's all the same to you I will just be leaving. Thank you for the salve and for taking good care of me. It was very nice."




The Assassin



"Please, take the money. I know you can use it and I have plenty. I am sorry I cannot be more for you than this. I truly am but you must believe me when I say it is for you own good."

"Ok, thank you sir. Do you really want to see me again?"

"Yes. If I don't have work I will see you Friday."

She smiles at me and reaches up on her tip toes to kiss me lightly on the cheek. With a spin she quickly walks out the door. 

My mind is a blur with thoughts. I should not even have her back here. I go through the secret door to my inner chambers. Into the den area I fix a large glass of scotch and light up an aptly named assassin cigar. For the first time in years I feel something. I feel lonely. It has never bothered me before being alone but as soon as Stacey left it crept in. I slowly enjoy the scotch as the cigar burns down. I lay the cigar into the ashtray and climb in bed. I have about three hours to sleep before the alarm goes off to start another day. I truly hope that I have something on the agenda for tomorrow because I am not sure I can stand to sit around here all day with my thoughts. I fear they will drive me mad.



The Assassin



He lays in the dark room on his bed watching his television waiting for the call he already knows will come. He thinks to himself about how ridiculous the movie is. They don't even portray the life of an assassin correctly. If he ever did the things the actors in the movies did he would already be dead. Not that he had never gotten injured or close to death. 

He runs his hand over the scar on his arm and then to the bullet wound on his chest and down to another on his stomach. The one on his chest is the closest he has ever been to death. It was the one that taught him to always wear his bullet proof vest.

It just barely missed his heart when it happened. The darkness still haunts him to this day. He turns his focus back to the movie just in time to see the main character do a matrix type move to avoid a bullet. He laughs to himself. That never works.

The moans from the next room over was penetrating through the sound of his movie. She didn't even sound like she was honestly enjoying herself. He wants to go to the next room and show him how to truly please a woman however he doesn't have the time because it is now his phone decides to finally ring.

He lifts the phone to his ear. "hello." he says into the phone. He never says his name just in case it is not someone who he wishes to know it is him. 

His boss's voice answers back. "I have a new job for you. You may not like this one but I know you are the only one I trust to get it done but in return you will get fifty grand." 

The assassin sighs into the phone. "so what's the catch? For that price I either know it will be difficult or that I wont like who it is." The moans grow louder from the room next door making the assassin hard. He tries to concentrate on the conversation with his boss.

The boss doesn't address his question directly but the next words out of his mouth told him all he needed to know. "Her name is Marissa Bennett."

He cuts his boss off, "you know I don't do women. We have women working for us to do those. Why would you bring this to me and not to one of them?"

"They do not have the skills they will need for the job as I said before you are the only one I trust to do it. So will you or wont you?" the boss has an edge in his voice. The edge that makes everyone shake in fear. Everyone but him of course. He is not afraid of the boss. Nothing scares him. He knows he is a monster, a killing machine, that's all that matters anymore.

"Fine I'll do the job but I'm not happy about it." the boss continues to go into the details he will need to know for the job and then they hang up. 

He gets up out of his bed and pulls a black tank top over his bare muscled chest. He pulls the bullet proof vest over the tank top. He pulls on a tight black shirt on and starts putting on all his weapons. He puts his knives in multiple place over his body. He has one on his ankle, the opposite thigh, on his waist and one on his ribcage. 

He loads the cartridges of the guns and puts them in place as well. The biggest slung over his shoulder and the hand gun on his hip. All that can be are equipped with silencers so he wont be heard as easily. He pulls on his shoes and ties them and leaves his house and goes into the garage.

He climbs into his car and backs out of the parking spot in the hotel parking lot. He pulls out on the rode and speeds off. He drives past the restaurant his boss told him about and parks behind the building on the other side of the street.

He climbs on a dumpster and jumps to grab the edge of the roof. He silently walks across the roof and gets down below the small wall. He pulls the rifle off his back and he feels his phone vibrate. He checks his phone to see his boss has sent him the picture of the woman.

He opens the message to see a slender blond with a face of an angel. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at her beautiful face. She looks perfect in every way. How could he kill this woman? He puts his phone away and grabs his rifle again. 

He looks down the barrel of the rifle and through the scope. He scans the crowds in the restaurant for her. His expert eyes sees her almost immediately. He tightens his finger on the trigger and then he sees her laugh. The laughter fills her face and brighten her eyes taking his breath away. 

He shuts his eyes and focuses on his breathing before opening them again and taking aim. Her graceful motions and beauty stop him from shooting. He puts his gun down unable to pull the trigger. He grabs his binoculars off his belt and finds her again. 

He sits there watching her and time seems to float away. Thirty minutes... and hour.... He sways as he watches her captured by her amazing beauty. She disappears into the back of the restaurant and he snaps out of his trance he fell into. He looks around embarrassed hoping no one has seen him.

He quickly leaves the roof and climbs back into his car trying to regain focus. He takes off his rifle and tosses it into the back seat along with the knife on his rib cage. He locks his car and walks across the street to the restaurant parking lot. The parking lot is packed with cars as he starts to search for hers. The car that matches the license plate number given to him by his boss was in the right side of the parking lot close to the restaurant. 

He quickly picks the lock and climbs into the backseat and waits. Shortly after he got comfortable he hears voices outside the car. The key s jingle as the door is unlocked and a blond woman climbs inside. He lays thee silently as she starts the car and drives into the night. 

There is a short drive before the car pulls into a garage and she shuts the engine off. Once he hears the garage door shut he takes the opportunity and grabs the knife from his thigh and holds it to her throat. She lets out a soft gasp of surprise. "please don't kill me," she begs the assassin, her voice shaking with fear.

Her voice was as beautiful as her face. It sounds more beautiful then anything he had ever heard. His grip on his knife loosens. She quickly grabs the knife from his hands and gets out of the car before he could stop her. He slaps himself mentally. He quickly climbs out of the car after her.

Instead of running she stands there in fear. Her face clearly said she had no idea what to do to save her own life. She still held the knife tightly in her hand like her life depends on it. The image of such a beautiful being holding a knife made the assassin hard with excitement. She looked so amazing with her graceful body clothed in an elegant dress holding a knife.

He quickly disarms her and the knife slides across the floor of the garage. The feel of her soft perfect skin against his rough scarred skin sent a throb to his dick. He didn't want to kill her he wanted to be inside her. He wanted to hear her beautiful voice moaning for him.

He pushes her up against the wall and grabs his knife from his waist and cuts a large slit in the front of her dress but does not cut her. He drops the knife to the floor and runs his hand inside her dress and up to her pussy. It excites him when he realizes she is wearing no panties. He rubs his rough fingers across her clit making her let out a soft moan even through her fear. 

She looks surprised to enjoy his hand on her even through the fear. He pushes a finger inside her tight wet pussy as he earns another moan from her. He digs his finger deep inside her pushing into her so much he starts to lift her off the floor.

He takes his finger out of her and picks her up carrying her to the door. He opens the door and takes her to the couch. He gets on top of her and pins her down with his body and continues to finger her pussy. Her mouth open and lets out more moans of pleasure.

The lust builds inside him as he watches her body heave in pleasure. It was no longer clear if it was the fear or the pleasure that keeps her where she is. He pushes another finger into her tight pussy. Her pleasure doubles as he works his two fingers inside of her.

Sweat starts to glisten her body as she moans. He then slides his fingers back out and reaches down to the knife in his ankle. He brings the knife to between her breasts and slices it down careful to cut the dress but not her skin.

Her body is perfect. Every curve invites him in. He starts to wonder what she could have done to have the hit ordered on her. He pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his bullet proof vest. He watches her lay there as he removes the tank top and lays the holds for the knives and his hand gun at the end of the couch.

He kicks off his shoes and slide his pants off his legs and stands nude and unprotected in front of her. He climbs on top of her with her shredded dress still under her. He grabs his erect cock and massages himself slowly with his hand making him rock hard. 

He kisses her lips as she watches him in fear. She knows he is a killer. She can guess at what he has done and could do. He bites her long neck making another throb pulse through his dick. Even her scent draws him in even more.

He pushes the same two fingers back inside of her making her moan again. He feels her hand on his cock. She massages his cock up and down the shaft. He lets a moan out as she goes to work obviously knowing what she's doing. As he goes deeper into her pussy her back arches and her breasts push into his chest. Her hips begin to rock back and forth with the movement of his hand in her pussy.

The smell of her juices start to intoxicate him. The sweet scent is so inviting. He pushes his fingers in deep and curves the expertly to hit her spot. She moans loudly as she cums onto his hand making her scent even stronger sending another throb to his cock.

He places the head of his throbbing cock to the entrance of her pussy that's soaked in cum. His cock was much more than she had ever taken. They both knew him going into her would stretch her pussy. His cock is extremely long but he knew she was going to take every bit of it into her pussy. Without any more warning he thrust into her hard.

She cries out in pain. Her sounds of pain were almost as beautiful as her voice. He pulls back out and thrusts back into her pussy deeper and harder than he had the first time. Another cry of pain escapes her but this time it was mixed with some pleasure. He continues to fuck her. She pushes her hips into him wanting more.

However hard he fucked her she still enjoyed it supplying his cock with plenty of juices to fuck her with even more force. Her moans grow louder as he continues to stretch her pussy to better accommodate him inside of her. With one loud scream of pleasure her pussy shoots juices onto his cock. Her body tenses up in an orgasm as she cums onto him. Once she is done cuming she tries to catch her breath. 

She digs her nails into his back as he continues to fuck her. She fit perfectly against his body and the softness of her skin was enough to drive him crazy alone. She kisses his neck as another orgasm begins to build. Her soft lips on his neck sends a shiver down his spine making him thrust into her completely for the first time. Her moan is one of overwhelming pain and pleasure. 

Her hips push into him instinctively, her body begging him for more. She grows louder as his cock pleases her pussy. He forces her to go through more orgasms until she is very nearly raw. He allows his load to explode in her pussy with a groan of his own. 

He stands up and looks at her in amazement. He cannot figure out what it is about her but he has to have her. The passion of the sex confuses him but he loves it all the same. He walks from the living room in search of her bedroom. 

He grabs a robe from her room and brings it back to where he left her on the couch just to find out that she was gone. He notices the knife that was on the floor is now gone. Laughing to himself he turns around to find Marissa holding it tight with the point towards him.

He stares at her with a soft look on his face, "Beautiful, you have two options. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you put the knife down and put on this robe. Then I will take you home with me and you will me mine and I will be yours. The hard way is you try to fight me and you end up dead." He chuckles to himself about the idea of her trying to fight him.

Her grip on the knife slackens slightly as she considers her options. She can accept him as a killer and let him fuck her and have amazing sex the rest of her life or her life ends now. She looks at him with hatred in her fierce eyes. "So basically either I'm dead or I will wish I could be dead?" 

"Sweetie, you will love the life I can give you. You wont want to be dead." He holds out a welcoming hand to her. She drops the knife on the floor and walks over to him taking his hand.

Her voice almost dripping in poisonous hate she replies, "I'm not your sweetie. I will never be your sweetie but I don't want to die today so I accept."

He hands her the robe and watches as she puts it on and ties the rope around her waist. They walk back to her car with him in the lead, collecting his clothes and weapons on the way. He climbs into the drivers seat as she walks around to the passenger side and slides gracefully into the car. 

The ride back to his vehicle was silent. At his car he wipes the vehicle clean of himself and they leave her car behind and take his car back to his hotel. Once they are inside he flips open his phone and calls his boss trying to think of how to explain it to him.

His boss picks up and asks, "Is the job done?" The assassin tries to explain what happened in a rush of words. The boss starts laughing and says, "I told you that you were the only one I could trust to do the job right." and he hangs up.



The Assassin



Annälisa could be described as a stereotypical Swedish beauty, with her stunning Nordic good looks, long blonde hair, soft blue eyes and that curvaceous body that promised everything. 

The trouble was that her looks were a problem in her line of work. She was too noticeable. The best assassin's were able to blend in with the background when they needed to, whereas her eye-catching beauty attracted attention wherever she went. 

She overcame her difficulty by embracing it, turning it to her advantage. If her contracted-targets were too busy staring at her cum-on-me tits, they were less inclined to be focused on the danger she presented to them.

Right now, the blonde Nordic beauty was seated at a small table in the corner of an out of the way Starbucks, simply dressed in a tee-shirt, leather jacket and jeans. The small freckle-skinned man with her had beady brown eyes, two teeth missing, and a long thin scar running down his right cheek. His head was bald except for the single strand of red hair that curiously ran down the middle of his head. That had earned him his nickname. 

"You understand, Annälisa?" he eventually asked, settling back in his seat.

Beads of perspiration had already broken out on his forehead.

She nodded. She'd understood ten minutes ago, but had learned to be patient with Ginger. He thought that the more he spoke, the more he earned his corn. That was okay with her. 

She had never met any of her employers face-to-face and used Ginger to front up the deals for her. Until lately, he had proven to be the perfect foil, but despite today's briefing he was staring to become lazy. That was a problem for her, and one she would have to address before too long. 

"Here," he added, his callused hand pushing a small buff-coloured envelope across the table towards her. 

His fat fingers were covered in gaudy rings. Ginger loved his bling-bling.

"It's all there," he unnecessarily added. 

Annälisa took the envelope and quickly dropped it into the bag by her feet. He should have known better than to pass it to her so openly—another black mark. 

It contained written instructions, and several photographs. She would digest the information when they finished their meeting and, when the agreed fee hit her bank account, she would eliminate the target with her usual chilling efficiency.

"Time frame?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginger leant forward across the table and looked at her in the way he did when he thought he was in control.

"Tomorrow night," he said, conspiratorially. "The payment will hit your account this afternoon. This job is urgent."

Annälisa pursed her lips. Urgent jobs cost more. Ginger should have known that. But before she could make the point, his beady eyes had broken into a grin.

"An extra five thousand," he gleefully told her. "Didn't I do well?"

She smiled softly at him, but inside she knew he had just sealed his fate. The extra fee for urgent jobs ran into five figures. He could be such a prick at times.

"You did well," she lied. 

This would be the last time they worked together. Why not let him have his moment of glory?

"Anything else?" she asked.

Ginger's smile widened and his thick tongue licked across his dry mouth. The Swedish assassin knew why. She could almost see the drool form on his lips in anticipation.

"Nothing else," he told her, his beady eyes darting from side to side in excitement. "Just my usual payment..."

-

The men's toilet in Starbucks wasn't the most salubrious place, but Ginger was happy enough. As long as he got to fuck the blonde-haired woman, he didn't care where it was. It was an unusual arrangement, but one that suited both parties. 

He could have charged what he wanted for his services, but in what other circumstances would he have an opportunity to have sex with a voluptuous beauty like this one?

As for Annälisa, a steady relationship was impossible in her line of work, which was unfortunate considering her sky-high sex drive. That meant she took casual fucks wherever she could find them, even if they were with someone like Ginger. 

She hunched forward against the cubicle's thin wall, listening to the sound of Ginger unbuckling his trousers behind her. She enjoyed doggie-style and this way she didn't have to look at him. The sight of that red face with its narrowed eyes and missing front teeth could put her off sex for life...

Within a few seconds, she felt his hard dick pressing against the cloth at the back of black skirt. That was better. 

His callused hands took hold of the hem of the skirt and dragged it up onto her back, her superb ass now exposed in her skimpy blue thong. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he yanked it halfway down her thighs and spread her legs even further apart with the outside of his shoe. 

He was in danger of overstepping the mark in his eagerness, but she let it go. This would be their last fuck, after all. Not that she was sentimental, but it had been a few days since she'd been with anyone and her growing need for his modest dick inside her was gathering pace with each passing second.

When he found her wet opening and pushed fiercely into her sex in one quick motion, she couldn't help but let out a groan. 

Encouraged, he reached around to cup her pendulous tits through her tee-shirt. She smacked his fat fingers away. Even though she could feel her nipples react to his touch, he was overstepping the mark again.

He dropped his hands to her hips, using them as leverage as he thrust in and out of her. From the sound of his grunts in her ear, he was close to having a heart attack. It wasn't lost on Annälisa that they could be interrupted at any moment, but that sense of danger had always added to such moments.

She threw her head back as he fucked her. His dick didn't touch her deepest walls, but the length was almost sufficient enough to find the right spot. She pushed back in an attempt to force him deeper, encouraging him to fuck her harder. 

"Fuck!" she heard him grunt.

Oh no. He wasn't close, was he? Not yet?

"Don't dare cum," she rasped over her shoulder. "Think of something else, anything, just keep going."

"Can't," he replied, almost immediately. "I'm nearly there."

Shit!!

Annälisa fucked him for thirty more seconds more, trying to draw the moment out for as long as she could, when she detected his balls begin to tighten. 

With a curse of annoyance, she pulled away and swung around, dropping to her knees just in time to catch the first blast of cum in her slippery mouth. Her graceful fingers stroked his dick as he came, milking him as she swallowed every drop he had.

When he had nothing left, she pushed her blonde hair over her right shoulder as she rose to her feet. The frustrated look on her face spoke volumes. 

"It's been a pleasure, Ginger" she said ironically, as she threw open the cubicle door. "See you around."

-

Annälisa parked the red car in the darkened alley across the road, rather than use the underground hotel car park. She would be more inconspicuous that way. Car parks had cameras, and the police would go through the recordings in fine detail once the body was discovered.

Okay, she had stolen the car less than half an hour ago, but she'd learned a long time ago not to take any unnecessary chances.

According to the information she'd been supplied with, the target was staying in the hotel tonight, in the James Suite. She was posing as the prostitute he'd hired for the evening and had chosen the low cut cream dress with her role in mind. If the way her tits spilled over the top didn't distract him, nothing would.

Her only problem would be avoiding one of the goons that were protecting him, according to the file Ginger had given her. 

That problem reared its head sooner than she'd anticipated. She was just preparing to leave the car when a tap on the driver's window took her by surprise. Damn, how could she have been so careless? The gun pointing through the glass made her heart beat a little faster. No sudden movements, she told herself.

The barrel moved in an upward and downward motion and she obeyed the silent instruction, lowering the window to allow the well-worn face to peer in. 

"Watcha doin'?" a high-pitched voice asked.

He was tall and slim, of Hispanic origin, but it was the way his gun was trained on her that captured her attention. She began to move, but stopped as the weapon waved from side to side. 

"No you don't!" the guy uttered in admonishment. "I asked whatcha doin'!?!"

Annälisa tried to look alarmed as he peered in through the wndow, in the way that a call girl would probably do under the circumstances. But her mind was ticking over. Why would her target have a goon guarding the alley? That didn't make sense, not unless he'd had some sort of tip off. Was that possible?

"I'm looking for a little action," she softly breathed, switching back to the moment. 

She fractionally turned towards him as she spoke, enough to display her heavy cleavage to his gaze. 

His eyes dropped to the swell of her tits as she moved, and in the darkness the distraction allowed her hidden hand to pick up the gun at her side. The silencer was already in place. 

"This is my patch," she added, smiling this time. "You interested in a little fun?"

The face broke into a toothy grin and the guy's gaze found her tits again as he contemplated his options. 

The split second distraction gave her all the time she needed. Her swift movement was as deadly as her aim and the soft spit broke the silence as the bullet hit him directly between the eyes, followed by a dull thud as his body collapsed to the ground.

Annälisa's cold blue eyes returned to the hotel across the street as she pondered what had just happened. Something didn't add up, even if she couldn't quite work out what it was. That meant she would have to tread even more carefully than usual.

Exiting the vehicle, she swiftly heaved the goon's body between the car and the wall. Her task wouldn't take long and the darkness would provide enough cover until she returned.

-

The Swedish assassin pulled her white coat tightly around her body as she entered the hotel, making sure she attracted as little attention as possible. The lifts were at the far side of the lobby and so she ignored them, instead taking the door immediately to her left. The stairs were the safest way of keeping her out of sight while she made her way to her destination 

She took the steps two at a time, pausing when she reached the top floor. After listening carefully for a moment, she pushed the brown door open and quickly slipped into the corridor—hand on the gun in her pocket—ready to act if she met another goon. 

The passageway was empty. That was just as well. She had no intention of taking any chances following her brief encounter in the alley, but any further killings could lead to complications. 

After a moment's thought, Annälisa decided to pick the lock to the suite rather than announce her arrival. If there had been some sort of tip-off, then the target could be waiting for her.

It took her a nano-second to open the door and as soon as she stealthily tiptoed into the small annexe, she heard the unmistakeable sounds of feminine pleasure coming from her right—the master bedroom? That made no sense. 

He was supposedly expecting her, wasn't she?

Slipping the gun from her pocket, she closed the suite door silently behind her and crept her way towards the bedroom, one step at a time. The door was half-open and all it took was for her to edge her head into the gap to see that a guy was sitting in a leather chair opposite a mirror, watching his reflection as a naked Japanese girl undulated sexily on his lap.

It was her target. The photographs she'd been given confirmed that.

The girl was a hot piece of ass, there was no doubt about that, and moved like a lap dancer as she rotated her slim hips in tight little circles in his lap. When he began to groan, she teasingly glanced back at him as she leant forward, eased her ass upwards, and then slammed it back down on him again.

"Fuck, bitch..." he gasped. 

The girl laughed out loud as she pulled his hands to her tits and then repeated the manoeuvre. A second time. And then a third. 

His pulled his hands away and redirected them to her gyrating hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady her. It brought more laughter from the sexy young woman.

"Yoko too hot for you?" she asked, in her thick, Japanese accent.

She clutched her tits as she increased the pace, pulling on her brown nipples that grew long and hard out of her areola. Arching her olive-hued body like a bow, she changed from her slamming, downward thrusts to circular rotations again. 

"Ever had anyone as good as me?" she teased.

She was never still and her small hands left her perky tits to pull her long dark hair high on top of her head as she jammed back down on him again. 

Annälisa felt the wetness between her thighs. Her brief encounter with Ginger in the Starbuck's toilets yesterday had only whetted her appetite and she would need to go looking for a guy to spend the night with when she was finished here. Her vibe could only give so much satisfaction. 

The sooner the better...

Stepping into the room, she silently moved towards the rutting couple, gun firmly in hand. Placing the barrel against the side of his head before either of them noticed her presence; she gently squeezed the trigger and blew his brains out. 

His body convulsed with a huge shudder, and the Japanese girl gasped as she suddenly realised what had happened. 

But that was all. A gasp! Not a shriek, or a scream... 

The young woman's unusual reaction made Annälisa pause as she turned the gun on her, and to add to the assassin's surprise the girl held a fist to her mouth as she bucked like a wild stallion during the few seconds before the man collapsed under her.

"Oh shit, I'm cumming!" she suddenly cried, her body convulsing as the orgasm spread through her. 

Annälisa held the gun steady as she stared at her in shock. This had to be one seriously fucked-up young woman.

The Japanese girl stepped off the dead man as if it was an everyday occurrence and ignored the assassin's weapon as she made her way towards her purse on the bed.

"Hell of a way to get off," she laughed, pulling out what looked to be a cigarette.

When she casually lit it, the noxious odour of blueberry headies suggested it was anything but. The atmosphere was tinged with sexual electricity as they just stood looking at one another while the girl took another drag on the joint.

"You're going to kill me, too?" she asked.

Annälisa realised that her Japanese accent was mixed with a touch of British, but it was her calm tone that surprised her. It was so casual she could have been asking about the weather.

She nodded slowly. There was something about this girl that intrigued her, but witnessing the hit was enough to condemn her. That was the way it worked, right?

"You don't have to," the girl softly said, shrugging her shoulders as if the decision wasn't of any real consequence. "I won't tell anyone." 

The way her gaze ran across the Swedish beauty's body brought with it an unexpected reaction between Annälisa's thighs.

"Besides, it's been a while since Yoko has been with another woman," she went on. "How about you?"

The question took the blonde by surprise and the unspoken answer was that it was too long. While she was bisexual, she had always preferred girl-girl sex.

And as girls went, this young Asian beauty was spectacular... 

She was one of those young women who were probably even more perfect naked than she was clothed. There wasn't an ounce of excess fat on her taut, bare flesh. Everything was tight and feminine, from her high, perky breasts to her flat, toned stomach to the gentle curves of her hips. 

And her bare labial lips were glossy and pink with arousal...

"Yoko recognises that look," the girl chuckled, taking one more drag on the joint before casually flicking it across the room, not caring where it landed. 

Her almond shaped eyes locked onto Annälisa's hungry gaze and she smiled wickedly. Did she even understand the seriousness of her situation? The way her extraordinarily long pierced tongue flicked lightly across her mouth as she casually strolled across to the blonde suggested not.

"See something you like?" she teased, as the blonde's gaze ran across her slender olive-hued body again.

Annälisa's fingers tightened on the trigger as the exotic girl reached for the gun, but it instantly became apparent that Yoko wasn't trying to take it away from her. Instead, the sexy young woman guided the gun to her face, took the cold metal of the barrel between her soft pink lips and began to suck on like it was a dick.

The closeness between death and sex was intoxicating.

A devilish glint sparkled in her dark eyes as she reached for the shoulder straps of the blonde's cream dress. With a rough tug, she yanked them downwards, exposing the assassin's impressively large tits to the cool air. Annälisa's nipples hardened instantly as her dress slid from her voluptuous body, leaving her naked except for her skimpy light-blue thong.

Yoko's hungry eyes widened in appreciation as they devoured the sight on offer, and then her hands were on the thrusting tits, taking each of them in her cool palms and sampling their shape and firmness as if she was handling two pieces of ripe fruit. 

For a few long seconds the two women just stared at one another, the gun still between Yoko's sucking lips as the pads of her thumbs flicked at Annälisa's thick nipples.

But then the Japanese girl was sinking to her knees, leaving the gun and the Swedish woman's magnificent breasts behind. 

Her wicked gaze stared upwards as she tugged Annälisa's thong down her shapely thighs, tilted her head to the left and her unusually long tongue snaked across the woman's clit.

The blonde gasped as she felt cold the tongue-piercing on her flesh, and then Yoko was caressing her sensitive little nub with a series of delicious licks. Geez ... this girl didn't need to be told anything about the art of pleasuring another woman. 

She wrapped one of her hands around Annälisa's asscheeks, her slim fingers stroking them achingly slowly as her sweet mouth ignited nerve endings and senses in a way the gasping blonde hadn't experienced for a long time. Way too long... 

Still holding her gun in one hand, she allowed the other to glide through the Japanese girl's silken black hair. Before she knew it, she was thrusting her hips forward in short, swift strokes, smearing her juices all over that beautiful young face. 

Narrowing her eyes as the pleasure flooded through her, she glanced over at the chair. The dead man was slumped across the arm, looking so peaceful he could easily have been asleep. His goons must be nearby, which meant that she was taking a chance by staying her a moment longer than necessary.

But this girl's amazingly long pierced tongue made it worth the risk...

Annälisa let her pleasure her for a while longer before she eventually slipped her hands under the girl's arms and pulled her up to her feet. It was important for the exotic Japanese beauty to fully understand who was in control here. Grabbing a handful of her dark locks, she dragged her across the floor and threw her down on the bed.

Yoko landed with a bounce, squealing in surprise and delight as her dark hair fanned across her face and her tits bounced. 

Moving with the grace of a panther, Annälisa quickly covered the olive-hued body with her own. She could feel Yoko's heat and wetness as she scissored their thighs together and pulled the young woman's right leg up onto her shoulder. 

"Yes," the girl gasped, her almond shaped eyes gleaming with need. "Fuck me."




The Assassin



Annälisa stared down at her prize for a moment before dipping her head to suck one of those beautiful brown nipples into her mouth. It tasted as delicious as it looked. Yoko moaned like an animal in heat when she pulled it between her teeth. 

"Fuck me," she gasped again, reaching up to cup Annälisa's hanging breasts in her palms. "Do it. Now..."

The assassin began to move her hips with a teasingly slow pace, savouring the moment. She couldn't remember when she'd last wanted a woman as much as this one. The delicious feeling of their juices mingling and their bare skin gliding against one another was exhilarating. 

Yoko spontaneously matched her movements as if she'd been born to the task. Her heated gaze stayed locked on Annälisa's as they ground their pussies against one another and she began to talk to the voluptuous blonde in her native tongue. While the blonde didn't understand the words, the unexpected effect of being spoken to in Japanese was incredibly hot. 

She ground down harder, their juices flowing even more freely as her hips circled faster, increasing the intensity. And still Yoko stayed with her, humping upwards in the most perfect rhythm. 

This sexy young beauty really was something else!

Their hands tightened on each other's flesh, gaining more friction as their pumping hips increased the pressure. Both of them were groaning now, the heat of their bodies sheathing one another in a coat of her needy femininity. 

Everything was white hot ... the friction, the sucking wetness ... the groans, the moans ... the sound of slapping flesh... 

Annälisa bucked faster as a glossy sheen of sweat began to form on their skins, glittering like diamonds. Her teeth were biting her bottom lip so hard that she was almost drawing blood. 

"Harder," Yoko squeaked, reverting to English.

The word came out as a barely audible low moan from the back of her throat. 

"Fuck me harder, baby..." 

Annälisa snarled at her as she rose up onto her knees, her wet grinding sex never leaving Yoko's as she picked up the pace. The bed bounced as she went for broke, and when the girl's thighs started to shake, she knew the moment had arrived. 

Bracing Yoko's leg against her shoulder, she leveraged herself over the girl and reached across with her free hand, roughly yanking her dark hair as she ground down one final time. 

The young beauty screamed as her nerve ends triggered. Her red fingernails began to claw at Annälisa's flesh, desperate to leave their mark. Then her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hard body vibrated and she couldn't hold back...

Annälisa came with her, letting their orgasms flood through them as if someone had lit a blue touch paper that led to a series of electric shocks sparking through their bodies. 

Although this girl had witnessed the execution, she wasn't going to kill her. She had other plans for the young Japanese beauty.

Goodbye Ginger. Hello Yoko.



The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 01



Morgana the sorceress was ancient and powerful, having laid waste to entire armies single-handedly in days of yore, or at least that's what the legends told. Adrielle prayed these legends weren't all true, because this was the woman she was meant to kill tonight.

As the twilight faded away, Adrielle Tanner silently scaled the rough stone walls of the ancient keep. She was dressed head to foot in dark, tight-fitting clothing: nothing to rustle or impede her movement. Her boots were soft, well-worn leather that wouldn't creak as she moved or sound her footsteps as she walked. Everything she wore was laced. There was no buttons or metal buckles to clink or reflect the light of a torch. The one metal item she had brought was her dagger, safely holstered in its leather sheath at her right thigh.

She carefully moved one hand at a time, making sure her grip was perfect before she moved another limb. It was a good thing this unnamed ruin of a castle was in such disrepair. The broken rocks and occasional vine gave her just enough to grab ahold of.

Though it might have made her climb easier and much less deadly, she was afraid that tossing a grappling hook up to the ledge might make too much noise. The fifty foot drop below was a surely a lesser danger compared to her target inside. Surprise was her best and only advantage over this monster. If Morgana was alerted to her presence, even Adrielle's poisoned blade and lightning speed might not be enough to save her.

Finally, after a few minutes that had seemed hours, she was in reach of the window. Her hands were starting to tremble, but she didn't allow herself to climb up just yet. She stopped and listened. She could hear the soft wind rushing by the castle, rustling the leaves in the trees below her. At that moment, her breath sounded as loud as a hurricane to her in the dead silence of the night. But there was nothing else to hear. The room on the other side of the window was completely silent.

She closed her eyes and said a brief prayer, then slowly raised her head above the stone ledge. There was a dimly lit doorway on the far wall that seemed to lead deeper inside, but the room just inside was lit only by starlight. She silently climbed over the ledge and at last rested her feet on solid ground.

She found herself inside a long, narrow room with a row of large windows overlooking the forest. It seemed to serve as a balcony of sorts which would let the residents enjoy the weather on a nice day, and double as a palisade if the castle fell under attack.

She was still breathing heavily from her climb, so she decided to rest for a few minutes until her breathing had quieted. She rested her forearms against the sill of the large window she had climbed through. Down below her she could barely see the remains of an ancient village in the moonlight. Though the forest had mostly reclaimed this land for itself, she could still make out a few hints of civilization once having thrived there. There were foundations of buildings and the remains of roads that had passed between them. She hadn't noticed this on her way to the castle, her mind having been preoccupied with making sure she stayed behind cover to hide her approach. Who had lived here when this village had flourished, she wondered, and what had become of them? It was probably old history, and certainly not relevant at this moment.

She slid her fingers over the pommel of the dagger. Its blade was coated in a deadly poison, the extract of castor beans. One scratch with this vile poison would doom any mortal to a certain death within two or three days, though she was hopeful that it wouldn't even come to the poison. If she was quick, she could pierce her heart or slit her throat, and kill her quickly enough that she could escape alive.

Could Morgana even be killed by a blade? The folk tales varied so widely that it was hard to know anything about her for certain: where she was from or what she looked like. The tales only agreed on a few basic things. She was old; older than any human could ever live naturally, and she was extremely powerful. They said she could make things happen, impossible and horrifying things, just by thinking about them. She tried not to think of the untold death and torture the sorceress could inflict on her with a single glance. Yes, best to remain unnoticed.

The only other commonality between the tales was that she was wicked. In some, Morgana was violent and sadistic, killing hundreds just for pleasure. In others, she was more subtle, causing plagues or crop failures, or seeking to slowly corrupt good, God-fearing Christians quietly, behind the scenes. But in none of the countless tales had she ever done anything benevolent with her untold power. Not a thing.

Was Morgana even in this ruin, though? There was that dim light through the doorway, but that could have been any traveler taking advantage of unoccupied shelter. Count Bastian was convinced enough she lived here. So very few people had ever claimed to have seen her in person, so who could say for sure? Old wives' tales spoke of people, usually young women, going missing in these woods. What more, several travelers had claimed to have seen a strange woman about these ruins.

But old wives' tales weren't why she was here. Ten days ago Count Bastian's daughter, Gwendolyn, had gone missing. He said she had been talking about the legends of Morgana lately and wondering if that deserted castle miles outside of town was her dwelling. In fact, she had seemed rather obsessed with the idea, enough that he suspected she might have left to explore these rumors for herself. A few witnesses claimed to have seen a young woman of her description headed that direction around the time of her disappearance, which added tremendous weight to his fears. So Adrielle had been hired to infiltrate the ruin where the sorceress was rumored to live, kill her, and rescue the young Lady Gwendolyn.

Adrielle's breathing had returned to normal. She had rested long enough. She got up from the window sill and thought of which way to go. It was still dead silent. In the middle of the inner wall to this room was a heavy, wooden door. It's clear purpose was to keep intruders that made it into this solar, as she just had, from penetrating deeper into the castle. That door, however, had been left ajar. She crept to the one to her right and put her hands on the iron ring hanging from it. The iron was surprisingly good condition, despite the age of the outside of the castle. It had been replaced recently. Her hopes that the count had been wrong about this castle were starting to vanish. She held her breath and pulled carefully on the ring.

There was a slight creak. Her heart skipped a beat, however it wasn't loud. She forced herself to calm down, and she pulled the door open just wide enough for her to squeeze through.

Inside there was just enough light for her to see. Some torches were lit just down the hallway. She could barely believe what she saw! The interior looked new! The stones were cut perfectly smooth with no sign of erosion, and the decorations, though scant for the inside of a castle, were in perfect condition. She could barely believe something like this could exist in this isolated ghost town so many miles from any populated settlement. The ruins on the exterior were just a disguise!

Slowly and calmly, Adrielle made her way deeper into the castle. She explored several dimly lit hallways until she saw a brighter light coming from an open doorway. She approached stealthily. As she neared it, she could hear noises. She heard labored breathing, and as she got closer, rustling, like fabric or bed sheets. Somebody was most certainly in that room.

Her soft-soled leather boots made hardly a sound as she tiptoed to the doorway. She stopped just before the doorframe, her back against the wall, and drew her dagger.

Her heart rate increased as she crouched down and let her eyes move past the doorframe. It was a bedchamber. The furnishings were notably more luxurious than the ones in the hallway: carved mahogany dressers and chairs, large mirrors, and intricate tapestries. There was a large bed with expensive spreads and a silk canopy. It looked like the chamber of a queen!

On top of that bed was a woman. She was beautiful, with long, silky black hair that draped over the pillows, large breasts, a slender waist and such wonderfully wide, feminine hips. She was completely nude, with the covers thrown back. Her left hand held her breast while her right worked itself up and down between her thighs, running her fingers purposefully along her womanhood. Her hips rocked up and down in gracious acceptance of this attention.

Masturbating! What a shameful way to die! Adrielle smiled, making sure not to snicker. This was too perfect! This was almost better than if she had been asleep. The woman's head was reeling back, staring up and backwards, if she was looking at anything at all. Her heavy breathing would serve as the perfect background noise. She could slide that knife across her throat before she knew there was anyone else in the room with her.

It didn't sound like she was quite near orgasm, so Adrielle figured she had some time for caution. She disappeared back behind the doorframe to consider her options. Should she wait for the woman to go to sleep? No, she didn't know that the sorceress would go to bed right after she was done with her business. What if she left the bedroom after she was done? This was a good enough opportunity for Adrielle.

But was this woman really Morgana, though? She had to be certain before she took her life. She certainly wasn't the count's daughter. But what if she was somebody else, just some innocent hermit living in an abandoned castle?

No, that didn't make any sense! Here was a beautiful, young woman living a life of luxury by herself, miles and miles from any civilization. Who had carted all these furnishings here? No wagon large enough to carry some of the items in here could possibly have made it through the dense woods that surrounded this castle, and there was nobody who could have built them within fifty miles. What did this woman eat, where did the fuel for that lamp come from? Something was definitely not right about this.

Adrielle was certain enough. She took one deep breath as she prepared to act out her plan. Staying low, she crept out from behind the doorframe. The woman continued to pleasure herself, completely unaware of the assassin. Closer and closer she crept. If the woman looked up and saw her, she would charge at her. If not, then she would creep closer till she could slit her throat silently.

She was halfway across the floor. The woman gasped, and started to rub herself harder, but she did not look up.

Adrielle kept low to the ground to stay out of sight, but kept her footing so she could spring at a moment's notice. One step, then another... She was so close now. Another ten feet...

Suddenly, the woman looked up and saw Adrielle. Their eyes met. Whereas most people might have screamed to suddenly see an intruder by their bedside with a drawn dagger, the woman in the bed barely even jumped. She looked more confused than surprised.

Adrielle lunged. The woman's only response was to give a lazy flick of her hand at her, as if she were shooing away a fly. Suddenly, Adrielle felt an invisible wave of force hit her, which stopped her mid-lunge and threw her back like the current of a raging river. She landed hard on her back near the wall.

That woman had thrown her halfway across the room with a gesture! At least there was no doubt about who she was anymore. Wasting no time, Adrielle leapt to her feet. She had lost the element of surprise, but she could still act before the sorceress regained her wits. She charged at her target again.

The woman flicked her hand again, more deliberately this time. Adrielle reflexively tumbled to the side, and seemed to avoid the brunt of the attack. She was knocked off her feet, though at least she wasn't thrown across the room this time.

She was almost within arm's reach! She leapt to her feet again and prepared to deal the killing blow.

"Just stop," the sorceress commanded, sounding more annoyed than frightened.

Adrielle's strength suddenly gave out as she collapsed into a heap on the floor next to the bed. She tried to get up again yet again, but her whole body felt so weak she could barely lift her own hands. She felt the dagger fly from underneath her fingers and heard it clatter against the wall across the room.

Now Adrielle was in trouble. She was helpless and unarmed. She had failed.

She saw the sorceress' feet descend from the bed and land on the floor next to her.

"Who are you?"

Adrielle did not respond.

"Stand up."

Strength began to return to her limbs. Slowly, she began to rise to her feet. The woman took a few steps backwards as she rose, though she did not look at all frightened of her, nor did she look the slightest bit abashed of her nakedness.

For the first time, Adrielle got a good look at the woman's features. She looked to be in her thirties; distinguished and wise while still youthful and beautiful. She had charming, intelligent, blue eyes and silky, black hair that hung loosely down her back. Her cheeks were slender, and her full lips looked quite inviting. Her body was slender but strong; smooth curves with just a nice bulge of muscle in all the right places.

Her crotch drew Adrielle's attention as soon as she noticed it. She had what must have been the hugest slit she had ever seen on a woman before. She caught herself doing a double-take on her impressive womanhood. Her crotch was completely hairless with full, fleshy labia majora that formed a tight but remarkably long cleft up the front of her groin. Despite the dire situation, Adrielle still managed to wonder what it would feel like to slide her fingers into that deep, fleshy crevice.

The woman's voice took that thought away from her at once. "Looking at that knife, I might almost think you came here to kill me. Who are you, and why are you here?"

"I... I came to rescue Gwendolyn, Count Bastian's daughter."

"Gwendolyn? Yes, she is here, but I did not kidnap her. She came to me quite willingly, and she remains here of her own free will, too. She does not wish to return home."

"You're lying! Why would she run away from home?"

"'Why' doesn't concern you. What does concern you is that you seemed content to murder me without any proof of this accusation. Yes, you tried to kill me, but it looks like I have bested you instead. I think, by rights, you should belong to me now, don't you agree?"

The sorceress paused to give Adrielle a chance to speak her thoughts, however she remained silent. After Adrielle declined to speak, Morgana continued.

"Let's have a look at you, shall we?"

Suddenly, Adrielle's clothes exploded into shreds around her, leaving her stark naked. Adrielle shrieked and doubled over, covering herself with her arms.

"Stand up straight! Arms at your side!" she said in a commanding tone. Then she added in a softer tone, "You can comply willingly, or I can take your strength from you again and lay you down limp on the floor."

Adrielle stood up and did as she asked. She was trembling with fright, not knowing what the sorceress meant to do with her.

She looked her captive up and down, slowly walking in a circle around her. Adrielle had an athletic build, bright green eyes, and long, blond hair that hung down to the small of her back in a ponytail. She had a wonderfully defined butt. Her hips weren't as wide as the sorceress', nor were her breasts quite as large, though they were still a nice handful.

"My, my! You have very lovely nipples! They're nice and big! So feminine! I love them!"

It was true. Adrielle had very large nipples. There wasn't much most clothing could do to hide them. They poked through nearly anything whenever they got hard. She knew people noticed, but she had stopped caring eventually. In fact, she was rather proud of them. Not so much right now, though.

"Oh, I love nipples so much, and yours are amazing! May I touch them?" Morgana's hands were on Adrielle's sides, slowly caressing upward towards her breasts.

Adrielle tensed up and pulled away slightly. "Please... Please don't..." she pleaded weakly.

The sorceress sighed, sliding her hands away from Adrielle. "Very well. I doubt you would have spared my life if I had begged, but I will be merciful to you all the same. You belong to me, however I will not touch you if you don't want to be touched. I will grant you that, at least."

Adrielle remained quiet, so she continued. "So talk to me. What is your name? I am Morgana, though I suspect you knew that already."

Adrielle thought about refusing to answer, but was there really anything to be gained by withholding her name? "Adrielle," she said quietly. "My name's Adrielle."

"Adrielle... What a pretty name for such a pretty girl! So, you came here because you think I kidnapped Gwendolyn? And to kill me for it, is that it?"

"I..." Adrielle began, but was afraid to finish. She saw Morgana glance at the dagger still lying in the corner, and was reminded that they both knew the answer to that question already. There would be no point in trying to deny it.

"Yes. They say you kidnap young girls, and when Gwendolyn went missing, her father believed she had come here. She had been talking about you, so Count Bastion thought she was curious about you. He wanted me to rescue her... and, yes, to kill you."

"You assume too much. She did come to me for her own safety. I am protecting her from her father, who would marry her off for his own political gain. I suppose he might want me dead for that, but is it for taking his daughter, or his bargaining chip?"

"So... what will you do with me? I can... I can tell the count what you told me. He won't be happy to hear that, but..." She trailed off. Really, she was trying to think of any reason at all for Morgana to let her go free.

Morgana only laughed. "No, I have other plans for you, dear Adrielle. Gwendolyn's affair aside, you mustn't forget that you tried to kill me. As I said before, you belong to me now. Maybe I'll let you meet Gwendolyn eventually, but not until I can trust you, and you have quite a ways to go before that happens. No, you get to be my slave for now."

Morgana grinned, and her gaze returned to Adrielle's breasts. Adrielle instinctively covered herself with her arms.

Morgana scowled. "Do NOT cover your breasts in front of me! I own you now, and that includes your body. I promised I will not touch you without your permission, but that is all I promised."

"Now, what else do we have," she said, looking further down. "Oh, tsk tsk. Don't they teach you basic hygiene where you come from? Your crotch is hairy like an animal. So crude! Here."

Morgana waved her hand. Suddenly, she felt a tickle on her mons as her pubic hair faded away, leaving behind only her bare, fleshy slit. Adrielle's mouth fell open as she examined herself. She felt herself, feeling only smooth skin. It felt odd to her, but strangely pleasing.

"I thought you'd like it. I made it so you won't grow pubic hair anymore, so you won't even have to worry about shaving. I took care of the rest of your body hair, too. Now you're all smooth and ladylike!"

Adrielle brought her hands from her crotch to her armpits. She usually shaved those, but even the stubble was gone. Meanwhile, Morgana continued to circle Adrielle, inspecting her body from all angles.

"My, my! You have so many scars! What happened to you."

"I've survived a few fights," she replied simply, then added, "Some of them barely."

"So it would seem! I can see why the count hired you, of all people. Here, let me fix those up for you."

Adrielle felt the slightest tickle along the scar that ran up her belly, the largest one she had. It had been Samson the feared bandit king that had given her that scar the instant before his death. She looked down just in time to see the mark fade away and blend in seamlessly with the surrounding flesh. The same happened for all her other scars, one by one. The sorceress continued to inspect her from all sides as she fixed any other imperfections she could find, a mole here, a birthmark there, a few fresh scrapes she had earned while climbing the wall. But as promised, she never touched her. When she was satisfied with Adrielle's appearance, she stood in front of her and regarded her once more.




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 01



"Well, now you are up to my standards, but is there anything you would like? I can make you look any way you want. Maybe you'd like larger breasts, a different eye color, fuller lips? I could give you anything you want. Don't be shy! Just because you're my slave, doesn't mean I won't treat you."

"Um..." was all she managed to squeak in response. In truth, there were many improvements to her body that she would have wanted any other time, however she wasn't in much of a mood to care right now.

"I have a mirror," the sorceress continued. "We could make a change, and if you don't like it we can go back to how you looked before. Hmm, I could straighten your teeth out a little. That front one just ever so askew. Or maybe... yes, your inner labia do protrude a bit much for my taste, though I would hardly call that a flaw."

"No... no, thank you."

"Of course," Morgana agreed. "You are absolutely beautiful as you are!" Her hands had returned to Adrielle, this time on either of her hips, slowly caressing upward. "So, would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

Disgusted, Adrielle shoved the sorceress' hands aside. "Don't touch me," she said with a sudden hint of fire. She covered her herself with her hands, well aware of Morgana's command not to.

Morgana obediently drew her hands away from Adrielle, then held her palms up in front of her, defensively. "I'll take that as a 'no,' then?"

"You'd have to paralyze me again."

"No, no. You can't force a person's love, even one as powerful as me. I won't punish you for that. Maybe it was silly of me to hope. You did come here trying to kill me, I shouldn't forget. I suppose I should lock you up like most would do with a would-be assassin. Really, who offers to play dress-up with somebody that just tried to kill her, and then offer her the warmth of her bed? Why must I always be so contrary? Come with me. I'll show you to your quarters... for now."

Morgana reached for her bed and grabbed a fancy, purple cloak which she threw around her shoulders, then pulled on a pair of black silk boots. Adrielle wondered what the cloak was even for, because it didn't close in the front and failed to cover any of her private parts.

"Come," she ordered.Adrielle hesitated for a moment. Morgana stopped and turned back toward her.

"You can follow willingly, or I can make you. You're going where I want one way or another, so you might as well go on your own two legs."

Adrielle followed. She almost paused before passing through the door to the hallway. The idea of leaving the bedroom while still naked unnerved her, but she supposed she didn't have any other options. At least she wouldn't be the only one naked. Did Morgana seriously walk around her castle like that?

The sorceress led her through the hallway, opened a heavy wooden door, and took her down several flights of winding stairs. At the base of the stairwell was a dungeon with a few empty cells. Down here looked as old as the outside of the castle with the rusted iron bars. Most of them did not look like they could be trusted to hold a prisoner anymore.

Morgana gestured for Adrielle to enter one of the cells, one of the few that was still intact. Inside were a bare canvas cot and a bucket. The cot had no blankets, but at least it wasn't uncomfortably cold in here. Adrielle entered and morgana shut the door. With a wave of her hand, the cell door locked itself.

"Will you give me some clothes, at least?" she asked, sounding defeated.

"No."

With that, the sorceress turned and walked away from her. Adrielle was now alone and stark naked in a dim cell. Morgana had graciously left a torch burning so she could see, but it wasn't much. What would she do now? What did the sorceress have in store for her? Would she be left here to rot? Would she be put to grueling work, or tortured for pleasure? She tried not to think about it too hard.

...

As soon as the sorceress was good and gone, Adrielle began looking for a way to escape. It didn't take her long. The bars of the cell were heavily corroded. If the sorceress had used her magic to keep the interior of the castle pristine, it certainly didn't reach the dungeon. She found one bar that looked like it would snap with enough force. A glimmer of hope overcame her. She smiled.

She decided she would wait a few hours before making her escape attempt. She lay down on the cot for a while to rest, though she did not allow herself to sleep. She probably couldn't have if she had wanted to, anyway.

When she decided it was time, she got up and grasped the bar with both hands. She gave a good solid yank and felt it move a bit. She heard the metal groan. This was going to be easier than she had thought. After a few more tugs, the bar snapped in the middle. She continued pulling back, bending the remainder of the bar inward towards the cell. She bent it back and forth a few times until it broke free. That had been almost too easy!

She set the bar down on the stone floor and crouched through the hole she had made. Next, she tested the door to the dungeon and found it unlocked. For a powerful sorceress, Morgana sure wasn't very careful. She began to ascent the stairs.

While she moved, she wondered what she would do even if she could escape from the castle. She knew the way back to her village. It was quite a hike, but that wasn't the problem. Would she be able to return home fully nude? Her home was in the middle of the village, and she doubted she could make it there before sunrise. People would see her. She decided not to care. She was brave Adrielle, who battled evil villains and deadly monsters alike! Surely she wasn't afraid of something so harmless! Getting free was so much more important. Besides, she would have all the time she needed on the way back to think of some way to get back home without having to walk through the village square naked.

Adrielle walked through the first door she saw. It seemed to be on the ground floor. She explored around a couple of corners until she found what appeared to be the entrance hall with a large double door. This must be the main gate! There was a slot for a brace, however there was no brace she could see in the dim moonlit room. Why had she even bothered to climb the wall?

She snuck up to the doorway and pushed. It started to swing open silently. Her heart pounded with excitement! She could see the night sky through the crack in the door! Freedom!

She pushed harder on the door, but before she had gotten it wide enough to squeeze through, she felt herself being pulled away from the door forcefully. Her hand was wrenched away from the handle as she flew backwards through the air.

She turned once in the air, and stopped just in front of Morgana, her hand outstretched towards her. Adrielle was floating in midair. Her feet grasped for something, anything to support her, but there was nothing she could reach.

"Trying to escape," she said, accusingly. "Listen to me, slave, I am more powerful than you could imagine! That little dagger of yours? It wouldn't have hurt me, even if I hadn't noticed you sneaking up on me. It was covered in something, a poison, maybe? It wouldn't have mattered. And any attempts you make to escape will be just as pointless."

The sorceress pulled her hand slightly back towards herself, and Adrielle floated closer to her until their faces were barely a foot apart. She gazed up at Adrielle angrily.

"It behooves you to obey me. You will do as I say, or you will regret it. Do you understand me?"

"Y... yes."

"You will address me as Mistress. Do you understand?"

"You are a lot of things, Morgana: a narcissist, a deviant, a monster, but you are not my mistress."

"Don't presume to know me! But very well, call me what you will. I shall return to bed now. Oh, and if I ever catch you trying to escape again, I will stick you to the wall by your nipples! Good night."

Morgana turned around and left, leaving Adrielle floating a foot off the floor. She had figured the sorceress had been maintaining some sort of concentration to keep her floating, but she continued to float there even as Morgana left the room.

Adrielle groped for anything to grab onto, even something to push off of. After a few minutes of flailing, she knew that there was absolutely nothing solid within reach of her. She managed to rotate her orientation with her flailing, but she was still hovering in the very same spot as far as she could tell. She tried to think of any other way to get down from this strange form of bondage, but nothing else came to her. Without anything solid to grab onto, there was nothing she could do.

For hours she just floated there, wondering what the sorceress would do with her next.

...

"Wake up, beautiful."

Adrielle's eyes shot open. Early morning sunlight was streaming through the narrow windows of the entryway. The next instant she was aware she was still floating in the middle of the room. Had she actually fallen asleep like that? The sorceress was in front of her, wearing that same cloak that did nothing to cover her body, though it wasn't necessarily a body that needed covering.

Adrielle's wasn't either, though she covered herself with her arms anyway for her own sake.

"Morgana..."

"What did you just call me?" She pointed one finger at her. A small spark of lightning shot out of her finger at her. Adrielle yelped, but more from surprise than pain.

"You are NOT my mistress! Torture me all you want, it won't matter."

"Ha ha! Torture? You call this torture?" Another bolt shot out from Morgana's hand at her.

"Ow!"

"This is barely a spanking for forgetting your manners. If I tried to get a captured soldier to betray his king and country with little jolts like that, I think that he would laugh at me. If you won't call me 'Mistress' like a good little servant, then I suppose you can be my prisoner instead. I came here to offer you some breakfast and to give you some chores. But, if you think eating cold gruel back in that musty cell is better than getting along with me, then who am I to argue?"

Morgana held up her right hand, palm facing up. In the empty space above her palm, a flaky pastry popped into existence, floating mid-air just as she was. Adrielle could immediately smell meat and spices, and realized she was very, very hungry. She had eaten very lightly during the two-day hike from her home in Lindis, and the delectable smells made the dry trail rations she had hidden with her other provisions outside seem like dust in comparison.

"All I'm asking you to do, Adrielle, is speak to me with some respect. Why this defiance? Why this incessant display of bravado? You aren't stronger than me, and we both know that fully well. You tried to kill me, yet I offer you mercy, even my hospitality. All I want in return is your gratitude. Is that too much?"

Adrielle eyed the bun that was suspended an inch above the sorceress' hand, and her mouth began to water. She took a moment to consider this carefully. She didn't want to get into the habit of yielding to this madwoman's will, however there seemed to be nothing to gain by defiance just now save for defiance itself. She figured being locked in that decaying cell had been a test of her obedience anyway, and that Morgana could have imprisoned her more securely if she had needed. She would have a better chance to escape if she pretended to agree. And she was so hungry!

"Be sensible, girl. Speak to me with respect and offer a helping hand, and I will treat you well in turn. I will grant you all the luxuries the rest of my servants enjoy. What say you?"

Adrielle took in a deep breath and released it, carefully considering her options.

"If I do, will you give me some clothes, at least?"

"No. No clothes."

"Whavever. If you want me to do my chores naked, I'll do them naked. Please let me down... Mistress." It hurt her pride so much to call her that, but she reminded herself that there was more at stake here than pride.

"I'm glad to hear it," Morgana said, and Adrielle found herself floating softly back to the floor. She was set back down gently on her feet. "Keep this up and I may let you meet the other servants soon. Maybe even fair Gwendolyn. But first, this is for you."

Morgana held out her hand. Adrielle accepted the plump, fragrant bun into her hands. It was warm! But as tempting as it was, she was cautious to eat it. She sniffed it twice, examining it suspiciously.

"It's just a pasty. There's no trick. If I wanted to curse you, I could just as easily place the curse directly on you. Why should I try to trick you into eating enchanted food?"

Slowly, Adrielle bit into it. The crisp, flaky crust cracked and crumbled at the slightest touch of her teeth. Its inside was soft and warm. It was filled with pork, roasted apples, and several spices that Adrielle could hardly begin to name. It was delicious, but she was too famished to savor it. She had wolfed it down in only a few bites.

"Something to wash it down with?"

Morgana held out a golden goblet, which Adrielle also accepted and drank from. It was filled with a clear, sweet nectar. It had a hint of white grapes and nutmeg. She finished that, too, in a few short seconds.

When she handed the goblet back to Morgana, it turned into a clean, folded napkin in her hands. Adrielle took the napkin and cleaned her face and hands with the fine fabric. As soon as she was finished cleaning herself, Morgana waved her hands, and it dissipated in Adrielle's hands like mist. 

Adrielle hated to admit it, but she had been rather entertained by the showy demonstration. She realized with a touch of horror that she had been smiling.

"Come, follow me. I will show you what I want you to do today."

Morgana led Adrielle up several floors, and brought her to a library. Three of the four walls were covered with bookshelves, and there must have been thousands of books! Had anyone really read all of these, she wondered? It would take a lifetime to go through one wall, or at least a normal human lifetime. Perhaps Morgana had read them all.

In the middle of the room was a table with large armchair next to it. Its dark wood was elaborately carved, and the cushions built into it were a deep crimson. She had never seen designs like these before. Where had they come from?

Against the far wall was a wide sofa that matched the armchair. Books were strewn about along with some wine goblets and other various items, though by the coating of dust it looked like they had been there for some time. There was one last thing that caught Adrielle's interest, something that filled her with excitement. An open window! She tried not to show her interest in it. Was the sorceress really so absent-minded? Or was this another test of her obedience?

"As you can probably see, we haven't used this room in a while. There is a duster, a ladder, and some other supplies in the closet over there. I want you to tidy up and make the room presentable. Do you know how to read?"

"No."

"That's fine. Then just organize the stray books on the table. Try to organize them by the first letter of the title if you can. I'll have one of the other servants put them away later. Maybe I could teach you to read, if you like. Many of my other servants have learned. But that would be later. For now, I'll let you get to work. Do a good job, and I may even let you dine with us tonight. I'll check up on you around noon. Good bye, Adrielle, dear."

"Yes, Mistress. Good bye."

With that, Morgana left and shut the door behind her. She found the closet with the duster and other equipment she had spoken of. Even with Morgana out of the room, she was cautious about eying the window too carefully. Could she be spying on her with her magic? No, for the time being, Adrielle would do her chores. This would also give her some time to work out her plan of escape.

First, she picked up the ladder and the duster. Adrielle wasn't nobility, so she certainly knew how to clean a room. Top to bottom. She set the ladder against the first book shelf and began to sweep the dust away. It clearly hadn't been done in a while. She stirred up a huge cloud which made her sneeze a few times.

It felt strange to be working in the nude, but at least she was alone. She had been stark naked for maybe twelve hours now, though, and she was starting to get a little bit used to it. This was easily the longest she had ever been naked in her life, and she wondered if the sorceress intended to let her wear clothes ever again. She didn't seem to bother with covering herself. Did these other servants she kept speaking of walk around naked, too?

Even if they did, the thought of dining with them like this make her more than a little uncomfortable. No, what was she thinking? She wouldn't be dining with them tonight, because she had no intention of being 'good' like the sorceress wanted. By this evening, she would either have escaped or would be suffering the punishment for making the attempt. What had she threatened: something about sticking her to a wall? Whatever that had meant...

She had to snicker when she remembered that. It almost sounded like one of her of her father's silly, idle threats. David would threaten to do comical and impossible things like rip her head off and stick it up her ass if she disobeyed a certain ground rule. Of course he only meant she would be in big trouble if she disobeyed, and these rules were always in her own best interest, too, like staying away from a certain disreputable places or not going swimming in the river that was known to sweep people away. It was actually kind of loving the way he said it. If only she had consulted him before sneaking into the sorceress' castle...

Morgana's threat, on the other hand, certainly wasn't meant out of kindness.

Adrielle moved the ladder to the next bookshelf and continued her work. She was already starting to feel like she needed a bath, there was so much dust. What would be the best way to make her escape? Morgana had somehow known when she had snuck out of the cell the first time. It was entirely possible that she had some kind of magic that allowed her to spy on her from a distance. After all, the wide open window seemed too obvious. 'Just try it,' Morgana seemed to be daring her. Or was she just that trusting of her new servant?

No, it had to be a trap. But it was a trap she had to brave. She still might be able to outsmart the sorceress. What did the sorceress expect her to do? She probably expected her to make for the window as soon as the door was shut. What would she think if she didn't take the bait? Would she let her guard down, focus her attention on something else of interest? Morgana would have to get bored of watching her after several uneventful hours!

She had mentioned she would check up on her at noon. Maybe once she came back and saw that she was still here and working dutifully, she would start to trust her. She would make her escape after that. Could she drag the work out that long? There were a lot of shelves in here, and about a thousand books to dust off. There was also the floor and the furniture. If she was meticulous enough, she could probably take that long without looking like she was sitting down on the job.

And so she worked diligently for a few hours cleaning the library. After the shelves, there were the tops of the picture frames, and a multitude of cobwebs to clear out from the corners. Working downward, she began cleaning the shelves. Some of the books themselves had accumulated just a little bit of dust on the top. She decided to take each one down to dust it off individually. It certainly wasn't necessary, but she was just biding more time. This would take her well past noon.

Strangely, the work seemed to be calming her. Despite the gravity of her situation, the task gave her something to focus on. It helped her to work out her plan with a level mind. After about an hour of this, she actually noticed herself humming quietly to herself. That was a tremendously good sign, she figured. If she was trying to pass off the appearance that she was having no thoughts of escape, the sorceress would have to have read her mind to know it! She couldn't read minds, could she? Probably not. She had asked for her name, after all.




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 01



After more time, she was even starting to forget she was naked, or at least she wasn't bothered by it. She was actually quite comfortable. As a matter of fact, she was sort of enjoying it. She was starting to like all the sensations on her bare skin: the warm air, the feeling of her skin softly rubbing against itself and everything she touched. Once she escaped, she might have to start cleaning her own house in the nude, she thought with a smile.

Before too long she was starting to get horny. She caught herself clenching her thighs and gyrating her hips like she usually did when the urge came to her. She had worked fairly hard already. Maybe she had earned herself a little break.

She lowered herself onto the ever so tempting sofa by the window. She figured that sitting her bare bottom down on such expensive furniture would have been a crime. Well, it was her host that had demanded she be naked, and nudity seemed like the norm here, so maybe it was an acceptable thing to do.

She leaned back, letting herself sink into the cushions. She savored the feeling of the silky fabric over all of her bare skin and sighed deeply. Her skin was alight with such pleasure! She let her fingertips touch the skin on her belly, feeling the tickle as she gently raked them up towards her chest. She gasped as her hands reached her breasts. She slid her palms up to her shoulders, then started back downward. Her hands went back down over her breasts, cupping them along the way, then down her sides, across the crease of her hips, then finally came to rest on the inside of her thighs.

When her hands made it back up to her breasts the next time, she paused to give her eager nipples some extra attention. She caressed them with her thumbs for a moment before allowing her thumbs and forefingers to close around them. The pinch made her gasp again as she kneaded the soft, sensitive nubs of flesh between her fingers. She tightened her grip just enough to give them a nice little pull.

Her breathing was deep and heavy now, and she could feel her vulva was making more than enough of that wetness now. It was time. Her left hand stayed at her left nipple while her right found its way downward to her vagina. Her fingers rubbed across the soft slit between her lips. She was taken by how smooth that flesh was, now. Normally she was used to feeling the hair, but her newly naked crotch felt amazing! Having no hair between her hand and the fleshy lips multiplied every sensation. Even her fingers enjoyed feeling the bare folds of skin as she rolled it between them. As an added nicety, there would be no loose pubic hairs to brush off her fingers this time once the deed was done.

Finally, she found her clitoris, which was hard and ready. She went to work on it, feeling the sensation starting to build up. She let out a long sigh of ecstasy that she hadn't intended to.

She continued for a few minutes until the sensation had taken over her whole body. She was very close to orgasm now. Suddenly, the door opened wide and the sorceress stepped through!

Adrielle shrieked and stood up from the couch, wondering if she would be in trouble for slacking off. Her legs felt shaky from her state of near orgasm, but she managed to stay standing.

"Morgana, I... I..."

"That's all right, dear. I can see you've been working hard. I'm just glad to see you're still here. Just remember, it's Mistress to you, not Morgana."

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mistress. I was, well..." She stared at the floor, ashamed, while she tried to think of anything to say.

Adrielle's face was flushed red. She wasn't so much embarrassed about being seen nude anymore. She had been naked for so long that it was starting to feel normal, however being caught in this very private activity was still quite a shock for her.

"Oh, did I catch you pleasuring yourself? Then I guess that makes us even," she said with a teasing smile. "Don't worry, you don't need to feel bad about it. In fact, let me know if you need a, you know, hand with that. Maybe a tongue? You may be my servant, but I'm not too high and mighty to see to my servants' needs, too."

"What? Oh, no. No, thank you, Mistress. I don't... I mean, I'm fine by myself."

"That's fine, I was only offering. How much longer do you need in the room?"

"Huh? Oh, the cleaning. Maybe another hour or two."

"That's fine. Take however long you need. You can finish up with yourself first, though."

Morgana left and the door closed behind her. She sat down forcefully on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. She was still so embarrassed for being caught masturbating, even though Morgana seemed to think it was a perfectly natural and healthy thing to do. Even when she remembered that escape was her biggest concern, this intrusion of her privacy still weighed more heavily on her emotions.

No! She had to get her mind set on what was important. Making sure she doesn't spend the rest of her life a slave to this madwoman was the only thing that mattered. She needed to let go of her stupid ideas of pride, or even privacy. Was it time to escape, yet? No, soon, but she would give it a few more minutes.

Her vagina was still tingling from the attention she had given it. It still wanted more. She wasn't sure if she would be able to finish after such a disturbance. She tried, though, and found that she got back into the rhythm very quickly. Within a minute she was back to the point where she had left off.

She threw her head back and bit her lower lip to keep quiet through her orgasm. It wasn't that there was anything left to keep secret. It was just force of habit. Usually when she masturbated, the idea was to not let anyone else know what she was doing, and it was her routine by now. She let out a few muffled squeaks as the orgasmic throbs overcame her. When they subsided, she let out a rush of air that she had been holding in and gasped until she had caught her breath.

She let her fingertips run up and down her bare torso a few times as she savored the afterglow of her orgasm. Slowly, she got up from the sofa and thought about what to do now. She looked out the window. It was at least an hour before noon. Morgana had checked up on her quite early. She wondered if the sorceress had been watching her and intruded on her masturbating on purpose. Was she watching her now?

It was a possibility. Well, her 'obedient' act seemed to be working on the sorceress. She seemed to trust her to at least some extend. Furthermore, now that she was finished with her naughty business, the pervert probably would be less interested in watching her through whatever magical means it had been, had that been the case. She decided she would work for another half hour or so, just to make good and sure that Morgana would be bored watching her, then she would make for the window.

When she felt the time had come, she put the duster down and stood there, listening. It was dead quiet. She went to the window and leaned her head out. She looked around and didn't see a single soul in sight. She looked up along the outside of the wall, but didn't see anyone looking back down at her. Finally, she looked back down along the castle wall, assessing its suitability for climbing. It would do.

She took one deep breath to ready herself, then swung herself over the ledge. She lowered herself down and felt for a foothold. It was a slightly different game barefoot, but she was confident enough that she could adjust to the change. She found footholds that she could support her weight, then released one hand from the ledge and found a lower handhold. Slowly and cautiously, she began to descend the stone exterior of the castle.

She could feel the wind blowing past her bare skin, reminding her of her nakedness. As used to nudity as she had become since last night, she suddenly felt vulnerable again. She wondered what it would be like having to hike back to her town without her clothes. She hated the thought, but not enough to hesitate.

After a minute or two she dared to look down. She was less than ten feet from the ground. She studied the terrain, looking for anything that might pierce her skin or sprain an ankle if she landed on it, but most of it was soft soil and grass. She released from the wall and landed hard on her hands and one knee. The impact had jarred her, but she was unhurt.

She stood up and looked around. It was all clear as far as she could see. She looked up at the castle, but still saw nobody staring down at her. It was just fifty feet to the cover of the woods surrounding the castle. All she had to do was cross the dried up moat and she would be done. She began to walk forward.

"Trying to escape, are you?"

Adrielle snapped around from the inside edge of the moat, mouth agape. There was the sorceress, standing next to the castle in the exact same spot she had landed. Had she been invisible? Had she appeared there from thin air like the goblet had earlier? Morgana was wearing nothing but her usual cloak and boots, open in the front to expose her ample breasts and obscenely large slit. She smiled an arrogant and knowing smile at her, arms folded under her breasts in disapproval.

"And to think I was almost starting to trust you. I was really looking forward to letting you dine with me and the rest of my 'good' servants tonight. You were going to meet Gwendolyn, too. She's such a charming young woman. I know you would become fast friends, if only I could know you wouldn't tell her lies to try to turn her against me or convince her to run away."

Adrielle thought about what to say. She considered asking her how she had known she was trying to escape, but held her tongue simply to keep her pride.

But then she reconsidered. She had based her entire escape attempt on assumptions she had made about the sorceress' abilities and her habits. It clearly hadn't worked. The more she knew, the better chances she would have the next time she tried to escape. Maybe she could appeal to the sorceress' pride to get her to reveal something useful.

"How... how did you get here, Mistress? How did you know I had climbed out the window?" she asked in the most defeated voice she could muster.

"I see much more than just what my eyes see. Let's say that I know where all my servants are at any moment, and you are not one of the ones permitted to leave yet. Come, back inside with you! I think it's time for you to accept the consequences of your disloyalty. As before, you can follow me on your own two feet, or I can take you along forcefully. Your choice."

Morgana turned and began walking around the side of the castle towards the main entrance. Adrielle followed willingly. Well, the sorceress had answered her, but her answer hadn't seemed very useful. If Morgana knew where she was at any given moment, how would she ever escape? Well, it was still information. Maybe she could learn more about her powers, given patience. She would find a blind spot yet.



The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 02



Adrielle followed Morgana up the stairs of her castle. Adrielle knew the sorceress was going to punish her for her second attempt to escape. After the first time she had been left floating a foot or two off the floor overnight, stark naked and flailing to grab ahold of anything but finding nothing in reach by which to move herself. That hadn't been so bad, but she had a feeling this time would be worse. She wanted to run, but it would have been hopeless. Morgana could lift her off the ground from across the room just by thinking about it. 

Morgana led her into a hallway on the fifth floor. This was the same floor she had entered through, the one with Morgana's bed chamber. However, she didn't lead her there. They finally stopped in a nondescript hallway 

"So, Adrielle," Morgana began with an eager grin, one that said she was going to enjoy what came next. "Do you remember what I said would happen to you if you tried to escape again?" 

"I think you said you would... stick me to a wall. You didn't really elaborate." 

"Oh, but I did say one other thing. What parts of you would I stick to the wall?" 

"My... my nipples... I think." 

"Good, you do remember! So tell me, Adrielle, have you ever had your nipples get stuck to a wall before?" 

"Uh, no..." 

Adrielle felt herself shudder. So Morgana had actually meant that silly-sounding threat literally. It sounded painful. She imagined her nipples being skewered by jagged hooks or crushed in tight clamps. Despite how brave she was known to be in battle, Adrielle didn't do well with pain, ironically. 

"Well, then aren't you in for a treat! I don't want to spoil too much, but one thing you might find is that it'll be a good deal harder to escape. But enough talk. Go touch your nipples to that wall over there. 

Adrielle hesitated for a moment. She looked towards the wall where Morgana had pointed, but saw nothing adorning it. It was just a blank wall. Of course, this was a sorceress that could make things appear out of thin air, make scars on her body vanish without a trace, and God knew what else? There was no telling what might pop out of the wall and grab hold of her as soon as she approached. 

"What... what's going to happen?" She could hear the fright in her own voice. 

"There's only one way to find out! Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit. Though I might remind you, pet, that you can do it willingly or I can make you. If you don't want this punishment, I'm sure I can think of something much less pleasant. Believe me; it's in your best interest to do what I say." 

"Yes, Mistress," she squeaked, defeated. 

She walked towards the bare stone wall in front of her. The stones were polished smooth marble, quite in contrast to the rough stones on the outside of the castle. She could almost see her reflection in them... almost. 

She reached out and felt the wall with her right hand. She felt the cool, smooth stone surface against her fingers, but it was still just an ordinary wall. Or at least it felt like that. Her heart was beating quickly. She was rather afraid to continue. 

She knew she had to do it. She rested her other hand against the wall and slowly thrust her chest forward. She watched as her large, pointy nipples inched closer and closer to the hard, smooth surface. Morgana's promise that it wouldn't hurt helped her a little, though she still had horrific visions of the wall suddenly growing jagged mouths and clamping down on her sensitive flesh, and other horrid things. 

At last she felt the tips of her nipples press gently against it. She gritted her teeth and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. All she felt was just her nipples touching the stone wall. Was the sorceress even going to cast a spell, or was she just messing with her head? 

She mustered the courage to pull back ever so slightly. She felt a gentle pull on each of her nipples! 

"Ahh!" she gasped in shock. She could feel the tips of her nipples clinging to the stone! Slowly and cautiously, she pulled back a little farther. The soft, supple flesh of her nipples began to stretch as she pulled. It make Adrielle think of licking a lamppost in the dead of winter, except there was no biting cold: just her nipples mysteriously clinging to the bare stone. It wasn't nearly as horrific as some of the things she had imagined, but it was a very weird feeling none the less. 

She kept pulling until her breasts were lifted up and pulled out in front of her. She felt her breasts pull taut at last, as far as she thought they could stretch. She gave a few quick jerks in a last effort to pluck her skin free of the wall. The tips of her nipples wouldn't budge! Lord, they were stuck fast! 

She brought her hands up to her breasts to feel what was going on. At least her hands hadn't gotten stuck. She pinched her nipples between her fingers and tried to work them loose that way. It didn't work; her adhered skin wouldn't even begin to peel away from the stone. She tried to work her thumbnail into the junction between her nipple and the stone, but nothing would give. 

"Well, sweetie, what do you think? Do you like having your nipples stuck to the wall?" 

"No, Mistress, it's... weird," she said meekly. Adrielle was blushing so much she could feel the heat on her own cheeks. 

"Ah, well that's too bad. But I'm still not going to let you loose. I'll tell you what: we can play a little game. If you can manage to get unstuck all by yourself, I'll let you go. It'll be your strength against my magic. Of course it won't be easy, but you might win. Maybe I'll lose you, but at least I'll get to watch a good struggle. What do you say to that?" 

"Oh... okay, I'll try." 

Adrielle started pulling again, though she wasn't surprised she had no more luck than before. Maybe the sorceress knew it was impossible. Why else would she make such a promise? She was just toying with her, giving her false hope. Perhaps it was time to fake submission again, to tell Morgana that her magic was too powerful for her. Maybe another opportunity to escape would present itself at a later time. 

Then, a horrible idea occurred to her. Horrible, but still the best option she had. Her nipples might be stuck to the wall with cosmic force, but her nipples were only so strongly attached to her. In truth, her struggles hadn't been limited by her strength, but by what she thought were the limits of her own flesh. Oh, she could escape; but she might have to leave her nipples behind. It was horrible, but would it be worth it? 

A bigger question was whether she would be able to do it. She would whimper like a little girl when the town physician wanted to bleed her, so how would she ever inflict this on herself? In the midst of battle it was different. When lives were at stake and she was in her battle rage, there was nothing she wouldn't put her body through in exchange for simple survival. But in situations such as this where she was relatively calm, and when she had time to anticipate the pain, she broke down into a nervous wreck. 

But no, this was a life or death situation! Or close to it. She forced herself to think of what was at stake: her freedom, seeing her home and her family again, everything she ever loved about her former life would be taken from her! She might never see the outside world again! Yes, she had to do it. She would do it. 

And there was the small hope that Morgana might magically heal her up out of sympathy. She had made her scars vanish, after all. 

She gave one grim, defiant look at her mistress, then took in a deep breath to prepare herself for what might be the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. The quicker she did it, the easier it would be. She clenched her teeth and quickly counted down in her head, trying to ignore the fear as it multiplied drastically with each passing count. 

Three, two, one, PULL! 

She screamed and threw herself backwards with all her strength, all of her weight behind it. She felt the strongest yank on her breasts she could have imagined, but the next instant she was pulled violently back towards the wall, just as stuck as before. Her flesh had held up to all that! Even stranger, the sudden, excruciating pain she had been preparing herself for never came. She had felt that pull like nothing else, but it hadn't actually hurt. Not a bit! 

She heard Morgana chuckle. 'Yeah, laugh to your heart's content, bitch,' she thought inside her own head. 

She tried again. 

And again. 

She struggled like an animal in a trap. She used every last bit of her strength, violently throwing herself backwards with all her weight. It was all futile! With each pull, her soft, sensitive breasts stretched farther than she ever imagined they could stretch! And each time, her flesh returned to its natural shape, no pain, and no worse for wear. 

It had to be more of Morgana's magic. Adrielle's flesh was unbreakable! Not ready to give up, she clawed at her breasts with her fingernails. Her desperate clawing didn't leave a scratch on her soft flesh. 

It was back to pulling next. Instead of thrashing around, she leaned back and pushed off against the wall with all her strength and held it for as long as she could. Adrielle's muscles tightened, making bulges that moved and flexed underneath her skin. Her breasts were stretched out into elongated cones, while the nipples themselves looked like taut ropes of pink flesh, with the tips still adhered to the bare stone wall. 

She stubbornly held the pull. "Hrrrrrrr... ERRRRRRRR!" she grunted through clenched teeth. She managed to get one knee up in front of her, and was able to push off with that, too. She managed to stretch even farther away from the wall with the added strength, but still nothing gave. 

All the while Morgana had been speaking to her in some combination of encouragement and mockery. 

"Oh, that's the way, Adrielle! Oh, those nipples are so, so stuck! But you'll get it. Pull hard enough, and you might just get your nipples unstuck. I'm sure you've almost got it, just a little harder." 

Her strength had been running out as it was, but Morgana's jeers made it even harder to concentrate on her struggle. She finally gave up and eased herself back towards the wall. She leaned her forehead against it and panted, trying to catch her breath. It was hopeless! Yes, she would have to fake submission again until a better chance presented itself. 

In a few seconds, she realized she wasn't the only one breathing heavily. Disgusted, she looked up at the sorceress to find her eyeing her lustfully. Both her hands were against her torso, rubbing herself, sensuously. Her hands weren't on her breasts or her vagina, but Adrielle judged it would only have been another minute or two. She knew what that rocking of her pelvis meant. 

Apparently Adrielle's shocked and disgusted look said all she needed to say. She immediately removed her hands from herself. Morgana actually looked a little bit ashamed. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "You must be so embarrassed to be seen like this." 

Morgana had to have been mocking her again, except her tone actually sounded sincere, oddly enough. Adrielle assumed humiliation was the entire purpose of this weird punishment. Had she had a sudden change of heart? Perhaps Morgana really did feel sorry for leering at her like that. 

"I could leave, if you would prefer it," she continued. She took a couple steps backwards, then started to turn away. 

"Wait, no! Mistress..." Morgana turned back toward her. 

"Oh? So you don't want me to leave?" 

"How long are you going to leave me like this?" 

"So you don't like it, then? Not a bit?" Morgana asked, sounding rather disappointed. 

"It's a little embarrassing." That was an understatement! She was absolutely humiliated right now! 

"Oh, that's unfortunate. Part of my hoped that you might enjoy it." 

"Enjoy this? Morg... Mistress, you've got me stuck to a wall by my private parts!" 

"Well, sometimes my servants and I play little bondage games. This is just one of the many spells I use on them for fun. Sometimes on myself when they want to play the dominant role. I let them ask me requests." 

So this was more than a punishment. Apparently, this was one of the sorceress' kinks she was being subjected to. Adrielle felt so awkward right then. She couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Thankfully, the sorceress seemed to pick up on this. 

"I can see you don't want me here, so I shall leave you. But the offer for freedom still stands. If you can pull yourself loose, you may leave. I'll give you twenty-four hours." 

"Twenty-four hours?" Adrielle shouted at, shouting with disbelief. 

"I thought it was a generous amount of time. Is that not enough?" 

"What? No, that's not what I meant! I... I can't get myself unstuck in any amount of time, and you know that!" 

"Nonsense!" Morgana replied with a teasing smile. "You and I both know how stubbornly determined you can be. If there is a way, I think you'll find it. It's your freedom we're talking about! Don't you want to go back home? You have twenty-four hours." 

Morgana turned and started to walk away from her, but Adrielle shouted after her in a panic. 

"Wait!" 

Morgana stopped and turned towards her again. 

"Why does it have to be my nipples? If this is only to keep me from escaping, can't you just stick my hands to the wall or something instead?" 

"No." 

With that, the insane woman turned and walked off. Adrielle thought of begging not to be left here like this, but held her tongue. She doubted begging would work. She was happy enough to see the perverted woman go, and the last thing she wanted to do was to keep her around any longer. At least alone, this was just an uncomfortable position to be stuck in. There was no humiliation while there were no other eyes to see her like this. 

As soon as the sorceress' footsteps faded off around the corner, she looked back to the wall. She gave a couple more tugs, though they were half-hearted, as if to pointlessly check if her breasts were still stuck to the wall. They were, of course. All the fight was gone from her by now. 

She stood there motionless for a minute, standing straight, arms hanging at her side, with only her breasts touching the wall. She took in a deep breath to calm herself. Her rising chest pulled at her nipples annoyingly. 

Twenty-four hours? Was she seriously going to be left here for twenty-four hours? She had a feeling that day was going to feel like an eternity before too long, especially once she got drowsy. She certainly wouldn't be able to sleep like this. What could she do but take it an hour at a time. 

No, there had to be something she could do. Clearly, the sorceress had meant to her an impossible challenge, something to give her just enough hope to dash to pieces. Adrielle was resourceful, though. Yes, she would do her best to think of a way to get free. She might just be able to outsmart her. Brute strength clearly wasn't working, but what other options might there be? 

So she couldn't break the bond and she couldn't break her flesh, but could she chip away at the wall? She was doubtful. The stone was completely solid with no cracks or signs of erosion. She looked around for anything within reach she might be able to chip away at the stone with, but there was nothing in reach. Even just out of reach were some harmless decorations such as a tapestry on the wall and a vase. Even if she could devise a way to get them, they wouldn't be of any help. And even if she'd had a pickaxe, Morgana could have made the stone indestructible just like her flesh. 

Pulling the whole stone out wasn't much of an option, either. The stones in the wall were huge, and the one she had chosen to stick herself to had to be two or three-hundred pounds, easy. She was a strong woman, but even if she could slide it out of the wall, there was no way she was going to make it the fifty miles back home with that thing stuck to her chest. 

Maybe she could soften the bond somehow. With nothing left to try, she pursed her lips and spit onto each of her nipples, then tried to massage the moisture in with her fingers. She worked the tight junction between her flesh and the stone with her thumbnail, but it wouldn't even begin to peel away. She spat again and tried for a few more minutes, but the bonds weren't loosening at all. She wasn't surprised, though. Maybe that would have softened glue, but she doubted there was glue or any other physical substance between the stone and her flesh. It was pure magic. Did moisture dissolve magic? She knew nothing about magic, but she still doubted it. 

Well, that was it. She had no other ideas. In frustration, she put her hands against the wall and pushed off one more time. She cursed, then gave up. She let her hands slide down the wall and dangle at her sides, then leaned her forehead against the wall with a clunk. Twenty-four hours, she thought with grim acceptance. And what would come after? What would the sorceress do with her in the long term? 

She wondered about the sorceress and her often contradictory mannerisms. She would seem to go back and forth from vicious to accommodating, and back to vicious again with no warning. The strange thing was that when Morgana had been acting accommodating, Adrielle found herself feeling strangely sympathetic to her. Was this madwoman really so good at manipulation that she could get Adrielle to feel anything but contempt for her? 

As she had expected, the hours passed extremely slowly. She had no way to gauge the passing of time. She was far enough inside the castle that no daylight was visible. There were only the torches that had been left in sconces along the wall, making day from night indistinguishable. 

Every now and then she heard noises, other people in the castle, but none so close she could hear what they were saying. At one point she heard footsteps and saw a woman round the corner and walk down the hallway towards her. It was a young-looking woman with blond hair and a youthful bounce in her step, though certainly not Gwendolyn. She was fully nude just like Adrielle, and hairless from the shoulders down. Adrielle gasped when the girl saw her, ashamed at being seen like this by a stranger. The stranger only gave her a knowing giggle, as if she was already familiar with Adrielle's situation, and quickened her pace until she had disappeared around the next corner. 

Once, Morgana returned to offer her some food. It had been hours, and Adrielle was starving by now! All she had brought were some dry bread, a boiled turnip, and some water. It was the least interesting meal she had eaten in years, and certainly a far cry from the stuffed bun that Morgana had willed into existence, seemingly without cost or effort. She ate most of it, regardless. 

"Still stuck to the wall, huh? Well, keep trying," were the only words that were exchanged. 

After some more time, she did keep trying. She gave one yank after another, each as futile as the last. She really wasn't hopeful she would pull herself free, so why was she even bothering? Was it to fight the boredom, or for exercise? Or was it to trick herself into thinking she had a fighting chance? She didn't know or care. It was no worse than just standing there. Once she was exhausted, she gave up and leaned against the wall again. 

How much force would it take to pull her off the wall, she wondered? Her own strength certainly wasn't enough. Would a team of oxen even be enough? She had no idea. Even if she could pull hard enough, would whatever was holding her flesh against the wall give first, or her magically reinforced flesh? 

She had nothing but time, so she took advantage of this time to work out a plan. Though her mind had wandered down several dead ends, this was what she ultimately came up with. 




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 02



The first thing she decided was that her mission had changed. She would still need to find Gwendolyn, but she no longer wished to kill Morgana. In truth, she felt bad for her. She was now fully confident that Morgana's strange mannerisms were genuine, not manipulative. She was centuries old, assuming all the legends she'd heard spoke of the same woman. She had been living all of her unnaturally long life in seclusion, with only a few 'servants' to keep her company. Why a woman who could conquer an army with a thought chose to live in seclusion was beyond her, but Morgana was lonely. Desperately lonely. That was why she had offered her strange form of hospitality to the woman that had just tried to kill her. She was that desperate for a new playmate, the poor monster. 

Rescuing Gwendolyn was her only quest now. However, the challenge wouldn't be in rescuing her, but in convincing her that she needed rescuing. How would she go about this? She knew of the apprehension a young woman could feel about being forced into a marriage she didn't want, not to mention anger, maybe even hatred at the parents forcing her into it. Gwendolyn wouldn't be the first young lady to flee from an arranged marriage. 

How would she convince her, tell her how much her father misses her? How great her life was that she left behind? Maybe she could point out how her suitor, as bad as he may be, still wouldn't force her to walk around naked and stick her bare breasts to a wall for hours at a time. 

Whatever she said to Gwendolyn, she would need to talk to her first. She would need to hear her story from her own mouth, and understand all of her reasons for running away before she could convince her to go back. That, however, presented another problem. She would need to get some time alone with Gwendolyn, and for that to happen, Morgana would almost certainly need to allow it first. 

Morgana had already said she did not trust her around Gwendolyn. Therefore, her next step was to earn the sorceress' trust. And how would she do that? Probably by giving her the exact thing she needed: friendship. She didn't think it would come to her having to sleep with the sorceress, as she had requested. She would avoid it if at all possible. Maybe if it had been a man, but homosexuality was an abomination. Even a despicable assassin like Adrielle had virtues. 

No, the one thing that people like Morgana craved more than sex was simple acceptance. They needed someone to talk to, someone who would hear their problems, their anguish, their guilt, and love them regardless. She had learned this from some prostitutes she had trained with in preparation for one of her killings. She had been surprised by how many paying customers they said never actually initiated intercourse with them. Here were strong, virile men, harboring men's desires, and even with a naked and willing woman in front of them, sometimes they just needed someone to hold them. Morgana was very likely one of these types. Behind the monster was a sad, lonely woman. 

So Adrielle decided she would play along, become her friend. She would dine amongst her and her servants, and smile. It might take days, or it might take months, but she would earn Morgana's trust. Then she would rescue Gwendolyn. Maybe she would be able to escape herself, eventually. And maybe, just maybe, she might even be able to help this poor monster in the process. 

... 

When drowsiness finally hit her, she tried to fight it though she had little luck. She still found herself yearning for a bed to lie down on or a chair to sit in. Standing was becoming torture. She tried to find a comfortable position, but no matter how she stood, she could find no comfort for long. Her legs ached and her eyes itched. 

Making further progress on her plan was difficult; it was hard to keep her tired mind on task. Somehow her mind kept returning to, of all things, that freakish vulva of Morgana's. There must have been over two inches of slit showing from the front angle alone, never mind how much more must be tucked between her legs. 

The thing that horrified her the most was that she was intrigued by it. She kept wishing she could get another look at it. She kept wondering that those thick labia might feel like between her fingers. It wasn't the first time she had felt some misplaced attraction to another woman's body, though she had always managed to shove it back down into the depths of her horrible mind. This time, though, the thought wouldn't leave her. 

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was actually tempted to take Morgana up on her offer, and not just as part of her quest, either. She was a wretch for even desiring it, and she had to fight the temptation. She knew the Bible distinctly said it was an abomination for a man to lie with a man. Though it technically never mentioned a woman and a woman, the implication was as plain as day. 

But she had already slept with other men for some of her hired killings. That was adultery, which was also a sin. So would this be so different? God had commanded 'thou shalt not kill,' yet people killed during war and were commended for it. Would this be so different? Surely, adultery was a lesser sin than murder, so why wouldn't it be permissible when necessary to win a war or save a life? 

That was what she had told herself all along to keep a clear head. In fact, so many of her assassinations involved bedding with her victim. In war, you used every advantage you had, and Adrielle's beauty was a powerful tool. No man could refuse an offer to bed with a woman as beautiful as Adrielle for any reason other than virtue, and the men Adrielle needed to kill tended to be men of few virtues. 

... 

Adrielle had been chosen for her first assassination precisely because of her good looks. Her first kill had been Einar the Reaver, the savage general of an invading hoard of barbarians. 

When the barbarians longships had first been seen landing on the shores just to the north of the city of Lindis, Count Bastian called for any men of fighting age to take up arms. Her father, a craftsman of no particular renown, heeded this call and became a soldier of no particular renown. The militia, now reinforced with newly trained soldiers, marched against the invaders. However, they failed to slow Einar's advance, and were quickly driven back to the city. With the defenders having retreated, the hoard descended upon the outer farmsteads and ranches, killing and plundering as they pleased. What farmers managed to avoid death or capture were called inside the walls of the castle for safekeeping. 

Einar's hoard surrounded the castle and laid siege. The walls kept them out, however with all the farmers having fled from their fields, the defenders would not be able to hold out for more than a week until they would run out of food. 

After every battle, Einar the Reaver was known to take the single most beautiful woman of his defeated enemies into his bed. Sometimes he killed them after he had finished with them, sometimes he let his men have their way with them afterward. Regardless of what he did with them, they never returned alive. 

Adrielle, a mere nineteen years at the time, was very likely to be that woman once the castle fell. When Count Bastian called for one brave girl to be given over in the guise of an offering of surrender, Adrielle bravely volunteered. It would be their last chance to slay Einar the Reaver and save Lindis. 

Before sending her to her death, Count Bastian first asked her father if he would permit this. His lord or not, David had flatly refused the Count. However, Adrielle insisted that he let her go. He had gladly volunteered his life to defend the people of Lindis, and had considered it an honor. Why then, should she not do the same, even at their most desperate hour, she asked him? 

David was still not convinced. He said that while there was no shame in dying in battle, he would not see his own beloved daughter raped and mutilated for the amusement of sadistic barbarians, not even to win the war. 

"But Father, did our Lord Jesus die bravely in battle? No! They killed him in the most degrading way they knew how! He didn't just bear the pain of a spear wound. He bore shame and humiliation! His suffering was drawn out for days! They hung him up for the whole world to laugh at him! But nobody questions His bravery or His honor. 

"And if I don't do it, the same thing will probably happen to me anyway, along with every other girl in Lindis. Please, let me kill Einar!" 

David was a devout Christian, and after Adrielle had invoked the glory of their savior, he knew he could not deny his daughter that same duty that he had so eagerly accepted. Tears running down his cheeks, he bade her luck and prayed that the Holy Spirit stay with her. That night she was sent to Einar's tent with her best gown and a tiny blade, one of her father's meant for cutting cured leather. She had decided to hide this blade inside her vagina in case they searched her clothing or stripped her naked before presenting her to their general. 

Einar had taken one look at her before he was overcome with lust. Forgetting all caution, he took the then frail girl into his tent and threw her down on the bed. He ripped her gown to shreds without a second thought. Adrielle thankfully managed to remove the tiny blade from herself and hide it under the pillow before he was inside her. 

His enormous hands clenched her upper arms as easily as another man's hands might fit around her wrists. He grabbed so hard that he bruised her arms. He was rough with her. It hurt Adrielle, but she didn't mind. She gave herself willingly. As monstrous as he may have been, Einar was as handsome as the devil, and she had just a little lust for him as well. It was the thought of victory that steeled her resolve the rest of the way. It was the thought of her, meek little Adrielle, dealing the killing blow that would end a war that helped her to endure this ravaging. 

After Einar had had his way with her, and she had almost had her way with him, he collapsed onto the bed beside her to catch his breath. He didn't live long enough to catch it. While the beast was in the midst of his post-coital stupor, Adrielle quietly fetched the knife from under the pillow. She flicked off the makeshift scabbard that had protected her most intimate flesh from the deadly blade, and ran it across his throat. It had been sharpened to work hardened leather. She felt so little resistance as it passed his throat that she briefly wondered if she had cut him at all until she saw the fountain of blood spurting from his neck. 

Einar's eyes grew wide with terror! Not wasting a moment, she threw a pillow onto his face to muffle his screams. She knelt on top of the pillow, hoping to smother him with her bodyweight. Though his thrashing arms caught her already battered body a few times, she held on for dear life. If he had gotten up, he might well have strangled her to death with his sizable hands before he bled out. 

Thankfully, his arms eventually grew limp and settled down onto the bed next to his twitching body. Though her heart was pounding like never before, Adrielle sat as still as a cat and waited for her death to come. But Einar's guards never burst through the tent flap as she had expected. Perhaps his muffled death screams hadn't sounded much different from the war cries he had shouted as he had fucked her but a minute ago. 

She forced herself to move. Wearing nothing but her stockings and a copious amount of Einar's blood, she climbed off the bed on trembling legs. She didn't dare to exit through the main flap, so she cut a small eyehole in the rear of the tent. The way was certainly not clear, but at least nobody seemed to be watching the back of the tent. She cut herself an opening large enough to crawl through. As an afterthought, she grabbed Einar's tunic that he had thrown on the ground and ran for her life. What happened next was a blur in her memory. 

Einar's warriors noticed her almost immediately, though most of the rear guard of the siege hadn't been highly alert. There were surprised shouts in a language she didn't understand, and savage men were pursuing her with intent to maim and kill. She felt hands grabbing her and things hitting her, but she struck back with her knife, with her elbows, with her teeth, anything she had at her disposal. The hands fell away and she resumed her flight from the barbarian camp. 

Before she knew it, she was past the outer perimeter. She sprinted aimlessly into the black of night, hoping the shadows would hide her. She was barely aware of the moment their shouts of anger suddenly shifted to cries of anguish. She realized only after the fact that this was probably when they had discovered their dead general. 

The next thing she knew, she had collapsed next to a tree in a thicket with no idea how she had arrived there. The next moment she became aware of Einar's tunic still clutched in her left hand with a death grip. Apparently, she had neglected to actually put the thing on. 

She set the tunic and her knife down on either side of her. Though it was nearly pitch black, she was able to find a few wounds she hadn't realized were there. A couple of them were deep, though none of them serious. These must have been inflicted on her during her flight from the tent. 

Slowly, painfully, she got to her feet again meaning to find out where she was. She scanned the horizon and made out the walls of Lindis at least a mile away. Had she really run so far? Her flight had seemed like mere seconds! She heard no sounds of her pursuers. Had she evaded them? 

As the battle rage subsided, a sense of euphoria started to overcome her. She had won! Not just won, but survived! She had bested gigantic brutes of men, all of them extensively trained in combat and not the least afraid of a bloody death. But she hadn't beaten them with strength, or with skill, or even with bravery. She had beaten them by clinging to life harder than they had, by refusing to die. It was what had made her volunteer in the first place, and it was what had driven her during her battle. She had beaten the fierce barbarians of the north with the sheer, primal instinct to survive at any cost. And she loved it! 

Despite her tremendous pain, she couldn't help but grin. That grin begat a jovial laugh. She grabbed Einar's bloody tunic. Was it her blood it was caked in? His? She couldn't tell. She raised it over her head like a battle trophy and let out an animalistic shriek, almost an echo of Einar's shouts of conquest from earlier. 

She eased herself back down onto the ground again and rested her back against a tree. She must have been delirious from her ordeal right then, because one more thing suddenly entered her notice. Einar hadn't quite finished what he had started with her. Her womanhood still tingled with some of the pleasure she had felt earlier. She slid her free hand between her thighs and massaged herself the rest of the way to orgasm, all the while laughing with that same mad euphoria. It was far from the best orgasm she had ever had, although even a good orgasm might have been drowned out among all the extreme emotions she was feeling right then. 

A new woman was born that night inside of her, baptized in blood. 

The next morning, Adrielle staggered back through the gates of Lindis, wearing that bloody, oversized tunic. They cheered, lauding her as a hero, as she returned to the city she had saved. Her loving mother and father, however, didn't seem to believe it was her at first. Partially, it was because neither of them had dared to even hope that she might return alive. But also, she did not seem like the same girl they had raised from infancy. Something had been so fundamentally changed in her, and not all for the worse. 

As soon as her parents' uncontrollable sobs of joy had subsided, they told her of what had happened during the rest of the night. Driven into a bloodlust by the deceitful act that had felled their mighty general, the invaders had launched a final and fierce offensive, meaning to crush the defenders of Lindis before the sun rose again. However, these barbarians were ill experienced in siege craft, and broke themselves against the walls of Lindis in their rage. The survivors had retreated back to their ships in defeat. 

Adrielle was a hero now. She was no longer just the daughter of a humble leatherworker, nor even one of the prettiest girls in Lindis. She was a warrior through and through. She had vanquished Einar without ever having trained in combat. How formidable might she be with training, her townsfolk wondered? She was accepted to train with the city guard in the ways of melee combat, and the formerly frail and timid girl soon became a strong, athletic woman. 

However, she never mastered the fighting arts as some had hoped. All that could be said was that she kept pace with most of the students, but she did not excel. The calm, studious atmosphere of the training yard never reproduced the primal rage that had awakened her that night. She was a woman driven by instinct. She never got to the point where her instructors felt she could confidently take on a well-trained opponent in a fair fight. 

Thankfully, fair fights weren't what assassins were about. Her true edge came from instinct, resourceful thinking, and quick wit. Within five short years, she had been assigned a total of fourteen assassinations. Of those fourteen targets, eleven of them were now dead by her hand. She had tracked down and killed wanted murders, bandits, deformed monsters, and had infiltrated a doomsday cult. During those quests, she had been beaten, stabbed, shot by arrows, clamped in irons, and even bitten by an ogre. Yet she had escaped alive from every quest, even the few that had gone afoul. And she had always recovered to fight again, despite the injuries she took. 

Compared to all the abuse she had endured during her last fourteen quests, she really wasn't in that bad of a situation right now. It seemed hopeless, yet she knew she would find a way. She reminded herself of the abuse she had suffered before. The sorceress' attempt to subdue her by humiliation were nothing compared to what others had done to her. Her will hadn't been broken before, and it wouldn't break now. 

Yet there was something different about this mission than all her previous ones. Of the three missions she had failed, two of them she had aborted because her gut told her to, and only once had her target managed to outwit her. 

Morgana, her fifteenth target, would be the first she would spare out of pity alone. But she still had to go to work on her. The same skills she had used against her previous victims would be more needed now than ever before. She still had to get herself and Gwendolyn out of Morgana's lair. She would have to gain Morgana's trust so she could betray her. 

This sudden sympathy she was starting to feel for her captor could become a liability. That, and her abhorrent attraction to her. She had finally decided she would have to sleep with Morgana, and her greatest fear was that she would enjoy it. 

... 

After what seemed like an eternity, Morgana returned a second time. Adrielle had been leaning her forehead against the wall with no concept of how much time had passed. Groggily, she raised her head and looked at her. Morgana hadn't brought her cloak and boots with her. She was just naked as Adrielle was, and didn't seem to mind a bit. 

"Well, your time is up, and it looks like you don't get to go free. Although by the looks of it, you've given up a long time ago." 

Adrielle, as tired as her mind was, still thought out her words carefully before speaking them. She would act as if she had been beaten, as if she saw no other choice but to submit to Morgana. 




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 02



"I tried, Mistress, but your magic is too strong. I couldn't pull myself off the wall." 

"I'm glad you see that now. Disobedience will get you punished, but behaving will give you rewards! My magic can do so many wonderful things! All you have to do is ask! Through me, the rest of my servants live a life of luxury and pleasure, and so can you if you're good. So what do you think, Adrielle? Will you be good?" 

"Yes, Mistress." 

"And will there be any more daring escapes?" 

"No, Mistress." 

"Good." 

Without even a gesture from the sorceress, Adrielle's nipples suddenly popped free from the stone. Her breasts fell away from it and swung back and forth for a moment before coming to rest at their natural hang. 

It felt so wonderful to be free again! Adrielle took a step away from the wall that had held her captive. She brought her hands up to her chest and felt her nipples. She could feel nothing unusual about them at all, no sign of them having been irreversibly bound to anything. The spots on the wall where she had touched her nipples were equally unblemished. 

Out of curiosity, she gave one of her nipples a pinch. She felt some pleasure, but no pain. She pinched harder, then gave it a merciless twist. She felt her flesh stretch and twist under her fingers until it grew as taut as a bowstring, but there was no pain or injury. 

"I kept the spell that protects your flesh from harm. I'll remove that, too, if you want." 

"No, it's fine as it is, Mistress." 

"I won't let you meet the rest of my servants just yet. I still don't trust you completely, but I will give you free roam of the fifth floor. You are not to descend until I tell you otherwise, but once you prove yourself as obedient as you have promised, I shall allow you all the privileges the rest of my servants enjoy." 

"Mistress, how long will it take until I can prove myself to you?" 

"Hmm, I really can't say. But you must be exhausted by now! And famished! I have a guest room not far from my own where you may sleep. But before that, if you need anything to eat or drink I shall happily provide it. Would you care for anything?"  

"Yes, Mistress. I am hungry. That... what did you call it, a pasty? I would love another one right now. And... maybe some wine? Do you have red?" 

"Of course! Come!" 

Instead of producing these items out of thin air and waiting for her to finish, Morgana led Adrielle to a guest room nearby. It wasn't as luxurious as Morgana's own room but it was leagues better than any room Adrielle had ever slept in before all the same! 

The motif was similar to Morgana's chamber, just on a smaller scale. The furniture consisted of dark mahogany and deep red velvet. The bed would have been wide enough for her to lie sideways on. There was an ornate vanity with a large mirror, a large-backed armchair facing a fireplace, and a bookshelf with several books. 

As soon as Adrielle entered, all of these sights paled in comparison to the aroma that suddenly hit her. Against the near wall was a small table with two chairs. In front of one of these chairs, a place was already set with polished silverware and a delicate lace placemat. Atop an ornately glazed plate was another pasty, just as she had requested not a minute ago! Next to it was a pile of steamed vegetables covered in butter and herbs, and a goblet full of ruby colored red wine. 

Adrielle's suddenly felt so hungry it almost hurt! She sat down on the chair. Despite her hunger and tiredness, her mind still spared a moment to regret having to sit her bare bottom down on such fine furniture, though she supposed that a magician that could heal years-old scars on a person's flesh could probably remove stains from upholstery. 

She picked up the pasty; it was warm just like last time, and bit into it. This time it was filled with lamb, potatoes, and peas, and flavored with saffron. She had never even tasted saffron before; she only recognized it by the yellow hue it had stained the filling inside. 

Still chewing, she picked up the wine goblet. It was so huge it might have held an entire bottle, and it certainly held enough wine to put Adrielle out for a good, long time. As soon as she had washed down her first bite, she turned to the sorceress to thank her. 

"Of course! It was Sasha that gave me that recipe. You can thank her, too, when you meet her. She is an artist when it comes to food!" 

Recipe? Adrielle had assumed that Morgana had simply summoned these delicacies into existence. But perhaps someone had to make it the conventional way the first time. However, Adrielle was too hungry to ask another question, so she filled her mouth with a second bite instead. 

As she was chewing, Morgana made to excuse herself. "When you are finished, you may sleep in that bed as long as you like, or explore this floor at your pleasure. I shall be back before nightfall so you do not stay idle indefinitely." 

Adrielle hurried to finish chewing the second bite so she could reply. "Wait, Morgana! I mean Mistress!" 

"Yes?" 

"I've changed my mind. I... well, I would like to sleep with you." 

Morgana's surprise showed quite clearly. "Really? You know I don't expect it of you. You don't have to do it to prove your loyalty to me." 

Morgana said that, and she may have meant it, Adrielle understood. However, Adrielle needed Morgana to trust her more than just enough to let her join the rest of her servants. Adrielle needed Morgana to confide in her, to trust her so deeply that she might share her every secret with her, maybe reveal a weakness or two. And for that Adrielle knew she could spare no effort. 

"No, I want to. It would please me, Mistress! You are beautiful, and I do desire you!" 

"Oh!" 

Morgana's face flushed just noticeably. Morgana, the near omnipotent sorceress, centuries old, with a harem of servants to pleasure her, blushed for Adrielle. She couldn't help but feel a little proud for herself. 

"Then perhaps I don't have anywhere to be after all," she said, and sat down in the other chair facing Adrielle. She conjured a smaller wine goblet for herself, as well as a platter full of plump grapes and cubes of white cheese in the middle of the table between them. She began to snack while she waited for Adrielle to finish. 

Morgana took small, polite nibbles as any proper lady would have. Adrielle, meanwhile, wolfed her food down. She knew this was poor table manners not to engage her host in conversation, but Morgana didn't seem to mind. Besides, her wits weren't about her, considering she hadn't slept in almost thirty hours. She would need to have a sharp mind once she started 'grooming' the woman. Telling lies required such memory! 

"If you don't mind my asking, what changed your mind?" Morgana asked once Adrielle had slowed down. 

Well, perhaps Adrielle could do a little talking right now. She would keep it simple. 

"You were my enemy, or at least I thought so. They told me you were a wicked woman, 'a blight on the world,' they said. But I see now that they were wrong. You showed me mercy, and I... well... I really appreciate that!" 

That wasn't entirely a lie. Stripping her naked and sticking her to a wall for twenty-four hours bordered on psychological torture. Still, she had to admit it was a far cry better than Einar the Reaver or any of her other victims would have done. And absolutely none of them would have offered her forgiveness or hospitality! 

But was it really hospitality? Adrielle had a feeling that Morgana was, in fact, 'grooming' her as well; grooming her to become her new plaything. She seemed sincere enough, if extremely odd, but Adrielle knew she couldn't afford to take that at face value. 

"I want you to know that I don't take it personally, what you tried to do," Morgana replied. "Many have tried to kill me before. Men fear what they cannot control, and they spread lies about me. I think they're trying to make me into something deserving of the death they wish upon me. I'm glad you could see I'm no monster." 

In truth, Adrielle hadn't made up her mind about Morgana's status as a monster. Only time would tell, once she got to know her. 

When Adrielle had eaten her fill, Morgana returned the remains of this small feast to wherever it had come from, and invited her to her own chamber. By now, Adrielle could barely keep her eyes open. She wasn't sure how well her lovemaking would be in her current state, but she would do her best. 

"Are you sure?" Morgana asked as she pulled back the corner of the bedspread and gestured for Adrielle to climb in. 

"I am," she replied softly, and wrapped her arms around her in a sensuous embrace. She was immediately ashamed of how wonderful Morgana's bare skin felt against her own. It was warm, smooth, and as soft as silk! She wished she could just melt into that beautiful skin right there. 

Instead, she kissed her briefly on the lips and climbed into bed. The silk sheets felt almost as good against her skin. The down mattress and pillows were so soft she nearly sank into them. Morgana climbed in after her. She lay down on her side facing Adrielle, her head propped up with one elbow. Morgana gazed into Adrielle's eyes warmly, awaiting her request. 

"Just one request, Mistress..." 

"Yes? What is it you wish, love?" 

"No magic, please. Not this time. I've never lain with another woman before, so this is strange enough for me as it is. And I want to..." 

"Yes?" 

"I want to experience the real thing. I want my first time to be natural." As soon as she had said it, she realized the irony of her words. Two women sexually engaging each other wasn't the least bit natural, with or without magic. She kept this thought to herself, though. 

"Of course! I think just our natural bodies and souls will be more than enough. If it's your first time, I'll make it easy for you. Just do whatever you want to me, anything you think will feel good. Have your way with me! My body is yours tonight." 

Adrielle had never been with a woman before, so she didn't really know where to begin. The men she had slept with in order to assassinate had been fairly easy. She had only laid back and let them do their thing, assuming she held any interest in the act at all. The targets that she didn't desire, of course, she killed the moment they were alone. 

She had also lain with two men she had known personally. She had had a few romantic interests at various points in her life, two of which she had regrettably allowed to progress into sin. Those deeds had required a little more on her part, but most of it came naturally to her, and her partners had been more than willing to teach her the rest. 

Right now, however, she found herself at a complete loss. They didn't have parts that were designed to fit together, there was no man to take charge, and worst of all was the knowledge of how abhorrent this act was to the Almighty. She knew she had sinned with her previous lovers, but that was a sin that so many people committed. As to this mockery, this desecration, of the act of love, she doubted that even doing it for such a noble purpose as saving Gwendolyn and herself could be justified in the eyes of God. 

She knew, deep down, that this might not be necessary to save the girl. She desired it. Could her soul ever be saved from such a sin? She didn't care. 

Adrielle's eyes fell away from Morgana's, and drifted downward over her beautiful curves. Her plump breasts, her rosy nipples, her wide hips. And then, finally, to her crotch with that deep, tempting crevice. Morgana's legs were together, and every time she shifted, her thighs squeezed those puffy folds of skin. 

"Do you like it?" Morgana asked her? 

"Huh?" Adrielle's eyes darted back towards Morgana's, and she blushed. 

"My vulva. It's really something, isn't it? I'm well aware it's my best feature! Why do you think I show it off all the time?" 

Adrielle laughed, embarrassed but intrigued. "Yes, I do like your, um... vulva." She tittered again. "I've never seen one quite like that. It's impressive." 

"I admit it isn't my natural look. I may have enhanced it with my magical powers. You may look as long as you like. I don't mind, in fact I enjoy it! Or you may touch it." 

Morgana invitingly lifted up one knee in invitation. Even with her legs partially spread, the fleshy lips remained together, continuing to make that smooth crevice that Adrielle found so alluring. 

Adrielle was shy, but she reached out her hand. She hesitated once, looking into Morgana's eyes to make sure it was okay one last time. Morgana smiled back. Adrielle let her fingertips brush against those lips. They were so soft and warm! She smiled embarrassingly and looked down briefly, though her hand remained. She overcame her shyness, and looked back at Morgana's vulva, eyes wide with fascination. Her mouth formed a grin, like a child seeing her new favorite toy for the first time. She ran one finger up and down her crotch, tracing the length of the slit. 

"There you go," Morgana encouraged. "Do whatever you want. I don't mind." 

Adrielle finally allowed herself to do more than just a light touch. She let her fingers close around the plump folds of skin, feeling their give, kneading the sensuous flesh between her fingers. It felt nothing like her own vagina, but she loved playing with it all the same. She finally got the courage to work her fingers in between those lips. They yielded to her touch willingly, inviting her fingers deeper in. She sank two fingers in past the first knuckles. It was so warm inside, and already getting damp. 

Adrielle felt the inner lips, much smaller than her own, and located the clitoris. Suddenly, Adrielle's insecurity faded away. Why had she felt so uncertain of what to do? She knew this part very well! She began rubbing Morgana's clitoris, just as she had done with her own so many times before. Their vaginas may have been shaped differently, but everything worked the same. Morgana thrust her hips forward, inviting her to continue. 

Adrielle's drowsiness was subsiding thanks to her arousal. Her own vagina was starting to tingle. She let her left hand find her own clitoris and started rubbing. She usually masturbated with her right hand while her left took care of her nipples, but her left hand was certainly up to the job. Morgana would get the good hand tonight. 

A vagina for each hand, Adrielle thought to herself with a bit of humor. She did more than just rub, though. She pinched, she groped, she explored. She let her hands feel all the differences and all the similarities between their bodies. Both women were breathing heavily. 

After a couple of minutes of that, Adrielle slowed down. There was more she realized she wanted to do. Morgana had so many more amazing features she wanted to explore. She took her hands away from their vaginas and rolled over to get her face near her breasts. They were huge! She caressed them with her hands, squeezed them, lifted them up, feeling their consistency and their weight. 

"Are these also magically enhanced?" she whispered to her. 

"Of course! I can give you a pair like this, too, if you want." 

"Maybe later," she said with a smile. 

"Yes, later. No magic tonight, as you requested." 

She let her thumbs rub over Morgana's nipples, which were already quite erect. There felt just a little smaller than Adrielle's, but they were still something to behold. These seemed to be Morgana's only features where Adrielle had her beat, and not by much. 

She realized right then that she wanted to explore Morgana's body with more than just her hands. She had no more reservations on acting on her every impulse. She was in her comfort zone. She thought back to how her lovers had treated her before, remembering how good it had felt to have her nipples sucked on. Maybe she should see if Morgana likes that, too. 

She leaned in and brought her lips close to her left nipple, barely touching it, pausing long enough to let Morgana feel her breath on it. She let out her tongue and gave it a gentle lick with just the tip of her tongue. A couple more licks, then she tightened her lips around it. She sucked, drawing the nipple inside her mouth. She was careful to keep her teeth away from it, just her lips and tongue touching it. She heard Morgana sigh with pleasure, and felt her fingers tighten on her shoulders. Morgana seemed to like that. 

Adrielle pulled her mouth away with a wet pop, and did the same to her other nipple. She worked at her breasts and loved every moment of it! She felt Morgana's hands slide off her shoulders, and a moment later felt one of those hands glide between her thighs. She briefly looked down and confirmed that the other hand was on Morgana's vagina. Both hands went to work. Morgana's technique felt quite different than Adrielle's, more advanced, in fact. Adrielle usually just rubbed the outside of her crotch quickly and vigorously until she orgasmed, but Morgana's hand wasn't focused on only that one final goal. Morgana was seeing to the journey there, as well. Her fingers explored every nook and crevice, stimulated every nerve. Morgana's hand wasn't just stimulating her, but also caressing her... loving her. 

Adrielle was lost in that sensation and forgot about Morgana's nipples for a moment. She looked up. Their eyes met for the first time since they began their lovemaking. Such beautiful eyes! Adrielle could see the pleasure on her face, but Morgana still managed to smile warmly up at her. She bit her lower lip in a way that Adrielle found so charming! 

Adrielle just had to kiss those lips! She scooted up and leaned in. Morgana saw what she was doing and lifted her head up from the pillow to accept that kiss. Their breasts pressed together, and then their lips met. She kissed her deeply and didn't stop. She savored Morgana's soft lips against hers, her warm skin against her own, her fingers creating such wonderful sensations. 

Even in the throes of passion, Adrielle realized something silly just then. She had progressed in the exact opposite way from what she had come to believe was proper. When they had started, Adrielle had gone straight for Morgana's sex parts, then had moved up to her breasts, and only after that had she bothered to give her lover a kiss. She thought it might have been a faux paus, but Morgana hadn't seemed to mind a bit. And she loved Morgana for that! Morgana had said to just do what came naturally to her, and she had. 

Now that Adrielle had moved up to eye level with Morgana, Morgana had just a little more reach. Morgana slid two fingers inside of Adrielle's vagina. Her two fingers started to caress the front wall while her thumb continued to rub her clitoris. It felt so good that she gasped uncontrollably. Her mouth fell away from Morgana's in a wide O. 

Adrielle so rarely ever inserted her fingers inside herself, but this felt so good she might just have to start. Morgana was amazing! Adrielle was nearing orgasm now, and Morgana seemed to sense this. Her fingers sped up their work. She was going for the kill now, Adrielle thought to herself. 

Adrielle sat up on her knees and moved up to give Morgana better access. She was now straddling her midsection. She realized she was completely neglecting Morgana's needs, but Morgana didn't seem to mind. In fact, Morgana seemed to be enjoying this just as much as she was. She began caressing Morgana's breasts again just to be doing something. 

Very soon, she felt herself on the verge of climax. She reared her head back and cried out with pleasure. Her hands clenched around Morgana's breasts, tightly enough she became conscious of hurting her. She forced herself to ease up. 

"Don't worry, love, you can't hurt me," Morgana said between her own gasps. "Grab as hard as you want. Twist, pull, it won't do a thing to me." 




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 03



Adrielle drifted into that twilight of half-wakefulness that so often follows a restless sleep. She had just been dreaming, but her dream was already fading away. Whatever pivotal task she had been struggling with mere moments earlier was now so distant in her memory she could barely remember what it was. With her dream retreating, reality was trickling begrudgingly back to her. Where was she? What time was it? Had she slept in? 

This wasn't her bedroom, in fact she was lying in a bed much more comfortable than her own. She could see daylight coming through a narrow slit window. It was long past morning. As soon as she moved, she became aware of the warm body in front of her, held dearly in her arms. 

Morgana! All at once, that slow trickle became a breaking wave as reality finally came crashing back to her. No, she was not home at all, and she didn't know if she would ever return home again! The powerful sorceress in front of her was holding her captive within this castle, and what had Adrielle done about it? She had befriended her captor and committed abominations with her! 

"Ah, you're awake now!" Morgana whispered, warmly. "Do you feel rested?" 

Adrielle only groaned groggily. She made to get up, but found her right hand was pinned somewhere on the other side of Morgana's body. Morgana briefly raised one knee, long enough to free Adrielle's hand. That last memory returned to her, almost as a final insult, reminding her of the extent of her sin. She had fallen asleep with her hand cupping that impressive mound of Morgana's as tenderly as she might have held a lover's hand. Morgana had accepted the touch gratefully, but it had been Adrielle who had offered it in the first place. Had she seriously spent all night with her hand against another woman's private parts? 

"What time is it?" she muttered, sleepily. 

"Well into the evening, I believe. The servants should have supper ready soon, if you're hungry. Or you can stay here and sleep longer if you like. You've only been asleep for four or five hours. I wouldn't blame you if you needed more than that... especially after your ordeal with the wall." 

Adrielle recalled it had been early afternoon when Morgana had caught her in her second escape attempt. Her punishment had been to stand with her bare breasts magically affixed to a wall for a full twenty-four hours. It had been a full day of standing in one position, unable to move, sit, or sleep. That would have made it early afternoon of the following day, when she was finally released and allowed to sleep. But before she had gone to sleep... 

"Did we commit a sin?" 

Adrielle rolled to the edge of the bed. She meant to stand up, but was suddenly reminded of her nakedness as soon as she brushed the sheets aside. But as badly as she wanted to cover herself, she wanted to get some distance between her and the sorceress even more, so she stayed at the edge of the bed away from her. She sat hunched over in order to keep her front side somewhat concealed, not that there was anyone in front of her to see. She squinted, trying to keep her sleep-heavy eyes open. Even sitting, the room seemed to wobble around her. 

"What?" Morgana replied with an amused laugh, almost as one might respond to a child that had said something adorably nonsensical. "Of course we didn't, love. At least you certainly didn't." 

Adrielle felt the bed shift as Morgana got up. She heard her sigh as she stretched. Adrielle only stared at the floor in front of her feet. 

"You think so? I mean, the Bible says it is an abomination for a man to lay with a man. It doesn't say the same about two women, but I always thought it was supposed to apply to us, too." 

"Adrielle, love, it's not a sin for men to fuck each other, either. That book has ruined so many people's lives. I've studied it, too, but you shouldn't take its words literally. Forget what that old book says. What does your heart tell you? Mine tells me what we did was natural and beautiful!" 

Morgana's last few words had sounded sincere enough, but Adrielle still felt hurt. She wanted to believe that they had done nothing wrong, in fact she almost did believe it. 'Natural and beautiful...' That was certainly how it had felt to Adrielle at the time. She didn't want to believe she had committed a grievous sin by simply following her heart. 

Yet the core of her faith told her that she had sinned. Ruined lives? Perhaps, but she had also seen so many lives made better through its teachings. Her whole life had been devoted to this faith, and it hurt her deeply to hear it denounced so dismissively. 

But had she really devoted her whole life to Christ? What she had just done may have been her worst sin, but it was far from her first. Though she had never taken a husband, she was no virgin. Even discounting the villains she had lain with in order to kill, she had already taken two lovers in her life quite voluntarily. She couldn't pass those flights of passion off as necessary acts of war like she could her contract kills. And even then, did she really have to have sex with them first? The unattractive ones she usually just killed as soon as she could. It was only with the handsome ones she would wait till after the deed had been done. One way or another, she had some things to repent for. Repent or face damnation, the good book told her. 

Adrielle forced her mind to stop wandering. She looked around to Morgana, who was waiting in the doorway of her chamber, still stark naked. One elbow was propped against the doorframe. 

"Will you come to dinner, love? My other servants are eager to meet you." 

Adrielle groaned, rubbing her eyes. She hoped she could pass off her sudden bout of shame and self-doubt as simple grogginess. 

"Or you could sleep more, if it pleases you." 

"I'll meet them," she said, and stood up. Her hands wanted to grab for her clothes as she normally did when she woke up after sleeping nude. But this time there were no clothes for her. The ones she had worn sneaking into the castle had been ripped to shreds by one of Morgana's spells, and she wasn't certain there were any other clothes in this entire castle except for that cloak that Morgana sometimes wore. 

Well, she had gotten used to nakedness yesterday, and she could certainly get used to it again if she tried. At long as everyone else was naked, it wasn't like she would stand out. She resisted the urge to take the sheets with her. Morgana probably wouldn't have let her anyway. She made the decision to be proud of how she looked and followed Morgana. 

*** 

Morgana led her down to what Adrielle figured to be the second floor. As she entered the corridor, she could already just make out the sound of laughter and revelry. After turning a few corners, they passed a gigantic set of double doors and entered a great dining hall. Despite her best efforts, she became quite conscious of her nakedness all over again. Morgana had forbidden her from covering herself, but she absent-mindedly crossed her arms tightly just underneath her breasts. Even though she was still fully exposed, the stance seemed to comfort her somehow. 

The instant Adrielle stepped through the doorway, her mouth fell open in shock and amazement! Fires roared in four hearths spaced around the perimeter of the room, with tall flames dancing higher than a man's height. The fading sunlight of a cool summer evening poured through large windows on three of the four walls. She hadn't noticed any windows of this size on the lower floors of the castle when she had first snuck inside. Those windows must, therefore, overlook the courtyard. 

Ornate tapestries hung over the walls, each depicting vibrantly colored scenes of long-forgotten heroes, kings, and gods. The styles were so varied they might have come from all corners of the world, and from every age of human history! One depicted a scene she recognized from the ancient Greek myth of Arachne, who was turned into a spider as punishment for insulting the gods. Another appeared to be of a French design, and seemed to depict the Battle of Roncevaux from the Song of Roland. As to the rest of them, she could barely guess after their origin or meaning with her meager peasant's education. 

There was a great table laid out with the most decadent feast Adrielle had ever set her eyes upon! There were giant slabs of glistening meat, roasted birds, pies of all sorts, and more varieties of fruits and vegetables than Adrielle knew existed. There were entire casks of wine, ale, and mead. Adrielle recalled the few feasts that Count Bastian had invited her to, and even these feasts were modest compared to what she saw before her. 

But all of these sights, as awe-inspiring as they were, only occupied Adrielle's thoughts for a mere moment, for nothing in that great hall was as peculiar as the attendants of this feast themselves. There were perhaps two dozen men and women around the table, and each of them as naked as a newborn baby! She had already suspected Morgana's courtiers walked around in the buff, but actually seeing it was a different matter altogether. She had to stifle a laugh, this scene was so absurd to her! She uncrossed her arms and covered her mouth with one hand. 

She counted only six, no, seven men in total. The rest of them were women. Each of these men and women were beauty incarnate! They were youthful to the last; none of them appeared to be outside of their twenties or thirties. They had clean, gorgeous hair, flawless complexions, and the bodies of athletes. They were like the statues of Greek gods come to life! Was this more of the sorceress' magic that made them so perfect in appearance? 

Even their lack of attire aside, their table manners would have made any of Bastian's prim and proper courtiers die of shock! They were engaged in an orgy of debauchery like animals! At the near end of the table, two of them were engaged in intercourse so violent that the woman of the couple was hitting her head against the chair back with some of her partner's thrusts, though she seemed not to notice or care. A few onlookers cheered them on with raucous enthusiasm. 

At least one of the onlookers was masturbating, stroking himself almost as vigorously as the lovers in front of him were fucking. One woman seemed just as intrigued by this solo act as by the duet that had everyone else's attention. 

In another chair nearer to the center of the table, a woman laid back and cooed pleasurably while another woman suckled at her breasts like a hungry infant, back and forth between the right and left teat. 

But almost odder than even this abhorrent display was the sheer nonchalance some of the other attendants had to it. The ones seated at the far end of the table were engaged in casual conversation, seemingly unaware of the wild sex orgy occurring not twenty feet from them. This was normal to them! Wanton fornication was as common a way to entertain themselves as singing tavern songs was for the folks back in Lindis! 

As Morgana entered the dining hall, several of her servants regarded her with a 'Good evening, Mistress,' but little else. The pair in the throes of passion and several of their onlookers didn't even look up. 

"I tell them to address me when I enter the dining hall," Morgana whispered into her ear, "though I suppose some of them are busy and I do hate to interrupt. I try to maintain some formality here, but why stress it too hard?" 

"Uh... yeah..." was all Adrielle could say in response. She was just too overwhelmed by too many things to respond with much more. This lewd display, her nakedness in front of so many strangers, the idea that she would be joining these barbaric folks for supper... 

"You can sit at the head of the table with me tonight for your introduction if you like," she continued. "Don't be nervous, I'm sure they'll love you as you are. They'll treat you as family if you so much as attempt to treat them likewise." 

Morgana directed Adrielle to sit at the chair to her left, then sat herself down in the large-backed chair at the head of the table. "We'll wait until Sasha and Michael are finished, though," Morgana said with an amused grin, gesturing toward the pair at the other end of the table. "This delectable feast you see before you is mostly Sasha's work, so I think she's earned a minute or two." 

No sooner than Adrielle had taken her seat, her eyes met the gaze of bright blue eyes directly across the table from her, which instantly widened in recognition. She wished those eyes hadn't recognized her, because she wasn't sure she was quite ready for this meeting, not as awkward as she was right now. 

"Adrielle Tanner!" Gwendolyn exclaimed with an excited grin. "Then it was you! I'd heard we'd gained a new guest by the name of Adrielle, but I dared not even hope it was actually you! What are the chances?" 

Despite Gwendolyn's nakedness, she appeared more stunning than Adrielle had ever seen her before! She sat with perfect posture, her breasts unabashedly displayed above the table. Her famous golden locks hung past her cheeks in perfect curls. Her skin was fair and without blemish, her cheeks blushed with a healthy pink, and her lips shone ruby red as was typical of a noblewoman's makeup. However, these colors had more of a natural look than she ever remembered seeing before, as if Gwendolyn's skin just grew that way. 

She wore lavish jewelry that neither Morgana nor any of her other servants wore. Hung about her neck and covering her collarbones was an ornately webbed silver necklace, studded in diamonds that sparkled like the sea as she moved. Around her arms she wore bracelets and armlets of a sylvan motif, looking like silver vines and leaves wrapped around her arms, studded with crystal dew drops. Above her forehead she wore a silver tiara, embedded with pearls, sapphires, and jet, and so intricate she could scarcely imagine an empress wearing its like. Gwendolyn appeared so regal it was like she wasn't even naked. 

"Ah, Gwendolyn!" Adrielle answered, as cheerfully as she could manage. What should she say now? That she had come to wrest her from Morgana's clutches at her father's behest? Best not, not with Morgana right between them to hear their every word. She decided she would only continue making small talk as if she were just another new resident here. 

But when she tried to continue, she only paused. No words came to her. The loud sounds of lovemaking were only part of the problem. 

"It's okay, Adrielle, dear! Are you a bit overwhelmed? I was too when I arrived here and witnessed this for the first time. Oh, I must have stared with my jaw agape! Isn't this amazing? To think all we've been missing out on growing up in such a dull place as Lindis..." 

Adrielle forced herself to say something, anything. "Yes, this is quite..." 

Unspeakable? Abominable? Ungodly? 

"Quite new to me," she finished. 

"And you've barely even seen a thing, yet!" Gwendolyn added. "There are so many naughty things I can't wait to show you!" 

Suddenly, Gwendolyn noticed something that caught her interest. "Oh, watch! I think he's about to spew!" She said this with her perfect, courtly smile she always seemed to wear. 

Gwendolyn pointed to the man who had been masturbating near the other end of the table. Adrielle tried not to look, but found herself powerless not to. He was grimacing in a way that even she couldn't have mistaken. 

"Cuthbert, don't make a mess all over the nice tablecloth," came a deep, powerful voice with an exotic accent. "Here, let me help you with that!" 

Another man, with tawny skin, chiseled muscles, and a trim beard knelt down in front of the masturbator. He opened his mouth just in time to lick the seed from the end of his penis as it came pouring out. He swallowed, then arose and gave Cuthbert a deep kiss on the lips. Cuthbert licked his own semen off the other man's lips as if it was a delicacy. Adrielle's stomach turned, yet she still couldn't look away. It was absolutely disgusting! Yet at the same time... 

"Oh, I could look at that all day long," Gwendolyn whispered to her. 

Adrielle finally managed to return her eyes to her acquaintance across the table. Gwendolyn was gazing at the pair of men with a wide grin, biting one corner of her lower lip. Adrielle was rather relieved to see both of Gwendolyn's hands still on the table in plain sight. 

Adrielle was speechless. She tried to think of how to respond to what she had just witnessed, but couldn't think of a single thing. She couldn't even make eye contact with Gwendolyn for more than a moment. Her mouth hung open as she stared past Gwendolyn at a nondescript spot on the far wall. 

"No, not your thing?" Gwendolyn observed. "It's all right; whatever you're into, Morgana can make it happen! We don't judge here. We love each other for our individuality! Nothing but open minds here." 

Adrielle still couldn't find any words. Open minds? How had the Lord not rained fire and brimstone down upon this castle and its inhabitants? She had never even heard of such unbridled sin! 

At that point, Michael and Sasha sounded like they were finishing up with their deed, too. As soon as they were good and finished, Morgana stood up and spoke. 

"Servants, thank you for waiting on me. I know I was a bit late, but I was seeing to the newest member of our household." Then, she whispered more quietly to Adrielle. "Would you please stand up so your new family can see you?" 

Her new family? She wanted her old family! Even so, she did as she was bade and stood up. Suddenly, she felt even more naked than before as all of Morgana's court eyed her up and down. Nothing was hidden from them. She forced her arms to stay at her side and tried so hard not to be bothered by it. She reminded herself of the fact that she had nothing they didn't see every day. It helped a little. 

"This beautiful creature is Adrielle! I understand she is a friend of Gwendolyn's from their past life. In fact, she tells me she came here to 'rescue' this poor girl from me, thinking I had kidnapped her." 

This produced a few snickers from the audience. 

"But do not hold that against her! This only because she had grown up to the same lies the outside world tells about me and our kind. Adrielle is compassionate and wise, and once she had met me herself, she saw those lies for what they were. Now, she's one of us!" 

Adrielle forced herself to smile at her 'new family.' She lifted up an imaginary skirt and curtsied. She felt so silly doing it, but she had no idea what else to do. She didn't dare open her mouth to speak, lest her voice betray how terrified she really felt. Her introduction seemed to be finished, so she graciously sat back down. That had been mercifully short, thank the Lord! 

"Well, it seems the girl is shy, and I can't really blame her. But no matter! We shall have the rest of eternity to get to know her, besides! So, shall we eat?" 

"Thank you, Mistress!" they all cried with some degree of unison. 

They immediately began to stuff their mouths with the feast laid out in front of them. She had thought her fellow militia trainees had bad table manners but Morgana's servants had worse. Regardless, their laughter and merriment would have put any of the taverns in Lindis to shame! Barbarians they may have seemed, but they loved each other! She suddenly found it harder to hate these strange folk. 

The woman in the chair next to her turned and offered her hand. "Adrielle, it's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Cateline, and this is Guarin." She gestured across the table to the man next to Gwendolyn. Guarin removed an invisible hat from his head and bowed. 

"We were childhood friends who grew up in France, Cateline and I," Guarin began. "Mistress Morgana found us about two hundred years ago. Is that right, dear?" 




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 03



"Two-hundred... that sounds about right." Neither of them seemed to have a foreign accent, Adrielle noted, however she figured that two hundred years away from their birth place could erase a person's accent easily enough. 

"We were fleeing from our fellow townsfolk, who had accused us of witchcraft and devil worship. Completely untrue, of course, but a nosy tax collector did happen to catch us exploring one of our, well, interests at the time." 

Guarin paused, and his eyes met Cateline's with a shy grin. 

"Guarin, dear, don't be modest on my account," added Cateline. "I'm not ashamed of a thing we've done together. Um, we were carving designs into each other's flesh. It was my idea, actually. We thought it might be fun to make beautiful art on each other's bodies, to feel the contrast of sweet romance and sharp pain. We haven't done that in a while, but we enjoyed it much. It was intimate." 

They smiled at each other again. Guarin continued. 

"But, yes, the tax collector must have thought we were trying to hide from him when he came knocking, so he made his own way in. He must have taken what he saw for some satanic ritual. There had been a crop failure that year, and I suppose they wanted someone to blame it on. The next thing we knew, we were accused of witchcraft and hiding from an angry mob. I imagine they wanted to burn us alive. Hang us if we were lucky." 

"I remember when I found them," Morgana reminisced. "Yes, I had been traveling in France when I caught wind of this witch hunt. I've seen how these things turn out, so I made sure to find them first." 

"And we'll never forget it, Mistress," Cateline thanked her. 

"You'll find that's a common thread with the outside world," Morgana continued. "When bad things happen, people want someone to blame. A mob will demand justice for any great misfortune, even where no fault exists. A blight, and earthquake... It's as if they think burning someone alive will somehow make up for everyone else's loss. 

"And of course, it's always the odd one out they pick: the one who's different from the rest. So I do what I can to rescue these poor victims of society when I see them. Most of these souls have similar stories of how they were betrayed and cast out by their own kin for the crime of being different, for wanting to live as their true selves. 

"Hassan, our newest besides Gwendolyn and yourself was to be beheaded for homosexuality. Sasha was to be stoned to death after her wedding when her husband found she was not a virgin. In fact, nearly half of the women here, in fact, were cast out for wanting sexual freedom. Gunter was exiled for broadening his horizons beyond the human species. That was one of Amalia's many charges, now that I think about it." 

"Ask her about the bacon grease," Gwendolyn interjected, with a humorous grin. 

"Victimless crimes, all of these," Morgana continued. "Society labeled them as perverts, as deviants, sinners, what have you, and sought to persecute them for failing to conform to their way of life." 

"So, tell me, Adrielle," asked Cateline, "do you have a story like that? I guess you came here seeking your friend, Gwendolyn, but our mistress did take you in. Clearly, she saw something good in you." 

"No, nothing quite like that," Adrielle responded, simply. 

What should she say? She was no fugitive needing protection, no pariah seeking a home. She had a few secrets of her own. None of them were remotely as bad as bestiality, but even so, she was thankful to keep them as secrets. 

In a sense, this made her the odd one: the only normal one in a house of misfits. In fact she was a prisoner here, not a guest. She had a loving home to return to, but had been forbidden by this oh-so-merciful sorceress. Of course she couldn't say that without risking sounding insolent, and then it might be right back to that wall. But then again, Morgana already knew the truth, so telling a lie was also out of the question. She would have to choose her words carefully. 

It was that moment that Gwendolyn chose to interject and save Adrielle from having to make a story, though whether Gwendolyn's bluntness made things better or worse, Adrielle couldn't say. 

"Adrielle, I've been thinking. You were kind of an odd choice for a rescue mission. You were Father's favorite assassin, after all. Your craft is ending lives, not sweet-talking runaway daughters into returning home. Father knew we were friends, but I have to ask..." 

"Gwendolyn, please..." she begged quietly through clenched teeth. 

"No, it's all right, Adrielle," Morgana said matter-of-factly. "I hadn't mentioned that part so as not to embarrass you, but I suppose it would have to come out sooner or later. We might as well get it out of the way now. Yes, Gwendolyn, she had been sent here to kill me. 

"This is just more of what I was talking about earlier. Men need someone to blame for their misfortunes, someone to punish. In this case, Gwendolyn's father blamed me for her disappearance when in truth he had only himself to blame. And I may well be the oddest-one-out there has ever been, so vilifying me should have come easily for such as him. Whether he truly believes I took her against her will, I cannot say, but it was nonetheless the justification he gave Adrielle when he sent her to kill me. 

"And if you must know, I don't blame you for believing that falsity. There are too many lies and half-truths about me to count, so how could you have known what I am really like? You are far from the first to attempt to slay me or my servants. However, you have distinguished yourself from them by letting go of these lies when offered the truth. Most of my other would-be assassins... they were not so fortunate as you. They hadn't been blessed with minds as open as your own." 

"Thank you, Mistress." What had befallen these others, Adrielle wondered? She hoped their deaths had been swift. 

Once again, it was Gwendolyn who asked the very question Adrielle least wanted to be asked. Was she doing that on purpose? No, of course not. She was just curious. 

"So why have you decided to stay with us? You were well-respected back in Lindis. You are no outcast, nor are you running from selfish, tyrannical parents. But Morgana makes it sound like you are one of us for good now! Is this true?" 

Gwendolyn seemed to have an inconvenient tendency to point out the vague spots and inconsistencies in her story, accidental or not. Adrielle was relying on Morgana's delusions to have any chance of escaping: chiefly the delusion that Adrielle loved and respected her. The last thing she needed was for Morgana to be reminded that she might feel anything but grateful to be held here. 

There was no sense in dancing around the truth at this point. "I'm... not exactly free to leave," she said under her breath, but making no attempt to prevent Morgana from hearing. 

"It's not so simple as that, Gwendolyn," Morgana explained to her. "She has seen the inside of our world. She knows we are here. I go to every effort to hide our existence, but eventually they always find out. Don't mistake me, Adrielle; I'm glad to have you among us, but the fact that you were able to find my castle from rumors alone means the outside world knows more about us than I would like. If someone who has seen us with her own eyes were to relay that story to the outside world, there's no telling what could happen." 

"I see," Gwendolyn replied. "So if... Wait!" Gwendolyn's eyes widened with sudden realization! "What about me? Does that mean I can never leave, either?" 

"What? No, no, my sweet, beautiful thing! I would trust you with my life!" Morgana proclaimed, defensively. "I know you wouldn't betray me. But surely you wouldn't want to leave, would you? Not back to your greedy father? Not after all the things I have given you!" 

"Of course not, Morgana," she replied, sweetly. "Not forever. But someday I may wish to visit my old home, though perhaps only to make them envious of all the wonderful things you have given me!" 

Adrielle was getting frustrated with the course this conversation had taken, despite her better efforts to keep it to small talk. Therefore, she was much relieved when Cateline broke the uncomfortable pause with a simpler question. 

"Adrielle, aren't you hungry? Everyone else is gorging themselves, and you've barely even touched your food! Morgana can conjure as much as we could ever desire, so there's no need to eat sparingly." 

So far Adrielle had taken one small slice of roast onto her plate. She had cut one single forkful, though she still hadn't eaten it. She had been feeling hungry, though she wasn't in much of a mood to eat. She forced herself to place it in her mouth. 

As the juices trickled over her tongue, she realized that perhaps she did have an appetite after all. She quickly finished the slice on her plate, and reached for a second helping. As she did so, she finally thought of something to say. 

"So, I thought Sasha over there cooked all this stuff, but you're saying that our Mistress conjures it with her magic." 

"They are both true, actually," Morgana explained. "My magic can easily recreate anything I have seen before, though I find if much more difficult creating new things. And when you have lived for hundreds of years, exact copies of the same food can start to bore you. Sasha really enjoys cooking! She loves to experiment and try different techniques, so I conjure whatever raw ingredients she asks for and leave her and her cooks to do as they will. They have yet to disappoint me." 

"And this conjured food, it is the same as real food? Or, I mean, food that grew naturally on a farm and such?" 

"It is identical in every way! There were ancient Greek philosophers that postulated that material cannot be created or destroyed, and I suppose that might hold true for the natural world. But magic can accomplish things that would otherwise be impossible. To create something from nothing is its most amazing trick, beyond a doubt!" 

Adrielle's face brightened with a sudden idea. "Morgana! Mistress! You could feed a kingdom with these powers! You could end starvation! Surely they wouldn't fear you after that!" 

"Really, you would share all of this?" Gwendolyn said with a scoff. 

"I've actually tried that. But it is the nature of mankind to fear what is not like them, and to envy what is not theirs to control. You'll find this nature is so strong, so ingrained, that it will even outweigh their need for food and drink. Do you recall what they did to the goose that laid the golden eggs?" 

"But that was just a fairy tale..." 

"Yes, but even fairy tales have some truth to them. Oh, and what about in the Bible you believe so strongly in? Didn't your lord Jesus use his divine power to feed the hungry? Look what they did to him in return for it. Believe me; I have no desire to share his fate." 

"Share his fate?" Gwendolyn piped up, incredulously. "Adrielle is as deadly as a viper! If you survived her blade, then you simply can't be killed!" 

To demonstrate, Gwendolyn arose, gripping her knife in both hands, and brought it down violently against Morgana's stomach. Morgana shrieked, more from surprise than from fright. The soft flesh of Morgana's belly caved inward under the point of the knife, though it never broke her skin. The blade snapped in two without leaving so much as a mark on Morgana's skin. 

"Gwendolyn!" Morgana protested, clearly offended. She picked up the halves of Gwendolyn's knife and held them together, then placed the once again whole knife back on her plate for her. 

"What? I was just proving a point. You can't be harmed by any weapon! None of us can!" 

Meanwhile, the rest of the table had grown silent. Adrielle looked and saw the shocked expressions on the other servant's faces. It didn't take magic for Adrielle to understand what was going through their minds. They knew if they had tried a stunt like what Gwendolyn just had, Morgana would have punished them horribly! 

"Don't mistake me; I'm not trying to advocate we give this wealth away to every peasant who claims poverty," Gwendolyn continued. "I'm just saying we needn't isolate ourselves out of fear. So what if they want to kill us? We can't be killed! We could be ruling them! You could be the Queen of the World! And I would be your crown princess!" 

Guarin stood up and tried to coax Gwendolyn back into her seat. "Gwendolyn, we aren't as invincible as you might think. It's not easy to harm somebody under our Mistress's enchantments, but it's not..." 

"Oh, be quiet, Guarin!" Gwendolyn retorted, rudely. "Morgana can do anything she wants!" 

Gwendolyn knelt on the floor next to Morgana's seat, put her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on her knee like a begging puppy. 

"Gwendolyn," Morgana spoke softly, stroking her hair. "It's not just about whether we will be safe from harm. I know the world is terrible out there, but I won't be making it any better by becoming its tyrant. I don't want to start a war, and it's not just fear of my own death that..." 

"Tyrant? You'll be their god! They'll worship you!" 

"I am NOT anybody's god!" Morgana scolded her, suddenly infuriated. Gwendolyn seemed to be taken aback. Morgana must not raise her voice to her precious crown princess very often. 

"And there are limits to my power," she added, more softly. 

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Gwendolyn pleaded, batting her eyelashes. "You can be whatever you want to be to them. Maybe just start with one village and see how it goes. Or if you don't want to, give me some of your powers and let me do it! I can make them love me; I'll show you how! Pleeeeease?" 

Gwendolyn began kissing Morgana's skin, starting with the knee she had been resting her chin on, worked her way up the thigh, then up her belly and finally to her breasts. She suckled on Morgana's nipples for a few seconds. Morgana sighed pleasurably. Adrielle felt an odd pang of jealousy as she watched this. 

Gwendolyn stared up at Morgana with begging eyes. Morgana sighed a second time, though this time it was out of annoyance. 

"Love, I've been there again and again. It has never ended well. It will be the same for you. They will fear us and they will resent us. They won't love us." 

"But people do love me! Everyone in Lindis adores me for my beauty, and you have made me even more beautiful with your magic! Adrielle, dear, what do you think? Wouldn't I make a wonderful princess?" 

"I think you should listen to experience, Gwendolyn." 

Gwendolyn shot Adrielle a hurt look. Adrielle responded by glaring back sternly. Gwendolyn looked to Morgana again, but found the same stern look there, as well. She harrumphed and returned to her seat with a pout. 

"Gwendolyn, why don't you tell Adrielle about some of the things we do for fun around here?" Morgana suggested. Adrielle had to hand it to Morgana for distracting her so easily, because Gwendolyn's pout became a grin almost instantly. 

"Well," she began, "most of our entertainment involves Morgana's magic. She's sort of the master of ceremonies in that regard. In the short two weeks since I've been here, I've experienced things I might not have dreamed of before! She can change your body around! Did you notice my breasts? She made them bigger for me! 

"Oh, and she gave me a cock! Now I know what it's like to have a cock and plunge it deep into a woman! No, I don't have it now, I mean. She gave me my pussy back, but it only takes her a few minutes to do the transformation. It feels really weird to have your body changing like that, but it's well worth it!" 

Her eyes suddenly lit up! 

"Adrielle! She could give you a cock after supper, and you could fuck me with it! I'd let you do that." 

"Um, I'm not sure how I feel about having a... a penis." 

"That's all right, then. She could give me one and I could fuck you with it. Or we could have sex as we are. You can still have fun with a pair of cunts! You know what, you pick! What would you like to do?" 

"Gwendolyn, I don't know..." 

"Don't worry, it doesn't have to be that, either. Look, if you can think of it, Morgana can probably do it. And if she can, I promise to at least give it a try. The truth is, everyone has a strange little kink, and every new person that's joined us has brought something new to try. I doubt you could suggest anything that will offend anyone here. They've done it all, and I can't wait to try even half the things! 

"You can fuck while floating in the air. Maybe you'd like me to be twice your height, or have three breasts! And because we're invulnerable, we can do things that would kill a normal person! Or if you like pain, she can disenchant your flesh, and you can hurt yourself as much as you like. As long as you're still breathing, she can heal you completely right after. I've heard one of them wanted both her arms chopped off one time, just to know what it felt like! She ended up passing out, but when she woke up she was as good as new! I mean, I don't want to do that one, but all I'm saying is you can do almost anything you can think of! She can make you piss wine! How would you like to drink wine from a man's cock? Isn't that crazy?" 

That last description made Adrielle snort with laughter. 

"Wait, seriously? She can make wine come out of a man's penis?" 

"Yes, dead serious!" she responded, grinning ear to ear and nodding enthusiastically. "I hear it stings a little, though, being the provider." 

"It's easy to do," Morgana explained, suddenly joining the conversation. "I told you I can create things like food and wine out of nothing. I just conjur it inside of somebody's bladder instead of in a bottle. After removing any urine, of course. I've been asked to do stranger things for them." 

"See? She can do almost anything you can think of! What do you think? Do you want to fuck after supper? Or just play around? Just spit out any crazy idea, and watch the impossible happen!" 

"I'm sure she can do some amazing things. But, no, that's not it. It's just that I don't know how I feel about... having sex with you, Gwendolyn. We've only met a few times before. I mean, I think we're friends, but I haven't ever had sex with somebody I was just friends with." 

Adrielle, almost involuntarily, glanced over at Morgana. Adrielle thought Morgana's face showed a hint of flattery. No, it was something more than that. Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt as she remembered what they had done earlier that day, but tried not to let it show. 

"Oh, come on," Gwendolyn pleaded. "You can drop your prudish morals already, or haven't you noticed our relaxed dress? Don't tell me you actually believed that self-righteous garbage the preachers in Lindis fed us! Live a little; have some fun!" 

"Gwendolyn! Consent!" Cateline cut in, "If she doesn't want to, leave her alone. We don't judge people here for the things they enjoy, and we also don't judge them for things they don't want to do. Guarin and I are the only monogamous couple in the castle, but nobody gives us any hassle for it. There are plenty of things to do here that don't involve sex. You could show Adrielle the library, or the Roman bath, the sculpture gallery..." 

"I'm sorry, Adrielle," Gwendolyn apologized with a friendly smile. "That was unbecoming of me. I'd be happy to show you anything in the castle after dinner, or we could just catch up." 

Gwendolyn said this with such warmth, though Adrielle could have sworn she saw her shoot Cateline a dirty look. 

*** 

The rest of the meal was uneventful. Adrielle made small talk with Gwendolyn, Cateline, and Guarin, and a few of the other servants introduced themselves to her, though Morgana remained mostly silent. 

As soon as she had eaten her fill, Adrielle excused herself. She was the first to leave, though she didn't care. She still wasn't fully rested from her latest punishment, but that wasn't the problem. The idea of Gwendolyn showing her around the castle didn't interest her a bit this moment. She just wanted to be alone. 




The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 03



She made her way back to the room Morgana had prepared for her, and found the bed still made and ready for her. She pulled the sheets back and climbed on top, not bothering to pull them over herself. For the longest time she just laid there, resting her head on her crossed hands and staring up at the ceiling. 

She was in such a terrible mood right now! It was spiritually draining having to pretend to be a welcome guest while knowing deep down she was a prisoner here. It might not have been much longer before she wouldn't have been able to maintain her smile. And if she had lost her temper... well, she wasn't eager to find out what her next punishment would be. 

But it wasn't even Morgana, her captor, who was the source of her anger. No, it was Gwendolyn, she was starting to realize. She hated Gwendolyn! Before meeting her at supper, Adrielle had decided speaking to Gwendolyn alone would be her next task. Now, she wasn't so sure. The two of them had been fond acquaintances, at best, and it appeared that Adrielle had judged her far more favorably than she deserved. 

But why was she so angry at her? What about Gwendolyn had set her off? The way she sucked up to Morgana to win undeserved favors? Her complete abandonment of the family that raised her? She went over the dinner conversation in her mind. She recalled Gwendolyn showing off her new breasts and jewelry Morgana had given her, recalled the girl's fascination with the masturbating man, her descriptions of some of their stranger forms of entertainment. Oddly enough, none of these things seemed to bother her, or at least not enough to account for her current mood. But then she recalled how dismissive Gwendolyn had been to her suggestion of using Morgana's magic to feed the hungry. That was when she felt that cringe of revulsion in her stomach flare up anew.  

'Really, you would share all of this?' Gwendolyn had said incredulously, as if Morgana's limitless wealth would be wasted on the needy. 

Yes, that was the source of her current anger. She thought about Gwendolyn laughing that practiced, delicate laugh of hers as she consciously disregarded the needs of countless peasants in exchange for those pretty trinkets that adorned her beautiful body. How could a loving god award such a wretched person such beauty? Gwendolyn had the makings for a perfect tyrant: greedy, uncaring, prideful, vengeful. The only thing she was lacking was power. Give her that, and you would have exactly the sort of person that Gwendolyn's father used to send Adrielle to kill. 

She thought about all she thought she had known about her from before: her prim and proper mannerisms, her boundless love for all her family's subjects. Now look at her: selfish, reveling in sin... It takes more than two weeks to corrupt somebody so thoroughly. All that she thought she had known about this young countess had been an act. The Gwendolyn everyone in Lindis loved and adored was fake! 

So how had Gwendolyn become so spoiled? Could it be this was a reflection of how her father had raised her? Count Bastian was hardly the best lord in the world. He kept his county from falling apart, and that was about it. True he had driven away the barbarians that had come to take Lindis, although his efforts might have been for naught were it not for Adrielle herself. A weak ruler he may have been, but he had always struck Adrielle as a good man, a good husband, and a good father; and those were things that could not be faked. Perhaps Gwendolyn had found wickedness all on her own. It's rare, but sometimes bad people are just bad people. 

Suddenly an idea came to Adrielle that made her grin. The exact sort of person Count Bastian used to send her to kill... Maybe she could take Gwendolyn up on her offer to fuck her. She would sleep with that wretch, use her, have her way with her. And as soon as she had gotten her fill, she would slit the bitch's throat like so many villains before her. 

But that was just a fantasy, and a dark one at that. Assuming a blade could even cut her flesh, she had to remind herself that Gwendolyn hadn't actually committed any crimes yet. All she had done was run away from home and have some fun. Once Adrielle returned her home and told her father the truth, he would punish her as any decent father would punish a misbehaving brat. 

But there was the real problem. She had no idea how she would get Gwendolyn back home to Lindis. To say her quest had been compromised was an understatement. She hardly knew what her quest was anymore! 

Her original quest had had three simple goals: kill Morgana, find Gwendolyn, and escape alive. As to the first, she had already decided she didn't want to murder the poor woman, assuming she even could. Guarin had alluded that there were ways to kill Morgana and her servants, but even if she found out how, it would be a last resort if it was a resort at all. 

The second goal was more problematic. It was hard to rescue a woman who was perfectly happy where she was. Even convincing this wretch to go home willingly might have been impossible. There was a good chance she would need to take her home by force. 

That brought her to the part about escaping alive. Never mind trying to sneak two people, one of which kicking and screaming, from the sorceress' clutches. Even getting herself out would be hard enough. Morgana seemed to know where she was at any instant, and could appear out of nowhere in the blink of an eye. If she failed another escape attempt, at best she would end up stuck to a wall again. At worst... well she didn't know how many more times she could betray the sorceress' trust before that trust was gone forever. What would become of her then? 

No, she would have to make her next attempt count, and in order to outsmart her she would need to find out exactly what her capabilities were. She would have to be patient. It might take weeks, months, even years, but she wouldn't make her move until she was certain to succeed. That would be more than enough time to decide if Gwendolyn would be worth bringing with her. 

She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Sometime in the near future she would have to overcome an omnipotent sorceress who could control her like a puppet, and the only tool at her disposal was her own naked body. It would be tough, likely the toughest thing she had ever done. And if she failed, what then? Would she live here forever, unknown to the rest of the world? 

Soon, sleep found her. 

*** 

Adrielle dreamed vividly that night. 

In her dream she was riding across a great grassy plain with her father, both of them galloping their horses swiftly toward whatever lay over the horizon. She was wearing a leather doublet he had lovingly made for her. Her dreams weren't normally so vivid, but in this one she could feel the exquisite softness of her father's leatherworking, could smell that distinct smell of freshly worked leather that always reminded her of home. 

As they rode, he imparted his fatherly wisdom to his beloved and only daughter. She had no idea where they were riding to so urgently, nor did she ever remember what his actual words had been in that dream, but she knew they were words that would help her to live the best life she could, help her be the best person she could, maybe even words that would save her life someday. Words that would help her to stay strong, compassionate, and above all, faithful. 

*** 

Adrielle awoke, feeling revitalized. She sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to remember the dream. Even though she was disappointed that it hadn't been real, simply seeing him had lifted her spirits. 

She knelt at the edge of the bed and said a brief prayer, the first she had said since she had been captured. It was a simple prayer. She asked for strength, courage, and guidance. When she opened her eyes, a sudden thought came to her. Was this thought the voice of God answering her prayer? Probably not. More likely the act of praying had helped to clear her mind, but it was what she had been praying for all the same. 

She remembered that following Christ wasn't really about all the things you weren't supposed to do. It was about the things you were supposed to do: being compassionate and helping those in need. As long as you do those things, your sins can be forgiven. Was that something her father had told her? She didn't remember, but it was certainly something he would have agreed with. 

Adrielle stood up. She felt so joyful right now she almost laughed out loud. Whether it was the dream, her prayer, or just finally being rested again, she had finally left her fears, her doubt, and her self-imposed guilt behind. That thing she had done with Morgana didn't bother her anymore. She had enjoyed it, and so what? If it was a sin, and it didn't feel like one to her, she could repent for it later. There were things she needed to do. 

In fact, she was starting to get the funny idea she had been brought here for a reason, and that reason might have had more to it than just rescuing Gwendolyn. What, then? Perhaps she would find out in due course. 

As for now, it was time to get to work.