“It was my hope that I would give you pleasure. Mistress,” came the answering whisper of a male, one who was obviously a slave. His arm rose from the floor cloth to the dark shape above him, his hand reaching out with purpose, quickly drawing a gasp of pleasure from the warrior who rode him. “Forgive me, Mistress,” he whispered as quickly, his hand retaining its hold. “I mean no insult by touching you so. This lovely breast beneath my fingers drew me so strongly that I could not resist it. How I wish I might be allowed to give you even greater pleasure.”
“Greater pleasure?” gasped the warrior, nearly lost to the sensations of her body. “How might such a thing be possible?”
“It would be possible if I were to be allowed to move more freely,” said the male, his voice coaxing as his hips rose gently from the floor cloth, drawing a moan which underscored the effectiveness of the motion. “Should you allow yourself to be placed briefly beneath me, your pleasure would easily be increased twofold.”
“Beneath you?” echoed the warrior, attempting in vain to duplicate the sensation which the male had given with the thrust of his hips. “I have never had a male in such a way. Would it truly increase my pleasure?”
“Beyond all doubt,” said the male, and then were his arms about the warrior, holding her close to his body. “Should I fail to serve you so, I would be remiss in my duties. Slay me if you must, yet first I shall give you the pleasure that is your due.”
The male, with one hand at her back and one hand upon her bottom, then rolled quickly to place the warrior beneath him, her possession of him immediately becoming the reverse. The warrior gasped in surprise, her body beginning to struggle in his arms, yet all sound ceased as his lips took hers, a different motion beginning as the male rose to his knees and thrust himself more deeply than he had heretofore been allowed to do. A frenzied moaning began in the throat of the warrior as the hips of the male drove harder and harder, a moaning refused freedom by the lips of the male, a moaning continuing for long reckid and then increasing till her frantic movements were abruptly ended with a deep sigh, a sign the male understood. He withdrew his lips to allow her the breath she required, slowing the thrust of his hips, reaching instead to her breast with his tongue to force a great shudder from her.
“Mida sustain me!” whispered the warrior fervently, her hands upon the broad arms of the male, her body twisting in faint protest against the sensations again building within her. Well she knew that the male had not yet allowed himself to attain release, and therefore would again send her to the reaches she had only just returned from.
“Do you wish me to cease?” asked the male quite softly, his lips moving upon the breasts of the warrior, his hips continuing the thrust of his manhood. “Should you insist that I withdraw I shall do so, for I am a slave and bound to obey. Are you so displeased that you would send me from you?”
“No!” gasped the warrior, grasping the arms of the male as her body opened more fully to his penetration. “It is my command that you continue as you have been doing! I demand that you serve me!”
“Indeed,” murmured the male, slowing his movement despite the writhing of the warrior. “I will, of course, obey all commands given me to the best of my ability, yet it seems that I must soon allow myself release. Should this occur, the Mistress will be left with great need unseen to, and I, wretched slave, will undoubtedly be soundly punished. Perhaps, Mistress, this slave might be allowed to suggest a solution to the dilemma.”
“Do not withdraw so far!” begged the warrior, struggling in vain with male strength to return him to her. “Do not yet allow yourself release! Mida protect me, I cannot bear to be left so!”
“It need not be, Mistress,” whispered the male, again thrusting deep within her. “The Mistress will find herself well seen to, should this slave be given her word that he will be freed from his slavery and this city. I ask no more than to be released unharmed, to go my way quickly and in peace. Speak now, wench, for I mean this slavery to end in one manner or another. Should you wish service, I must be freed to be on my way; should you refuse, I shall find another to serve so.”
The warrior, well beside herself with need, choked upon the words which she could not bring herself to utter. To give her word under such conditions would destroy her as a warrior, an agony I knew far too well to doubt. The male seemed well aware of the fact that the warrior would not speak of the shame given her even should she refuse, yet was he ignorant of the memories of she who stood within the shadows and listened. Such memories are not easily forgotten, the seeking of a sworn word in an instance where others sought naught save pleasure. So had Jalav once been done, yet Jalav was no longer captive to males, to be used as they willed and kept without weapons. Jalav was free, to do with males as she pleased.
Silently and easily did I move from the doorway, allowing the door to fall closed in a gentle swing, the silence of my natural tread aided yet further by the depth of the floor cloth, in two paces arriving behind the back of the male. He, attempting to force the sworn word of a warrior, knew naught of my presence till my left hand had taken him by the hair, forcing his head back exposing his throat to the point of my dagger.
“Should you fail to see to the warrior beneath you, your life is no more,” said I in a murmur, pleased with the candlelit gleam of the dagger blade at his throat. “You now perform for your life, male, therefore do I advise the exhibition of great skill.”
“I cannot!” gasped the male, frozen in the position to which I had pulled him, fear clearly to be heard in his voice. “In the name of the Serene Oneness, Mistress, I beg you to ease back with that blade! One breath closer and I am gone!”
“You are unable to see to my warrior?” I asked in the mildest of tones, retaining the dagger where I had placed it. “A pity, male, for now she will need to seek the use of another. Do not fail to give my greetings to Mida when your eyes open once again to find yourself in her chains.”
“No!” cried the male, a trembling beginning in the broad body of him. “I must not die so! I will serve the woman!”
A brief moment did the male attempt hesitation, seeking, no doubt, an easing of the blade, yet when such easing was not quickly forthcoming, he carefully began the task given him. The warrior beneath him had been silent in her misery, too shamed to speak her desires, yet in but a few reckid was she again writhing wildly, without volition, made slave to a male by the needs of her body. The moment her release came he, too, was taken by the thing, undoubtedly fearing that his release would not be otherwise allowed. The hand of others remaining awake in the chamber, warriors clearly set as guard by Tilim and Rogon and the others, had approached when first I had reached the male, one of their number bearing a large candle from the ring in the center of the chamber. By its light I had been able to see that the male was he who had spoken to me earlier, asking that he be allowed entrance to my sleeping leather. I withdrew my hand and dagger from the male, allowing him to collapse to the floor cloth in defeat, allowing the vision of a well-used warrior to be seen by the others.
“It is fortunate you were awake, war leader,” said a Helda, the yellow of her clan covering clear in the candlelight. “That one has shamed us all in her weakness, and would undoubtedly have allowed the male to do you harm. ”
“Not so,” said I, stilling the rumble of anger from the others. She who had been well used lay with face averted upon the floor cloth, shame and self-condemnation strong upon her. “This warrior has done me a service, taking shame upon herself so that I might be spared the pain. It is true this service was done unknowingly, yet has this warrior my gratitude—and that of the male.”