Written by Elrik the albino (Jan 2000)
Kalem Kintyre knew she was the one as soon as he laid eyes on her.
It was a busy Saturday night at the Jade Dancer, the most hip club in all of Waterdeep.
He'd managed to get in using a fake id and disguise.
The id came from a robbery he'd done a month before.
The disguise was basically just a make up job, a wig, and some expensive clothes. He'd taken them from the victim (presumably just another stupid young nobleman, the kind that were a dime a dozen in Waterdeep).
The bouncer had checked him out for a while before letting him through.
He was at a low ebb in his career as a con-man, opportunist, and charlatan. His last scam had been selling fake religious items - 'holy' water, 'blessed' scrolls, and so on Ð to vulnerable types.
For a while it had gone well, and he'd made a tidy profit.
The scam involved a number of other contacts, fences, and even a magician who contributed the necessary spells for disguising the counterfeit items in such a way as to avoid easy detection.
But one night they were busted by agents of the Watch, presumably acting on a tip off from some informer. Who the informer was nobody ever found out. At any rate, he'd been lucky he wasn't in town at the time of the raids. He'd gone up to Neverwinter for a week to establish some new contacts. When he came back, he found sketches of his face posted up around town with the caption 'WANTED - REWARD OFFERED'.
It was then he decided to make use of the proceeds of that night a few weeks back when he'd come upon a drunken nobleman sprawled in Ten Steps Alley. It had been pure chance.
The stupid fop was still clutching a bottle of whiskey. He'd rifled his pockets and found a pass to get into the Dancer (it was members only and only the very rich went there because the fees were huge), a purse with some gold coins in it, and a gold ring. He also stripped him of his silk shirt and leggings, after giving him a firm punch to the side of the head to knock him out for a while. Soon after, he'd sold the ring and made use of the gold, but the clothing he decided would be of more use as a disguise whenever he should want to get in to the Dancer.
So that night he'd disguised himself to appear as close as he could to his recollection of the drunken young noble and, armed with his fine clothes and the pass, had got in to the famed establishment. His plan was simple. He would remove the disguise once inside (he preferred his own looks to those of the robbed nobleman), and proceed to comb the joint for vulnerable looking rich women (all the women at the Dancer were rich, so that part was easy).
He would charm them using his usual irresistable style, convince them to take him home for the night (or better still, one of the townhouses they rented specifically for the purpose of 'entertaining' male guests), give them a night of great sex, and then, when they were safely asleep, steal the best of their money and jewellery.
This was the plan he had in mind when a young girl, no more than sixteen he guessed, walked up to the bar and requested a blue zzar, the typical cocktail favourite of fashionable wealthy young ladies.
He'd been looking around for some time, but all the women seemed to have hostile bodyguards either with or near them (he'd approached one promising forty something lady alone at a table, when out of nowhere a huge hulk of a man intercepted him saying 'I'm afraid the lady is expecting company tonight sir'). He'd watched the girl surreptitiously for a while.
She did not seem to be accompanied by anyone, and her youth was a definite plus. He knew all about these rich girls. The upper classes of Waterdeep were a jaded, thrill seeking lot. Rich young teenage girls came to places like the Dancer looking for a good time, the kind of good time their limp-dicked male counterparts couldn't provide. What they really liked were adventurers, another common group that frequented the place. He was good at pretending to be one.
For about a year, he'd adventured in a party as a warrior, but he'd found it too dangerous. It wasn't the life for him. Two of his company got killed on their first quest, and he decided then and there that there must be easier ways to make a living. But still, his brief experience, coupled with his good looks and lean, athletic physique, enabled him to pose as an adventurer reasonably convincingly. He even still had his old sword, which he took along for the occasion.
The other thing about the girl was that she was extremely cute. She was fairly tall, about five nine or ten, with waist length deep brown hair, perfectly straight and very lustrous, and an oval shaped intelligent elfin face. She wore a knee length blue baby doll dress, blue stockings, and high heeled shoes. A beauty of a diamond necklace hung around her neck. He found himself perfectly capable of imagining her without her clothes, bent over a table while he fucked her from behind. Maybe even up the ass. He'd heard rich girls sometimes liked that.
He judged her to be a virgin. She looked innocently beautiful.
He decided to take a gamble. He paid for her drink.
She turned to look at him with arresting green eyes, and smiled shyly.
He flashed her his boyish smile.
'Don't mention it.' He said. He gestured to a stool near her at the bar. 'Why don't you sit down and tell me about yourself.'
She blushed as she raised the glass to her lips and sipped daintily. 'OK.'
He glanced at her blue-stocking clad legs as she seated herself, but then forced himself to tear his eyes away. Nice and easy, gently does it. That was the way.
'So what's your name ?'
'Cylette. Cylette Raventree.'
He froze. Raventree. He'd heard of the Raventree family all right. He knew one thing. They were bloody rich.
'Cylette. That's a lovely name.'
Another blush. 'Thanks.'
'Surely you're not here alone ?'
'There's a guy here my father hires to watch out for me. But he won't do anything. My father's a bit protective but he doesn't mind me É' She paused, uncertain about how to finish.
'Édoesn't mind you coming here looking for a good time ?', he ventured by way of help.
She blushed again, this time more intensely, and, with a faint smile said, 'yes, I guess.'
He recalled now. The Raventree's were renowned for being a rather wild, eccentric bunch. They were big financiers of the Arts in general, and there were persistent rumours that they were involved in the drug trade, both legal and illegal.
After a pause, 'You know, you haven't told me anything about yourself.'
'There's not much to tell I'm afraid. I'm an adventurer, in town for a while before my next quest.' He said humbly.
And from there he proceeded to tell her of his various exploits, his current quest to recover the long lost Staff of Kraal (whoever Kraal was), how he'd lost a brave comrade in battle to a Hobgoblin Chieftain on his last quest to rescue the captured daughter of a Mintarn nobleman. And all the while she listened with doe eyed anticipation, quizzing him about all manner of details. They drank more zzar (to his relief she refused to let him buy any more drinks, instead paying for them herself) and soon she was onto requesting to see him flex his muscles, and the details of his past romances.
They had moved over to a more quiet corner to talk. The drinks were having a pleasing effect on her. She was now flirting with him, emboldened by the alcohol. The change was quite remarkable, even a little disconcerting. He gradually found himself on the back foot, not quite in control of the way the situation was developing. And although he was certain the drinks had had a lot to do with her increased confidence, he suspected she had been playing the shy, inexperienced virgin girl a little deliberately before.
'I suppose you've had lots of love affairs with beautiful lady warriors'.
'Well Ð a few. But they all broke my heart.'
She giggled. Actually, it was more of a chesty chuckle than a giggle. Earlier it had been more like the classic teenage girl giggle, high pitched and dim-witted.
'Oh ? So none lay claim on you ?'
He shook his head. 'No. I'm a free man.'
She laughed. She hesitantly toyed with the back of his hand with her gloved fingers, feeling his knuckles. 'You've got nice smooth hands. I thought warriors were meant to have really rough hands, what with all that sword swinging.'
Observant, he thought. I'd better tread carefully with this one.
'Oh I always wear gauntlets when I fight.'
She smiled coyly at him, tilting her head to one side playfully. 'What did you mean when you said you're a free man ? You think all those girls were trying to hold you prisoner huh ?'
He laughed. 'No, no. But they did want me to settle down a little. I couldn't. Adventuring's in my blood.' He paused, looking into her eyes. 'And so is falling for pretty ladies.'
She smiled back at him as she leaned back slightly, curling the end of her hair in her index finger. 'You think I'm pretty ?'
'I certainly do. And what's more you have class. Elegance. The kind that only comes with good breeding. Me, I came from a simple background. But I've always envied the sophistication of the wealthy classes.'
She eyed him as she sipped her zzar. After a pause she said,'You're very good at flattery, you know.'
'I assure you I am perfectly serious.'
Another pause, this time longer.
'I guess a guy like you would be good at all sorts of things huh ?'
He could see from the glitter in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell ever so slightly with her heightened pulse rate, that she was aroused by this situation of open flirtation. And he knew with certainty that, although she may be innocent in the arts of love, this was not the first time she had engaged in such an encounter.
She was your classic untouchable virgin. This kind loved themselves to distraction. He imagined her standing in front of a mirror, naked, admiring herself. Reflecting on whether to ever surrender her perfect body to the harshness of lovemaking.
'Well, I suppose you could say that.'
'Have you heard of my family ?', she asked suddenly.
'Yes, I have. I'm not from Waterdeep, but I have heard the name Raventree before.'
'We are one of the oldest merchant families in the City of Splendors. And the richest. Here, all the major Houses are known to people. I've had plenty of creeps trying to come on to me. They stare at the rings on your fingers, or your jewellery.' She fingered her diamond necklace as she spoke. 'I hate it.'
Oh, you poor dear, he thought. How do you cope ?
He nodded understandingly. 'Still. How can you tell it's not your beauty they covet, and not you're diamonds ?'
'Oh I can tell. They're just creeps. But you're not. I like adventurers. Especially handsome ones like you.'
She ventured a caress of his bare right bicep. 'Mmm.' She giggled softly.
Now was the time to make his move. He leaned forward. Their lips met. To his surprise, he felt her tongue push its way into his mouth. They kissed for well over a minute, and then her hand was on his chest, and he felt her applying a gentle push. She broke the kiss.
'I've got a secret.' She whispered. Her lips were so close to his, he could see the texture of her deep pink lipstick.
She smiled coyly, and in a little girl voice said,'I'm not wearing any panties at all.' Little tease, he thought.
'Mmm. How unladylike of you.'
She giggled. 'Maybe. I should tell you I'm a virgin.'
A virgin maybe, but not as innocent as he'd first thought.
'I see. Do you want to do something about that ?'
She smiled. 'Maybe. Maybe not. It depends.'
'On what ?'
'I have to see if you're what I want first.' She laughed, stood up suddenly, and he watched in amazement as she started walking away from him, her ass swaying seductively.
He followed her out into the cool night air.
She turned around and, taking a couple of steps toward him, put her arms around him and presented her lips for kissing. He kissed her deeply.
He wanted to fuck her there and then, but he knew the little bitch wouldn't brook it.
'What about you're bodyguard ?'
'He should be along soon. I have a private coach, and he drives me. Once he sees I'm inside safely he'll leave for the night.'
'Where are we going ?'
She giggled. 'Don't worry, we're not going back to my family's house. My sisters and I have a townhouse in Sea Ward. They're all away at the moment anyway, so we'll have the place to ourselves.'
A passing coach stopped beside them. In the driver's seat, he saw a figure cloaked all in black, the hood concealing his features. He got out and, opening the door, helped her inside. As she climbed up into the cabin, she lifted the hem of her dress to her just below her ass and paused briefly to glance over her shoulder at him.
What a little tease.
When he got inside, she was leaning back on the cushions, one leg bent. A few moments later, the coach leapt forward.
For a moment he stared at her in the dim light. She looked up at him expectantly.
She held out her arms to him. 'Kiss me.'
He lay atop her, and they kissed.
'Are all you Waterdeep ladies so bold ?', he whispered to her in the darkness of the cabin.
She giggled. 'Oh, yes. We have a reputation.'
'So É that's your bodyguard driving us ?'
'Yes, that's Armand. He's served our family loyally for years.'
'He looks formidable.'
'Oh he's fine. He won't do anything unless you try to hit me, or steal from me or something like that. Or rape me.'
He looked down at her. Her dark hair lay about her haphazardly. What a find. A gorgeous rich 15 year old virgin. But what about the bodyguard ? He felt sure that, even if he didn't observe them fucking, he'd at least keep an eye on the house throughout the night. He knew what they were like. Well, if he didn't get to rob her, at least he'd get her cherry. What a prize, indeed ! And maybe he'd make such an impression on her she'd want to see him again É
'How would he know if I'm raping you or just having passionate sex with you ?'
'If I scream out he'd know.' An evil look came into her eyes. 'Maybe I'll do that. Wouldn't that be funny ? You'd get arrested and imprisoned for sure.'
'Surely you wouldn't ?' he said with mock concern.
She laughed, sighed, and slowly stretched her leg up to place it on his shoulder.
His eyes went to the small triangular patch of black pubic hair between her legs. Neatly trimmed.
'Can you see my pussy ?', she breathed, smoothing the folds of her dress around her waist.
'Yes.', he managed croakingly, his cock rock hard at the sight. 'It looks good enough to eat to me.'
He prepared to get down there and then and eat her, but she stopped him by removing her foot from his shoulder and placing it squarely into his chest.
He looked into her eyes. She was clearly aroused at her own teasing performance.
'You'll have to wait for that.'
He realised now that she was going to be an especially tricky case. It was clear she wanted to tease him at length before letting herself be taken, and with the bodyguard following closely behind he was in no doubt he'd have to endure it.
She withdrew her foot and her pussy disappeared from view.
The coach came to a halt.
Cylette sat up and kissed him again.
The door opened. Breaking away from him, she swung around so that she sat at the edge of the seat, her legs and feet dangling out of the coach.
Armand lifted her out of the carriage. She sighed and hung her head over his shoulder, putting her arms around him. He set her down gently on her feet.
He climbed out, and looked around. They had come to the esplanade. Stately, comfortable looking mansions stood overlooking the dark sea, which lay at the base of the formidable cliffs into which was built the intricate latticework Underdark. Underdark was the name given to the very foundations of the City of Splendors, centuries old, and said to harbour all manner of strange denizens and magical enchantments.
They stood outside the gates of an imposing manor that looked more like a family home than a spare place to take people you'd met at a nightclub. But then, this girl was part of the very very rich, not just the affluent.
She walked up and, putting her arms around him, held her pretty face up for another kiss. He obliged gladly. She felt so good in his arms. Then she broke away again, smiled, blew him a kiss, and, turning on her heel, headed for the front gate.
He watched her walk away, confused. Where was she going ?
'Madame ?' he called out after her. Surely, the little bitch wasn't going to leave him here at this point of proceedings.
A mailed hand suddenly grasped his shoulder, gently but firmly.
'Sir ?' said the dispassionate voice of Armand the bodyguard.
He turned to face him, and suddenly a thick white cloth smothered his face and his nostrils were filled with the unmistakable odour of Porphyrr, a herb commonly used to induce temporary unconsciousness.
He fought the effects, but he felt his knees growing numb and then gradually the rest of his body as he slumped forward into his assailants arms. As he blanked out he reflected briefly on the fact that he had been set up.
He awoke to find himself in a bedroom lit by candles placed at various points around the walls, and a fireplace burning steadily at the far end of the room. He lay on a wide round bed laden with blue silk sheets.
His hands were tied together above his head and fixed to the steel rungs of the bedhead. There was something spherical and solid, probably wooden, inside his mouth, which was fixed there by an elastic strap that wound around his head. Each of his ankles was manacled to steel rungs at the far end of the bed.
Much to his concern, he was completely naked.
He gazed at his surroundings. There was a dressing table at the far end of the room, covered with items such as combs, hairbrushes, lipsticks, and perfumes. Before the fireplace, a large rug decorated the floor.
A deep, low set wicker chair sat before the fireplace on the rug, laden with soft cushions. Next to it were a low wooden footstool and a lowset round wooden table. A large portrait painting dominated the wall to his left. It depicted a beautiful young girl, wearing a flowing silver gown, seated regally in a high backed chair, legs crossed..
To his right was a chair over which was slung a yellow dress.
There had been the sound of a door opening behind him, which had awoken him from his slumber. He could not see there. The dressing table mirror revealed nothing either.
It closed. He heard slow, measured steps. High heels on stone. Then a gloved hand (her hand clad in a strange, silky, lacy fabric he did not recognise) touched his hair briefly.
The smell of perfume. A girlish giggle in his ear, soft lips caressing his earlobe briefly. He felt a tingle run up his spine as she blew softly in his ear.
She passed by him in the faint light of the chamber, her back to him.
Her long, waist-length brown hair bouncing slightly as she walked, slowly. She wore the very same silver gown as she wore in the portrait painting.
It looked to be made of a spidery, silky material that was so wispy it looked like it might break up and float away into the air at any moment.
The lacework was intricate and beautiful. The garment hugged her young body like a second skin, covering her arms to the wrists. It reached to just above her ankles, and was slit up the sides to her waist. Upon her feet were silver strapped sandals, the heels about four inches in length. At her right ear, a single white dandelion.
He had to admit he was a little afraid. Here he lay, completely helpless, at the mercy of this strange, beautiful girl.
She walked toward the fireplace, her shimmering form outlined by and bathed in firelight. He wanted to speak, but he could not.
With slow, measured steps, she approached the fireplace. The gown was semi-transparent, and as she moved the light revealed tantalising glimpses.
He couldn't believe this was happening. He had planned this all so well, or so he'd thought. And now, he was unable to effect the course of events at all. Had this young girl planned all of this in advance ? It certainly appeared so.
She reached the fireplace, and reaching forward, pulled a cord that seemed to run from behind the mantlepiece up into a tiny hole in the ceiling. A distant ringing was heard. Then she walked over and settled herself in the wicker chair.
For the first time since they had met at the Satin Dancer, she looked directly at him. She smiled knowingly at him, and then laughed a crystal clear laugh as she placed her right leg over her left.
He saw she wore thigh high, silver grey, lace top stockings. She gazed with interest at his growing erection. He could tell she was highly aroused.
'I hope you're not angry at me for having you restrained and gagged.'
He stared at her lovely, stocking-clad leg. He was angry all right, and he was afraid. He was resentful that these rich bitches thought they could get away with this sort of shit.
Then again, they could get away with it. He knew how this city worked. If you had money you could have whatever you wanted.
'Tonight is a special night for me you see. Tonight, I become a true woman.' And she laughed at her own words, slightly intoxicated by the champagne.
She rose from her seat, glass of champagne in her delicate hand, and walked toward him. When she got to the edge of the bed, she paused to look down into his eyes. He saw, looking into them, that his fears were unfounded. And he knew she did not intend to harm him Ð at least not permanently. Beneath the lace about her chest, he saw the soft swell of her small, developing breasts, but the details remained excruciatingly hidden.
He wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
She fingered the diamond necklace at her throat absently with one hand, and he watched in incredulity as, with her other hand, she placed a finger against the covered lips of her pussy and began gently massaging her most sensitive place.
He felt the sweat trickling down from his forehead and his cock felt like it was going to explode. And yet, with no other stimulation than visual, he knew that was just wishful thinking. Never before had he felt so intensely frustrated. He wanted to scream.
She announced : 'I didn't lie when I told you I was a virgin. I've never fucked a man before.'
He saw her eyes were on his cock. She was breathing fairly heavily, her eyelids fluttering over her enchanting eyes.
'Aghh!', she cried suddenly, tensing. She reached out to hold onto a bedpost, her body trembling as an orgasm swept over her. He could smell her essence now, mixed with the subtle perfume she wore. Without thinking, he began to strain against his bonds.
She ignored his attempts to break free, pausing for a minute or so to regain her composure, brush a strand of hair from her face. Then he felt her lacy hand upon his forehead again.
'Shshhh,' she whispered. 'Do not fight me, my beautiful warrior.'
He looked up at her with his most imploring expression. She smiled, a triumphant, exultant smile. Her eyes glittered, her face was flushed.
'I don't want to hurt you.'
She caressed his cheek, as though he were a lovely ornament.
So, he reflected for a brief moment. She really thinks I am a warrior.
She sat down on the bed beside him, leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. Her hair fell all about him. Then she drew back and playfully licked his nose, then his left ear.
'It's going to be so good,' she cooed into his ear, her breath hot against his skin. 'I can't wait until we fuck.'
She got up again and walked back to her chair, seated herself.
The lovely girl of means said : 'I've been waiting a long time for you, you know.' Just then, the door at the far end of the room opened, and in walked a young girl. She was, he judged, a little older than Cylette, perhaps 19 or 20. Her hair was long, although not quite the waist length of Cylette's; rippling, and honey blonde in hue. She was a little shorter, perhaps five foot seven or eight. She wore a similar gown of silvery green, although not quite as intricately laced as Cylette's.
The girl went over to Cylette, and about half way turned her head to look directly at him. He froze under her gaze. His cock, fully erect and at its most proud eight and a half inches, left no doubt as to his own state of arousal.
She smiled, laughed quietly to herself, and then knelt at Cylette's side. All the while, Cylette had not taken her gaze from him. Sitting with legs crossed, that sublime leg of hers poking out of her gown, she did not so much as glance at the blonde haired maiden who, kneeling, had taken her foot in her hands and had begun to carefully clean her shoe with her tongue.
After a moment she reached out and caressed her hair, then she glanced down with a smile.
When he had seen that smile first in the Satin Dancer, Kalem had mistakenly interpreted it as shyness. He now realised it was no such thing. It was the smile reserved for the truly affluent, decadent, and self possessed. For the tiny minority of ultra rich who were used to manipulating people like pawns, and who knew that society was deliberately constructed for them and them alone.
'Jacintha, my love. What do you think of him ?'
She looked back to regard him. 'Hmmm. He's cute É but are you sure he's good enough for you ?'
By Tempus he hated them. What right did they think they had ? He felt his ears burning. But then, that wasn't just the result of his fury either, he had to admit. Something within him, he realised vaguely, was actually enjoying this humiliation. And it was truly the ultimate humiliation for him.
He, who had spent years manipulating young women like these, had finally met his match.
He had bitten off way more than he could chew.
He should have known he wouldn't get away with it with a Raventree. Now, lying there, he recalled everything he'd heard about them. They were one of the most powerful and oldest families of Waterdeep, and there were even rumours that some of their members were Lords.
Lords of Waterdeep. A select few drawn from the ruling classes who held absolute power in the most powerful city of the Realms.
Nothing was known of them, and whenever they acted officially, they donned masks to conceal their identities. There were even rumours that they cast spells upon themselves to conceal their genders and exact physiques. And there he'd been, trying to screw over the daughter of a likely Lord of Waterdeep. It was the sort of stunt that worked fine with the lower nobility, the kind who had only a minor title and no real power or influence, who were flattered at any advance or obsequious pandering to their fragile status.. But not with the Lords and their kin !
Then again, he had to admit, she'd acted out a role that quite clearly did not reflect her true position and persona. What was her game ? Clearly she wanted to fuck him. Was that it ?
All Cylette gave in reply was a laugh and a chiding, 'Oh Jacintha.' It was difficult to keep his eyes on them, flat on his back as he was. The natural place for him to look would have been the ceiling, at least in terms of comfort. But he wasn't about to do that. Presently, with a sigh, Cylette lifted her foot and draped her leg over the cushioned armrest of the wicker chair. He saw the top of her stocking, at upper thigh level, and the strap of a garter belt running under her ass.
Jacintha now busied herself with licking her lovers' upper thigh, front and rear, and then she buried her face between her legs fully.
Lady Cylette reached down absently, operating a small lever at the side of her chair, which allowed the back to ease down. She lay back at an angle of about 70 degrees, arms folded behind her head.
Then she looked right at him again and smiled.
With one hand, she lifted her swathe of hair behind her neck and, with the other, unzipped herself at the back of her gown, tilting her head slightly forward. Then, lifting both hands to her shoulders, she rolled the gown off her shoulders and peeled it off like a skin, right down to her waist.
Now she sat, naked above the waist apart from her jewelled necklace.
She closed her eyes and cupped her breasts in her hands. He saw that she bore a small tattoo over her left breast, but he could not make out the details from where he was.
By Sune, he thought, her breasts are lovely. Still developing, perfectly formed hemi-spherical lumps about the size of apples, adorned with small aureolae and pin-like nipples, erect with arousal.
And suddenly, he realised that this night had been planned in intricate detail for some time. Everything down to the clothes she wore, her hair style, the arrangement of furniture in the room. She had decided to lose her virginity, and he was the man she had selected.
Well, he had to admit, he was a lucky guy. The decision had obviously not been hasty. His anger subsided a little again.
What right did he have to resent her, after what he himself had done all these years ? And anyway, if he pleased her, he may very well get his ultimate wish fulfilled. It was a matter of swallowing his pride.
He had imagined that he himself would control events leading to this ultimate triumph Ð the capturing of a wealthy society lady prepared to keep him in luxury and comfort in exchange for his refined sexual prowess. Instead, he now found himself being manipulated utterly, with little or no ability to affect the outcome of the situation, and yet with perhaps his best ever chance of getting what he wanted.
She swayed her hips slowly, holding Jacintha's face firmly against her crotch, eyes tightly shut.
'Ohhh', she moaned softly.
Jacintha rose from her position and reverently placed her lips around Cylette's left nipple, teasing it with flicks of her tongue, while she stimulated her lover with her fingers.
'Oh Jacintha, my sweet.'
Jacintha kissed her way up with numerous small kisses to Cylette's face.
After kissing for what seemed to him like ages, he saw them whispering to one another, giggling, and glancing over at him.
Then Jacintha rose and walked over to the bed. As she came near the foot of the bed she cast off her gown. She wore a pair of white lace panties, a white lace brassiere, and white high heeled shoes. He saw now that about her neck was studded collar. As she climbed onto the bed, he saw Cylette finish her glass of wine and rise to walk over to join them.
At the foot of the bed, they embraced one another again and kissed. Then Cylette turned to face him, hands on hips. Jacintha stepped behind her, paused to kiss her shoulder lovingly, and then fell to her knees. Her hands came around to slide the gown off Cylette's hips.
And there she stood before him. In a silver lace teddy garter belt, sheer lace-top grey stockings, and silver heels. Long, silver opera gloves reaching up to mid upper arm. Between the straps of the garter belt was the most beautiful little cunt he'd ever laid eyes on. Deep brown, a perfectly trimmed small triangle.
She raised her hands to her budding breasts, cupped them, and massaged them gently. Jacintha lovingly licked her asshole from behind.
Cylette Raventree studied the prostrate form of the man on the bed before her as her female slave Jacintha tongued her rosebud.
He was nicely built all right, perfectly suitable for her first fuck. His dick was very large, but her mother had told her that once it was inside her, a big cock would feel wonderful.
Her hymen was already broken. Although she'd never fucked a man, she'd had plenty of sexual activity in her young life. So it shouldn't hurt.
She tousled Jacintha's hair one last loving time and walked around to stand next to him beside the bed. His eyes followed her. The fear had gone from them, but he was still wary.
Laughing, holding onto the bed post to steady herself, she raised her left foot and placed it in his crotch, feeling his throbbing dick under her instep. He groaned.
'Oh you silly boy, you really have got yourself into trouble haven't you ?' She shook her head at him. She felt a little sorry for him. Her mother had given her all the information about him well in advance. He was an eternal loser.
But oh, look at that body.
Her cunt tingled with anticipation. This is what she loved. The feeling of a guy under her heel, fully aware of his inferior class position, unable to touch her perfect body.
'I've got a perfect body haven't I ?', she teased him, fingering her cunt slowly while she gazed down at him. She was so wet now her juices were running down her leg.
He looked up to see her perfect slender leg, clad in its black stocking, her finger massaging her little clit.
Her stiletto heel was digging into his scrotum, causing him to tense like a board. But never had he felt so aroused. His cock screamed for release.
She took her heel off his groin, put it beside his left thigh, and then, with superb grace, holding onto the bedhead, swung her lithe body over so that she now squatted over his face, her perfect ass and pussy inches from him.
He saw Jacintha's arms warp themselves around her waist, and her fingers insert themselves in between her Mistress's swollen cunt lips. Cylette squatted with hands now resting on her thighs.
Without thinking, he was trying to raise his hips to fuck her sweet little pussy, but he couldn't budge an inch so firmly was he bound to the bed. He heard them both laughing at his predicament.
As Jacintha stimulated her clitoris, Cylette turned her face back behind her to french kiss her female lover and slave. They did this for a while, Cylette moving closer and closer to another orgasm, her slender hips now bucking wildly in unison with the manual stimulation she was receiving.
Suddenly they stopped and Cylette leaned forward to put both hands on the bedhead, lowered her pussy to just above his nose, and furiously spurted a warm stream of cunt juice all over his face, screaming with wild ecstasy as she did so, her entire body shuddering as Jacintha held her in her arms and massaged her tits.
He gasped, and, blinking, managed to regain his vision. He couldn't even swallow any of her essence with the ball gag in his mouth.
Suddenly he felt a hand encircling his cock, firmly, while a finger jammed itself into his asshole. He stiffened, and looked down to see the beautiful blonde Jacintha aiming the head of his engorged cock towards Cylette's waiting cunt.
Then he felt her silken cunt hairs against his prick. He would have ejaculated pretty much immediately had Jacintha's finger not been inserted in his ass.
'He's got a beautiful dick,' marvelled Jacintha as she slid the head against her lover's wet slit. Cylette sighed and rolled her hips over his cock teasingly.
'Mmmm, yeah. But he is a filthy commoner.'
He moaned piteously. Lords he had to have release soon or he'd pass out.
Cylette giggled. 'I've got an idea.'
Reaching forward, she pulled the ball gag out of his mouth, causing him to splutter and cough for a moment, as she eased her body forward to position her pussy over his face again. 'Now listen, my big hunky warrior' She breathed huskily. 'Her ladyship needs to relieve her bladder. Will Sir Knight be Her toilet ?'
They giggled heartily at this.
'Open up now.'
He tried to turn away, but then he felt cold steel against the base of his prick. He glanced down to see the blonde Jacintha holding a knife at the base of his manhood. He froze.
'We wouldn't have to cut him off, would we ? What I would I fuck then ?'
And so he opened up, whereupon Lady Cylette proceeded to piss directly into his mouth.
'Drink my piss, you lumbering sword-swinger.' Sighed Cylette happily.
And drink it he did. Every bitter sweet drop.
Nourishment And Pleasure - According to the January 31, 1920 edition of London Life (all thanks to Dara Howley from Twitter) this London woman takes both “her nourishment and her ple...
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