Disclaimer: This story contains consensual, graphic, BDSM sexual activity.
There's no rape involved, however. If there were, it would say so, right here
in this disclaimer, but there isn't, so there's not. Disclaimers rock.)
* Curtain *
--- Prologue ---
"Here, read it!"
Gabrielle slapped the scroll down on the ground beside Xena
and stalked to the other side of the camp.
Xena lifted the roll of papyrus into her lap gingerly, as if
it might erupt in flames. Gabrielle had labored over this scroll, in fits
and starts, ever since they left Piraeus. She had never known the bard to
struggle so over any creative endeavor -- she'd gnawed her way through three
of her best quills, spitting shreds of feather as she sweated over the page.
Any inquiries Xena made into the nature of her work had been
met with snarling demands for privacy. The snappishness was new -- since the
near-disaster on the boards of the Great Appian Way, the warrior found it
increasingly difficult to voice any opinion whatsoever without risking the
withering sarcasm of her young partner. Now Gabrielle's green eyes were boring
holes in her from across the campfire, and she chose her words carefully.
"Gabrielle? This is kind of long. You're going to have
to give me awhile, okay?"
"Take your time." Gabrielle folded her arms, her face
a grim mask of patience. "Who's rushing you."
Xena smiled weakly, and scanned the first few lines. "Hey,
it's a play."
"The title is RAVISHED, A PLAY IN THREE ACTS. That tip
you off?"
Xena shrugged. "Well, you felt your first try at stagecraft didn't turn
out too well -- "
"Didn't turn out?" Gabrielle's tone was ominous. "Xena,
I am going to be held responsible for unleashing hordes of ravening thespians
on the unsuspecting civilized world."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"It was NOT the message I wanted to send!"
Startled birds detonated from nearby treetops. Gabrielle rested
her forehead in one hand and perched the other on her hip, sighed, and made
an effort to lower her voice.
"Just . . . read . . . the script."
Xena unrolled the scroll. She figured anything could happen
before she finished the thing and had to offer a critique. Maybe they'd be
jumped by bandits. A rabid wolf could happen by. Gabrielle's stupid period
might start at last.
Gabrielle began to pace, as Xena finished the prologue, twisted
the rods to advance the papyrus, and read on. Xena's lips moved over a few
words, and then her brows rose.
"What?" Gabrielle asked.
Xena looked at her, puzzled.
"Your eyebrows went up."
"Gabrielle."
"Sorry, go on." The bard resumed pacing.
The parchment crackled in Xena's hands as she read through the
next several inches. Her blue eyes moved evenly over the delicate writing,
and slowly, a flush of color filled the high planes of her cheeks. She drew
in a deep breath.
"What, what?"
Xena looked up, frowning.
"You gasped, I heard you."
"Gabrielle."
"You did gasp -- "
"Gabrielle? If you interrupt me again, I will take our
only frying pan to your insolent young butt," Xena said politely. "Now
shut up, and let me finish this."
Gabrielle plunked down cross-legged, and cradled her close-cropped
head in her hands. She recited the meditations Eli gave her to chase off demons
of insecurity. She was so tense she couldn't possibly have dozed off, but
she never heard Xena get up -- the warrior was just suddenly standing beside
her.
Gabrielle scrambled to her feet and looked at Xena closely.
"What do you think?"
"Well, I'm no bard." Xena's blue eyes twinkled warmly.
"So I'll express myself my way."
She swept her wife into her arms and kissed her, one arm snaking
around the small of her back. The warrior's full lips blended warmly against
Gabrielle's mouth, and after a moment of surprise, the bard responded.
Her hands rose and explored Xena's face, her slender fingers
brushing lightly over her sculpted cheeks and across her brow. Xena drew her
lover's tongue into her mouth with gentle insistence, and sucked her while
Gabrielle moaned, loose-lipped. The bard's knees weakened, and only the strong
arm in the small of her back kept her upright.
They had not kissed this way since India. Since Potadaiea, really,
and their reunion. They'd shared one dizzying, primal night, then, and then
this odd numbing had set in. Xena had sensed it, and refused, stolidly, to
address it. She wasn't addressing it now. It was just good to feel this again.
At last the warrior straightened, and she smiled down at Gabrielle
with fond pride. "Bri, it's a beautiful script."
"Script?" Gabrielle's emerald eyes looked fogged,
as if she'd over-indulged in henbane again, but they cleared quickly, and
she stood on her own power. "Oh, right. Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
The bard smiled, then lowered her head and released a quick
sigh of relief and pleasure. She flattened her hands on Xena's chest. "Will
you do something for me?"
"Anything."
Gabrielle's green eyes crinkled. "I need to see how it
plays."
"How it plays?"
"We have to act it out."
"Act it out?"
"Xena, warrior parrot." Gabrielle stood on her toes
and kissed Xena's cheek, then stepped back and started waving her arms. "Yeah,
I need to know if it works, visually -- viscerally, as a scene."
"Oh, it's visceral," Xena assured her. "But I'm
not sure you want us to -- "
"Xena, it's not like we haven't done it."
Gabrielle tried for an air of sophistication, but she felt her
face filling with color. She dimpled and dropped her eyes, knowing her attempt
at worldliness was transparent, and then peered up at Xena through spiky blond
bangs. "We've played with it, at least. This is just taking it a step
further, that's all."
"True." Xena worried her lower lip with her teeth
for a moment, and then cupped Gabrielle's chin in her hand, her fingers drifting
against the side of her face. It was one of their oldest ways of touching,
as natural and familiar now as drawing breath; Xena's caress of her lover's
face was both sisterly and sensual. "Okay, if you're sure. But you're
the director, Gabrielle. I want you to promise me you'll call this off if
you -- "
Gabrielle threw her arms up around Xena's neck and hugged her
fiercely, then gave the taller woman's cheek another smacking kiss. "You
get the props, I get a head start."
Gabrielle turned and ran, a blur of color and a flash of tanned
thigh imprinting on Xena's vision. She leaped over a bedroll and disappeared
into the dark woods surrounding their camp.
The warrior grinned, listening to her partner's fast step fade
in the distance. She brushed her hands together and winked at Argo. "Hot
doggy," she murmured, and started to chuckle.
Argo sighed.
Xena loped to their stock, and pulled out a gunny sack. She
rummaged in her saddle bag and extracted lengths of rope, a dagger, and accessories.
She slung the bag over her shoulder and paused, still grinning
fiercely, and looked back above her shoulder at the cold, inscrutable face
of Artemis's full moon. Xena raised her head, and let out a trilling warcry
that sent the nightbirds scattering again. Then she bolted after Gabrielle.
---- *** ----
RAVISHED -- A PLAY IN THREE ACTS
by Gabrielle the Bard
Act I
----- *** -----
The young priestess tore her way through the tangled shrubbery
blocking her path up the slope. She reached deep inside for a last burst of
strength, and made it over the crest of the hill before collapsing on her
knees in the deep grass.
The priestess was fit, but racing a full league up a forested
rise would leave anyone gasping. She lay a hand on one breast, and made herself
breathe more quietly so she could listen.
The terrifying crashing in the brush that had followed her the
first half-league had fallen silent the last, as had the blood-chilling cries
that chased her into the hills. Either she had out-distanced her pursuer,
or misdirected her.
She couldn't be complacent about her escape, however, not with
a demon queen thirsting for her blood. The priestess climbed to her feet,
and pulled a deep draught of cold mountain air deep into her lungs before
beginning the next leg of her flight.
That same clear air shattered as the clarion cry sounded just
behind and above her.
The priestess flinched down as the dark form flew over her,
twisting in mid-air gracefully. The queen landed so lightly in front of her
there was no sound. She was just suddenly there, blocking her path of escape,
her tall, muscular body as impassable as a pillar of rock. She regarded the
priestess with a slowly dawning smile, her black hair a touseled wildness
framing her distinctive features.
The priestess took an instinctive step backwards toward the
lip of the rise.
The queen's full lips pursed in amusement. "Does the little
fox think she'll be harder to catch running downhill?" she purred.
"I believe vixen are underestimated in animal lore,"
the priestess replied calmly, her hands loose at her sides. "They have
teeth."
The queen smiled, and clasped her hands behind her back, waiting.
"I was nearly out of your reach, you know." The younger
woman was stalling, hoping to quell the trembling that had started in her
belly. "Once I made it past your sentries, and climbed above the pastures,
I stopped hearing you."
"Yes, dear, I was able to stop imitating an elephant when
you finally started running in the direction I intended." The queen turned
slightly and gestured toward the center of the circle of trees, an almost
courtly invitation. "Shall we, priestess?"
The priestess looked past her into the shadowed grove, and then
into the mocking eyes of the dark woman. Her own green orbs flashed, and a
grim resolve replaced the insecurity that had threatened for a moment.
"If you think any brand of persuasion will convince me to sign a treaty
bonding our people, you're deluded."
This calm speech sustained her as she strolled past the queen
and into the center of the grove.
"Perhaps my chance of success would be higher," the
queen said pleasantly, "if priestesses weren't drawn from the ranks of
village virgins."
The priestess whirled. Her hand darted up and grasped the astonished
queen's chin, and before she could react, the priestess surged against her
and kissed her, harshly. Then she flattened her tongue against her cheek and
dragged it up the side of her face with a sibilant hiss. She pushed the taller
woman back with a scathingly contemptous smack on the chest. Her emerald eyes
seared up into the startled blue ones above her.
"Your reputation for coarseness is richly deserved, your
majesty. As is my own, for a spiteful nature."
The queen stood immobile, staring down at her.
The priestess waited. Then she cleared her throat, concerned,
and snapped her fingers beneath the queen's nose. "Xena."
"That wasn't in the script," Xena stammered.
"I was improvising," Gabrielle said calmly. She looked
up at the warrior with serene green eyes. "Why? Didn't it work?"
Xena grinned, and the dark slurring of her warlord days suffused
her rich voice. "You young slut." She took the priestess's bare
arm and spun her, then planted a firm hand between her shoulder blades and
pushed.
----- *** -----
The queen had obviously chosen this location for it's natural
assets. She had the angry priestess tethered in a tight, standing spread between
two trees even before the large fire crackled high, illuminating the grove,
and the girl's still-clothed body, in gold light.
Now she strolled slowly back and forth before her, enjoying
the play of muscle in her bare arms as the young woman pulled against the
restraints. The flat belly rippled, too, as she struggled, and the look of
outrage in the jewel-green eyes was pure aphrodisiac.
The tall woman paused, then turned to her partner.
"Gabrielle." Xena's voice was gentle. "This next
bit is all action. Your stage directions call for me to gag you, but I'm not
going to do that. You must be able to speak at all times, in case you want
me to stop. I won't argue that -- " Xena lifted a hand as Gabrielle started
to speak. "But neither will I stop again, unless you ask me to."
A little of Gabrielle's bravado deserted her, and she swallowed
visibly.
Xena smiled at her, the transformed again as Gabrielle watched,
the kindness in her eyes becoming the cat-like greed of the queen's. The queen
inserted the tip of her dagger between the sheaves of fine fabric at the priestess's
throat. One skilled flick of a wrist sent the wicked blade gliding soundlessly
downward, separating the silk with a sibilant hiss.
The queen's long fingers tickled their way into the tear, and
jerked the tattered material wide. The priestess's full, pale breasts bounced
free in the scarlet wash of firelight. The queen's eyes sparked with pleasure,
and she lifted the torn halves over the priestess's shoulders, baring her
completely to the waist.
The blond woman's eyes drifted closed in stages and her back
arched, in unwilling response to the cool air playing over the sensitive tips
of her breasts, coupled with the liquid heat of Xena's gaze on her nipples.
The familiar weight of the succulent mounds on her chest suddenly grew lighter,
and she could feel her buds swell and harden beneath her lover's stern blue
eyes.
"A woman's nipples pucker so beautifully when she's frightened,
don't you agree?"
The queen ducked under the priestess's raised arm and sidled
up behind her.
She pressed the cold metal of her chestplate against the warmth of the girl's
bare shoulders, and her hands curled around in front of her. The long fingers
tickled the rounded swells of both breasts, and a breathless moan escaped
the priestess's parted lips. The queen lifted the taut globes in her palms,
and splayed her fingers over their tips, rubbing in small, tight circles.
Then her fingers straightened and pinched, hard, and Gabrielle's
stiffening nipples blushed red between them. The smaller woman's head smacked
back into Xena's shoulder, and she emitted an unladylike groan, a sound so
surprisingly sensual that they both shivered slightly. The bound bard felt
a small fireball ignite deep in her loins.
Xena allowed instinct to take over, blackly frightening but
familiar, as Gabrielle's body arched in her hands. She closed her eyes and
tested their safety, and was satisfied. She knew she wouldn't hurt Gabrielle,
and she trusted her young partner to safeguard both of their hearts.
She moved around in front of the bard and pushed firmly up against
her, covering her naked breasts with smooth, cold steel. "You're going
to have to let me have this one, Gabrielle," Xena said quietly, looking
down into heated green eyes. "We can get back to the script presently,
but first -- "
Gabrielle spat out a hissing curse. "Will you shut UP,
Xena, by the gods, all this blasted chatter -- "
Gabrielle's insolence was cut off when Xena stepped back and
ripped her skirt from her hips, stripping her with such rude abruptness that
a spurt of arousal flooded from the bard's slit. The soft mound between her
legs quivered under the warrior's blistering gaze, bulging out toward her
in spite of her efforts to remain still.
Xena's eyes were changing again, turning an eerie shade of silver.
Gabrielle swore to this phenonmenon, but she was rarely believed. It was just
as well -- even her command of poetry couldn't describe how that simmering
gaze filled her with twisting heat. It was doing it again now.
There was just a brief flash of fear across Gabrielle's lovely
features as Xena reached down and wormed her fingers between her spread thighs.
The warrior cupped the hairy swell in her palm and squeezed, her silver eyes
patient. Finally Gabrielle's gaze softened, and her eyes closed in acceptance.
Xena probed the girl's nether lips apart and drilled up between
them, inserting three fingers to the second knuckle. Then she closed her hand
again, milking her, raking her palm in rough circles over Gabrielle's flattened,
straining clitoris.
Xena stepped closer, and rested her brow on the top of Gabrielle's
head. "Fight me," she said softly. "Try to avoid my touch."
A sob escaped Gabrielle, and her hips surged forward on Xena's
hand, straining to drive her fingers deeper. Xena's palm spun faster, grinding
her clit into her silken wetness. Gabrielle gasped, struggling to pull herself
up and off the skewering fingers continually flexing deep within her.
She began to twist in her bonds, shrieking in breath between
clenched teeth, but the tight ropes on her wrists and ankles kept her widely
spread. Her green eyes were locked on Xena's blue ones as she fought, widening
when heat spurted through her groin. Gabrielle looked like a young, enraged
goddess, filling with a fury of lust as Xena worked her.
Xena stared down at Gabrielle's naked breasts, stippled pink
now and heaving with exertion. She continued pumping in and out of her, using
smooth, merciless strokes that kept the younger woman bucking repeatedly against
her. Xena lifted her free hand to Gabrielle's mouth, and slid her cool fingers
between her parted lips. Gabrielle accepted them eagerly, and sucked them
hard as she rode.
"You can't close your legs," Xena whispered, her silver
eyes on the bard's staring green ones. "I can dig in your pussy like
this, fuck up into you like this, and you can only stand there with your legs
spread, Gabrielle, and your cunt stretched wide open to my touch, sucking
me up into you -- "
"Warriors are all talk." Gabrielle bit her lip, as
her bristling mound humped, impaled on Xena's hand. "Can't you find a
better use for that mouth?"
Xena blinked at her, and then a truly sinister smile lifted
the corner of her sensuous lips. She sank down to her knees, slithering along
Gabrielle's sweat-sheened nakedness. She looked up at the emerald eyes above
her, shimmering with need.
Still watching Gabrielle's face, Xena rested her full mouth
very lightly against the furred swell between her legs. She kissed her there,
chastely, almost reverently, in a gesture of thanks to the body she cherished.
Gabrielle smiled down at her sexily, a seductive curling of the lips that
the demure bard couldn't hope to duplicate when she was sane. Xena lowered
her gaze to the inviting, firelit juncture between her lover's spread thighs.
Her sex hung open, helplessly exposed, twitching and vulnerable.
She lifted Gabrielle's hips, making her vulva yawn wider, and then she buried
her face against her silken folds. Gabrielle screamed above her, writhing,
but the warrior held on.
Xena plunged her tongue into the bard's narrow channel and began
pistoning in and out of her, snarling ravenously between her thrashing thighs.
She raked the bursting clit once with her teeth.
Gabrielle came with shattering force. The bard considered those
words a piteous cliche until that night, when she adopted them as a particularly
apt description of her response to her warrior lover's ministrations. She
jerked in her bonds in the fury of climax, bucked, and screamed again. Eventually
she managed to calm herself, and finally stood with her head lowered, gasping.
Xena climbed to her feet, panting as well, and rested her hands
on her partner's bare shoulders. "Thanks, Bri," she whispered, and
rested her forehead on the top of Gabrielle's bowed head.
"Don't m-mention it," Gabrielle gasped, blinking at
the ground between her feet. "Sweet Artemis. Hoo. Anything for my art."
---- *** -----
* Curtain *
Intermission
RAVISHED: A PLAY IN THREE ACTS
by Gabrielle the Bard
(Did you read the disclaimer at the beginning of Act I? Go read
it again. I mean it. Go on, I'll wait here. . . . Welcome back. The fact that
you are still reading indicates that you are a mature adult, capable of choosing
your own pleasures, and certainly your own reading material. Nice to have
you.)
Act II
The queen's pale features loomed out of the smoky firelight,
and the priestess shrank back instinctively. The dark woman smiled, and slipped
her small knife from her belt. With one quick movement she cut the ropes binding
the young woman's left wrist, then her right. "The night is young, priestess."
"But you're not, your highness." The priestess struggled
to remain upright, hating to admit that only the queen's hands on her bare
waist kept her from falling. "Don't you think a brief intermission would
-- "
The queen gripped the priestess's chin, the cruel pinch of her
fingers an erotic parody of her earlier gentle caress. "I suggest you
save your breath for something other than foolish questions, girl. You're
going to need it."
Moving quickly, the queen stalked behind the blond woman and
pulled her arms behind her. The leather thong was wound around her muscular
forearms, binding them wrist to elbow in the middle of her back. Her ankles
were still encircled with loops of rope, anchoring her legs apart.
The queen came around in front of her prisoner again, and stood
regarding the effect of her bondage. The blond woman's carriage, and the directness
of her gaze, were pure defiance. The rest of her was a living sculpture worthy
of a high temple of Artemis.
The priestess's slender throat moved with suppressed emotion.
Her naked breasts were thrust forward, full and trembling above the lean belly,
the nipples enormous and pulsing. The sleek lines of the girl's waist swelled
at her hips, where her mound still quivered, achingly exposed between wide-spread
legs.
The priestess couldn't bear to continue watching the queen's
gaze devour her, and she turned her head, catching her lower lip between her
teeth as she closed her eyes.
"Your instinct knows more than your temple elders have
taught you, priestess." The queen's molten tone reached her dimly. "Yours
is the classic expression of a woman spread naked before hungry eyes, shamed
into arousal, and thirsting for more."
There was a brief silence.
Gabrielle opened her eyes to see Xena standing before her, looking
at her quizzically. She held two small, evil-looking hinged clamps an inch
from her breasts. The bard's eyes widened.
"Uhhh . . . what's up with those?" Gabrielle whispered.
"The priestess's pleasure will be much more intense if
I . . ." Xena let her voice trail off as she waggled the delicate chain
connecting the clamps invitingly.
Gabrielle's breasts rose and fell once with her deep breath.
She searched Xena's face.
"Do you trust me?" Xena whispered.
"Always."
Xena nodded, thumbed open the clamps, and snapped them over
the swollen nipples.
Gabrielle arched violently, and her breath emerged in a strangled
moan. The pain was immediate, streaking up her breasts and sizzling in her
throbbing, clamped knobs. The first stinging shock retreated to a bearable,
but darkly erotic, throbbing. The bard held her position, panting, her back
curved, her breasts jutting, the delicate gold chain bouncing between them.
Xena was deciding she really, really liked theater.
Gabrielle felt a dry, slithering tickle wash over the creamy
swells of her breasts, and her eyes shot open. Xena stood before her, slowly
draping the half-dozen thin tethers that composed her flail over one of her
lover's breasts, then the other. Gabrielle's nerve faltered again at the sight
of the small whip.
"Xena . . . "
"Say the word, and I'll stop." The blue eyes on the
girl's breasts were still remote and cold, the gaze of the queen -- but the
rich, loving voice was Xena's. Gabrielle looked into Xena's hooded gaze, and
saw a carefully banked flame of arousal in her eyes. That decided her. A thrill
of alien joy sang through Gabrielle's blood, and her chin lifted.
"Scourge me as you will, wanton queen. You can possess
this body, caress these curves and violate the sanctity of my chastity . .
. "
Xena was mesmerized. Her eyebrows rose, and she waited. "But?"
she whispered finally.
"No buts." Gabrielle frowned. "Caress these curves
and violate some sanctity."
A burst of laughter escaped Xena, a pure peal of child-like
pleasure, before her eyes darkened again, and she snapped the flail across
Gabrielle's bare breasts.
That knocked whatever look of smugness Gabrielle might have
worn straight off her face.
"This is no scourging, girl," Xena murmured, hefting
the right breast with the handle of the flail, then letting it drop, "because
this is no whip. If I wanted you scourged, I'd have brought a cat. This pussy
won't even scratch your porcelin skin."
Gabrielle's breath was starting to hitch in her chest, making
her full globes bounce in the firelight. The flail struck the left breast
next, and her shoulders jerked back as she flinched, her blonde hair sweeping
across her damp brow.
But instead of fear, there was a dauntless challenge growing
in Gabrielle's eyes. The tethers across the bard's nipples made her cry out,
but it was less a plea for mercy than a warcry. Green fire flashed from Gabrielle's
eyes, directly into Xena's icy blue ones. She began to writhe in her bonds
in earnest, her back arching away from the lash, her hips grinding in flat
circles as the whipping continued.
Xena handled the flail as skillfully as her partner welded her
quills, and with equally poetic results. Her blue eyes deepened with pleasure
as she watched her lover battle her restraints, her own wetness soft and steaming
between her legs.
The flail whickered through the chill air, slapping across the
flat belly, the top of one thigh. It left blushing red lines in its wake,
but no real injury -- just fleeting trails of stinging heat that stoked the
girl's arousal higher.
Suddenly Xena adjusted her aim from an adroit overhand to a
quicksilver undersnap, which sent the flail slapping up between Gabrielle's
wide-spread legs. The leather strips smacked stingingly against her tender
folds, curling around her damp nether lips to emerge with a crack between
her taut buttocks.
Gabrielle's head dropped back and she emitted a soft scream,
her pudenda held rigid between her straining thighs as she absorbed the pain.
She had no real time to register the changing of sensation, from pain to erotic
pleasure, before she was jerked back to full awareness.
The tall warrior was behind her again, the heavy black silk
of her cloak skating lightly over Gabrielle's nakedness as she moved. She
jammed her left arm across her slender throat, and pulled her head up against
her shoulder. Her right hand, meanwhile, went foraging.
The long fingers skated once over her cold breasts, then snarled
in the gold chain between them and tugged. Gabrielle grunted loudly as her
nipples were squeezed in the pinching clamps, knowing the spectacle she made
as she arched her back against Xena, her face filling with color. The dark
warrior breathed the words she'd written in her ear, as delicious heat bubbled
through her groin.
"In the early days of my rule," the queen whispered,
fingering the trembling, clamped nipples, "this kind of negotiation was
held before my assembled court. I wanted my victim surrounded by hundreds
of lusting eyes, serenaded by the jeers and envious gasps of my courtiers.
. . "
Xena released Gabrielle's neck, and slid the flail down the
shining curves of her breasts and belly. She snarled the damp leather into
the soft hair between the girl's legs, and began grinding it gently in circles
against her open vulva. One hand kept twisting the chain connecting the clamped
nipples, as the other ground the leather strips against the bard's swelling
clit.
"Look at them, priestess." Xena gripped Gabrielle's
chin in her hand tightly, squeezing until the green eyes opened. "They're
out there now, in the dark, just beyond the flames that illuminate your twisting
body for their pleasure. Feel their eyes on you, crawling over your luscious
breasts -- " A sharp flick of a fingernail against one turgid nipple
made the bard cry out. "Delving into the sweet, furry darkness between
your sluttishly spread legs -- "
It built in her -- that dark, hissing voice behind her, the
image of ravenous eyes, the sinister twirl of the flail in her wetness. Gabrielle
lowered her head and tried to fold into herself, to hide her body from the
insatiable hunger of the demon queen who held her. But Xena flattened her
forearm against her taut throat and jerked her erect, still stirring the leather
strips busily into her twitching slit.
"Will you sign, little priestess? Or should I turn you
over to them, to the grasping hands and skewering cocks of my soldiers? Would
you prefer their probing to my tender touch, this gentle tickling of your
-- "
Gabrielle bucked once in her arms, and came like a banshee,
her hips thrusting uncontrollably through crashing waves of climax. Her head
dropped back against Xena's shoulder and the cords in her neck stood out in
sharp relief as she snapped rigid with the final surge, the leather still
grinding furiously against her cunt -- and then, finally, slowing to a calming,
circling motion as she came down.
Gabrielle didn't see Xena bend to cut the two ropes binding
her ankles, and she didn't remember the warrior easing her down to the ground.
Her arms were still tied behind her, but the straining tension in her thighs
relaxed at last as she collapsed in the grass. She leaned heavily against
Xena, who supported her with one warm arm bracing her shaking shoulders. She
stroked her short blond hair, murmuring comfort as the bard regained her composure.
Gabrielle heard her make a clicking sound of regret.
"My timing's off," Xena sighed.
Gabrielle cleared her throat, still trying to bring her pulse
into normal range. "T-timing?"
"Yeah, the queen has two more of those little monologues
before the priestess reaches climax." Xena sounded disappointed. "Really
good speeches, too, more about those watching courtiers and probing -- "
"Cut 'em," Gabrielle gasped, resting her head on Xena's
chest. "I'm cutting the last two monologues, by -- the gods -- or my
audience will perish of -- exploded hearts.
Xena smiled, tickling a circle around the top of Gabrielle's
bare shoulder. "We can't have that."
Gabrielle lifted her head with effort, and blinked blearily
up into Xena's warm blue eyes. The bard's lips curled into a feline, satisfied
smile as she nuzzled the warrior's neck. "Curtain," she murmured.
_____ *** _____
* Curtain *
Intermission
RAVISHED: A PLAY IN THREE ACTS
by Gabrielle the Bard
(This is your last chance. Be sure you haven't been chained
to your monitor, forced to absorb this smut against your will.)
Act III
_____ *** ______
"Curtain," Gabrielle repeated, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned
her head against Xena's shoulder. "Time out. Halt. Just five minutes.
Please."
With one effortless movement, Xena swept Gabrielle up into her
arms and rose to her feet. "Not a problem."
"Whoa!" Gabrielle slapped the warrior's chest, laughing.
"Xena, we don't need a caveman-type ravishing as a subplot! Believe me,
what we've got is more than -- "
"Hush, Bri." Xena held her young partner against her
chest, and puffed a wisp of blonde hair softly off her forehead. "It's
been a long night, just rest for a moment."
"You're serious?" Bleary green eyes batted teasingly.
"You're calling a king's-ex, here? I'm not going to doze off, and suddenly
find the queen is forcefully defiling the princess again in her sleep?"
"Nah. Maybe later." Xena grinned down at her, patting
her shoulder absently. "Tell you what. When I get you back to camp, I'll
wait for you to doze off. Then I'll defile you again so thoroughly, we won't
see Argo for a week."
"Argo?" Gabrielle was startled out of a yawn. "Is
that why she keeps taking off on us?"
"Honey, you haven't heard yourself when you get going.
The shrieking
alone -- "
"Wimpy prude warhorse."
"Hey."
"Sorry." Gabrielle smiled and gave Xena's cheek a
sisterly kiss.
"Those ropes too tight?"
The bard tested the bonds tying her arms behind her back, wrist
to elbow. "No, they're fine."
"You're not too cold?"
"Xena, I'm buck naked. Of course I'm cold."
"Okay. We can take care of that."
Gabrielle lifted her head from Xena's shoulder warily. "Curtain
time again, huh?"
Xena's shrugged, her blue eyes steady. Unlike her partner's,
her sexual boiler system had not had the opportunity, as yet, to dump pressure,
and she was more than willing to proceed with the evening's entertainment.
It was, however -- now and forever -- Gabrielle's call.
Gabrielle saw the banked flame of arousal in her lover's eyes,
and she shivered with anticipation. Then she rested her lips against the warm
skin at the base of the warrior's taut throat. She kissed Xena, gently, with
the lightest brush of her tongue at the end. Then she looked up at her, her
green eyes filling with a light as rich with love as lust.
"Xena. You listening?"
Xena started, breaking her transfixed gaze from the bard's eyes
with effort.
Gabrielle waited until she focused on her again, smiling slightly, knowing
her power. Knowing exactly who was in charge tonight, because that was their
agreement. The younger woman felt that trust between them as vividly as the
touch of Xena's fingers on her face.
"Fear at first. That works best for me."
Xena nodded agreement.
"But I want to end strong." Gabrielle dimpled. "That's
best for you."
"Hey . . . thank you." Xena was touched.
Gabrielle smiled, her head moved forward, and she kissed Xena's
throat again, the soft, pulsing skin over the jugular. This time the bard
used her teeth, biting gently, sucking hard.
Xena stood it as long as she could, and then she snarled and
dropped one arm, letting the younger woman's legs fall.
The priestess caught herself on the queen's shoulder, alarm
streaking through her blood like cold mercury. Which also described the temperature
of the ice-blue eyes inches above her. The blonde woman staggered, her arms
pinned behind her throwing off her balance, and almost fell when the queen
pushed her roughly away. She lifted one hand, and the priestess saw that she
held the end of the slender chain that linked the clamps pinching her nipples.
Instinctively the princess straightened and stood very still,
breathing rapidly, her green eyes large and frightened on the cruel face watching
her.
"Arch your back, girl."
The priestess did. And tried to ignore the warmth that washed
through her groin as her breasts bulged, the clamped nipples quivering under
the cold gaze. She noted a sheen of sweat shining on the queen's high forehead
as her eyes feasted on her firm, bobbing breasts.
"Come."
The command was quietly given. The queen took a step backwards,
then another, until the delicate chain held taut in the space separating the
dark woman and the light one. The queen stopped. Her mouth curled in a snarl
and she jerked her fingers, making the priestess's pink nipples constrict
in the chewing grip of the clamps. The priestess's lips tightened. She made
herself move. Her mind's eye tried to banish the image of herself being led
by a chain clipped to her nipples across the grove.
The queen escorted the naked girl to a wide, fallen tree bordering
one side of the roaring campfire. Of considerable girth, the rough bark of
the dead tree was softened with a thick layer of moss. The queen dropped the
chain, swept off the midnight swirl of her cloak, and spread it over the fallen
tree.
She made the priestess lift one leg over the trunk and straddle
it. The queen assumed the same position, one leg on either side of the tree,
facing her. The taller woman regarded her frightened adversary with a patronizing
smile.
(Gabrielle longed to slap that look off her tall lover's face,
but she quelled the impulse, stayed in character, and shivered with rising
need.)
"Sit down and lie back."
The priestess sat with a quick economy of movement and a minimum
of drama. Laying back came harder, because it meant revealing her widely-spread
legs to the queen's gaze. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and
lowered her elbows to the log behind her. Her muscled thighs were splayed
over the curve of the trunk, her golden mound beautifully exposed between
them.
The priestess adjusted the weight of her upper body on her elbows,
trying to find comparative comfort. The shifting also enabled her to keep
her gaze lowered, away from the avid heat of the blue eyes on her neat, naked
vulva.
The queen stood over her prey, still fingering the gold chain,
enjoying the flexing of the flat belly, the quivering in the thighs as the
priestess fought the urge to close her legs. She lowered herself to the curved
surface, her eyes locked on the red-gold cleft.
"It's never a good idea to rush into these things."
The queen's voice held a lazy drawl as she raked her wild dark hair off her
forehead. "In a way, this is my favorite part. When I have them positioned
and ready for me, but before I touch them again." Cold blue eyes twinkled,
condescendingly. "You getting any kind of rush out of this yet, priestess?"
The younger woman felt like a sacrifical offering draped over
an altar. She looked down at her naked body and whimpered with shame, seeing
the livid red lines lacing the milk-white globes of her breasts. The priestess
swallowed, and made herself meet her captor's eyes. "Nothing you can
do to me will shake my resolve, evil queen. You can torture my body until
snow blankets this grove, and I will never sign your treaty."
"I hadn't counted on either of us being here long enough
to see the leaves turn." The sensual lips curled. "Perhaps speedier
action is called for."
The queen lifted the small leather flail, reversed it, and showed
the priestess the thick, braided tethers of its long shaft.
"No," the priestess whispered, her eyes filling.
"You don't command in this grove, priestess."
The queen fit the smooth, knotted end of the flail into the
wet cleft between the priestess's thighs. With one firm thrust, she pushed
the leather shaft deeply up the cringing girl's vaginal tunnel.
The priestess's crotch thrust into the air and she unleashed
a breathless scream, her hips rooting helplessly as she was engorged with
leather. The queen shoved the whiphandle deeper, working it in by inches,
her ringing laughter blending with the gasps of her victim.
"They're still here, priestess, can you feel them?"
The queen's low voice was a sensuous purr, her fist clenching around the shaft
as she began to pull it back out. "The leering eyes of my court, watching
you struggle and bounce. Can you feel their hands, prying your knees apart,
lifting your hips, that I might grind deeper into you?"
The whip's shaft plunged into the priestess again, skewering
up her greased channel, scraping erotically against its clinging walls. She
screamed a second time, a broken chain of cries exploding between her clenched
teeth as she writhed madly on the log.
The queen fell silent save for a low, musical humming as she
worked her prisoner, twisting the rod in her hand as it plunged in and out.
She wasn't looking at the young woman's cunt anymore. Instead her gaze locked
on the stunned fear in the wide green eyes, the tears coursing unchecked down
the contorted face.
The reaming continued, grew harsher.
And slowly the priestess changed, transforming from a terrorized
victim into a captive noblewoman, enraged by her violation. She began thrusting
her open crotch toward the queen, in vicious defiance.
"Impale me, vile one," she spat, her blond hair bouncing
with the repeated thrusts. "Sink into me, plow me, dig your leather cock
deeper -- "
The queen emitted a gutteral groan and complied, pistoning in
and out of her now. Then, abruptly, she flicked her wrist, and the tethered
end of the flail snapped forward. The leather lashes slapped up over the jouncing
breasts, snapping against the bursting, clamped nipples. In the same moment,
the queen yanked the chain connecting the clamps upward, snapping them off
the turgid buds just as the whip lashed them.
The priestess shrieked.
The queen's thumb mashed cruelly down on the girl's straining,
spasming clitoris, grinding hard against the nerve-rich nub.
The priestess crashed through swirling waves of pleasure and
climaxed, convulsing mindlessly on the log, her crotch swiveling and rooting
in pitched ecstacy.
The queen yanked the leather whip-phallus free and threw it
from her. She dove over the priestess's supine form and carried her, tumbling,
off of the log to roll in the grass. In a dizzy haze of thrashing limbs, the
queen managed to draw her knife and cut the young priestess's arms free.
They grappled with each other in the soft, cold thickness of
the grass, still hissing obscenities. Only very gradually did the spitting
curses soften into laughter -- first one bark of it, then an answering one,
until both women lay limp in each other's arms, giggling like schoolgirls.
Gabrielle curled into Xena's lap, snugging the warm black silk
of her cloak around them both. She rested her head on the warrior's chest,
drained to the point of stupor.
Xena stretched one arm out, snagged the gunny sack, and pulled
it to her side. She rummaged in it until she found their wineskin. She plucked
the cork out of it with her teeth, and spat it into the fire. She was feeling
pretty mellow herself.
"Mam'selle? A leetle veeno? Ze grape of ze veen-yard, to
cool your t'roat aftore your ree-gors?"
Gabrielle sputtered laughter against Xena's breast as she accepted
the dripping wineskin. "I did not write the queen as the madam of an
Italian bordello, Xena."
"You're jealous because I still do accents better than
you."
"This is true." Gabrielle took a deep swig of wine.
She sloshed it in her mouth with unsophisticated relish. Xena's cloak fell
open enough to reveal the lush curves of her body. The bard looked down at
herself with dismay, and spat the wine into the grass.
"Xena -- blast you! Look at me, I'm striped!"
Xena peered over her partner's shoulder, and smiled at the evidence
of their night's work. Red lines weaved prettily over the creamy swells of
the bard's naked breasts. Gabrielle noticed her scrutiny, and snatched the
cloak over her breasts again with an indignant squeak.
Xena chortled at this bizarre exhibition of modesty. "Will
you stop worrying, please? Those marks will be gone by morning."
"They'd better be." Gabrielle sulked, opening the
cloak just wide enough to peek at her chest again. "We're supposed to
visit my family now, Xena. Do you want to explain to Lila why her sister's
bosoms look like candy Soltice canes? Oh, you think that's funny? My mother
birthed no strumpets, warrior." Gabrielle thumped back Xena's chest,
rather heavily.
"Oof." Xena chuckled, stretching, and then she wrapped
her arms snugly around Gabrielle's shoulders. "No, but she birthed one
hell of a good bard. You've written a wonderful play, Gabrielle. It's a shame
it can't be staged on the Appian Way."
"Why shouldn't it?" Gabrielle smiled dreamily and
lay back more tenderly against the dark woman. "Sure, it's risque, but
Grecian drama is filled with sex and plunder."
"Well, there are those who will object to the -- uh, forceful
nature of the queen's seduction of the priestess," Xena said tactfully.
"Even other playwrights might be uncomfortable with it. They might refuse
to have their productions staged on the same street as yours."
"Other playwrights should know better," Gabrielle
yawned. "I'm not claiming my play's suitable for children, for Hera's
sake."
"Well, you might want to point that out." Xena squinted,
thoughtfully. "Not a claim of sexiness -- maybe a -- disclaim? A disclaimer
thing, right in front of the theater, warning the faint of heart away."
"Hey, that'll do it." Gabrielle craned her neck and
smiled up at Xena, pleased. "I'll write a disclaimer for Ravished, and
every playwright in Greece will support my right to artistic freedom. After
all, it's their freedom too, right?"
Xena smiled at Gabrielle, a little sadly. "You're so young."
"It's a love story, Xena. You know that."
"I know that."
"Therefore." Gabrielle squirmed around in Xena's embrace
until she was facing her. "My script does hold one tragic flaw . . .
it seems to me the lucky priestess gets the better part of the deal . . .
like, three times?" Gabrielle's hand slipped beneath Xena's breastplate.
"While the poor, neglected queen . . . "
"Gabrielle." Xena's sly brow lifted. "Are you
telling me you're ready for Act Four?"
"Why not?" Gabrielle licked her lips, and began unbuckling
the warrior's armor. "This bard's quills ain't about to run dry . . .
"
* Curtain *
Finis
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