Prelude and desire...(Dance Part 2)

Saif of Kashani: *He broke the kiss, his face resting against hers as two

wild larls might brush one another in affection, then he pulled away from

her. His eyes opening once more to look on her.* Dance girl, dance with the

music they play, and when

Saif of Kashani: the song ends, to me you will bow. Then to my lap will you

come. *He didn't ask, he said, in a way that seemed as if he knew she would

do as he told her to. Perhaps it was arrogance, or something else that drove

him to say that, but

Saif of Kashani: say it he did.* D

Bohemian Visage: Brushing her face against him once more. Breathing across

his ear when he pulled back the woman looked into his eyes. Lifting her hand

to brush across his lips. Then bowing her head in submission to his wishes.

Drawing away from him

Bohemian Visage: she rose straight up again, turning upon barefeet, looking

to the musicians that awaited. Would she please them as well, envoke jealousy

in the hearts of the jira that lingered, would she make the Drummer crave

her, want her as

Bohemian Visage: Agrippa had when she was found in the Tavern and danced for

him? Fingers pushed through her hair, playing with it. Getting a feel for the

tempo of the dance and what was in her heart and more in her soul. It needed

released. So she

Bohemian Visage: would break the command and dance not only to the music,

but was in her.**

Bohemian Visage: Into the sands she stepped. Draped in sliver, bathed in

moon light. Turning to him, left leg crossed before her right one. Bowing her

back, offering her body up to the stars that reigned the night. Her hand over

her heart, as the

Bohemian Visage: pluse of the music started, there was the exact rise nad

fall of her chest. It was sharp like the beating of her heart, the sound of

the smaller drums heard, they pulled at her hips. Rocking them back and forth

with a little kick

Bohemian Visage: out of her leg to the accented beats. Rising up slowly with

the flute chiming in. Arms were a dance of seduction, moving with the

beautiful meldoy that cresendo to rise before the drums. So she lulled

forward in time with the drums,

Saif of Kashani: *He took up his drum, keeping the bass dooms of the song,

while the others played the rest, eyes ever on the girl while she rode the

music, as a ship might ride the sea. He always watched her, perhaps he

expected her to vanish if he

Saif of Kashani: closed his eyes to long.*d

Bohemian Visage: turning a quarter to give her hip to him in a way. Arms

rose above her, ticking of her exposed hip to him, rolling her leg around

lifting it from the sands. Excitement coursed her face. Rolling her hands

above her, letting the music

Bohemian Visage: drive right through her. The booms made her chest push out

to him and retract. Moving in small circles now, on the balls of her feet,

before wider more bold movements of her hips. Pushing her whole body to the

music. Letting her

Bohemian Visage: hands come before her for a moment an almost innocent look

was given to him. Then there was the sultry walk towards him, well to the

edge of the sands and there she paused. Flush facing him, she fell to her

knees and flat to her

Bohemian Visage: back no there was no pain as the dance was cut from her

strings so it apeared. Every base he produced, pulled up her body, into a

deep bow, and she did not stop, a few horts up and dropped one back. Arms

dancing before her then fell

Bohemian Visage: behind her. Letting her torso rise, her head was between

her knees. Rising from that position, before her head was held up, the deep

drop and rise of her hips could be seen again, the ripples pushed up through

her stomach to her

Saif of Kashani: *Yes he wanted her, but even as she danced me noted the

color she danced in, within he hoped she was not a white silk. He longed to

drag her dance to a more private place, but the music held him as it held

her. Drawing his hands

Bohemian Visage: rib cage that moved as if seperated from her body. Rolling

of her shoulders arms come back to play once more. Head lifted, arms enlope

her torso. Stretching out her right leg and leaned to the left until her

shoulder touched the

Saif of Kashani: with the beat, as only one who knows how to hear his own

heart can be drawn with it. He knew the rythme of his heart, the way to play

the trance that even in sleep his hands would play. He had played it before.

Now he played to

Bohemian Visage: ground, she was in sliver and white yes, but she was far

from it. It was the base garments for a seven layer veil dance. Left arm

uncoiled from her body, stretching out, fingers reaching for something that

remained out of reach. Her

Saif of Kashani: stoke a firem not lul it. Even as he played he saw in her

reflected a spark, or was that simply his own eyes playing tricks on him.*

Bohemian Visage: breathing quicked, but her hip rose up, pushing her ass

out, and tucked it under still she writhed there on the sands. Much like an

orcal in the fabled tales. Top arm came to caress down before her body, down

the length of exposed

Bohemian Visage: torso, before the undulating hips, bottom leg was her base

support, standing on said knee, top leg was streched out, a good dancer, it

was said could make a man crave her with the beauty of just moving her ankle,

and thus she did,

Bohemian Visage: top arm rose up in an arch, so by the time it came to raise

above her hip the movement had returned there, and it followed the path of

the beautifully moving arm up through her chest, rotating her body so she was

still upon one knee

Bohemian Visage: bottom arm still stretched out above her head, the crown of

her head there in the sands, a halo of redish carmel spread around about her,

with her belly exposed to the moon light. The twist and rolls of fingers and

wrist, brought

Bohemian Visage: another life to her body. The pluse was felt through her,

right leg (top leg) was drawn through the sands, with the arching of her

foot, pulling it back to her body, until heel was pressed into her rear. A

catch of breath and a

Bohemian Visage: moan that had been boiling inside of her. Drawning her

body, further progressing that bow. When her head came to press against her

rear it was then both hands formed their dance of envy above her, like

drifting scarves of silk

Bohemian Visage: dancing above the woman. Her torso began to rise like the

sun. Still following the progression with every deep base, her arms the

flute, her hips and stomach the other drums, her legs the vocals that rang

through. Now upon one knee

Bohemian Visage: and tip of her toe, she looked to him, snapping fully up. A

feral like hunger over taking her, she bared her teeth, a flare of her nose

as those heather soft curls fell around her, lean forward, hands slowly

caressed the sides of

Saif of Kashani: *He forced himself to keep the proper tempo, his beats

could speed the song up if he wished but he would follow the rythme he knew

it should have. Holding the moment of her returning to him off, letting the

anticipation build with

Bohemian Visage: her body. One came to sweep her hair from her face. Once

again, a gentle pull and her head was drawn back, could he feel the need that

was displayed upon her face. The way her lips parted in egar anticipation,

the way her throat

Saif of Kashani: each rattle of the other drums, feeling the desire for her

as a living thing in himself each time he hit his own instrument. He felt the

heat from her as if it was his own, or perhaps it was, it had been far to

long since one had

Saif of Kashani: danced so well before him. Since last he walked the sands

of his homeland.*

Bohemian Visage: constricted, her body pulsing with his beats. Her own loins

were burning hotter than the braziers that burned around them. Pressing her

bust to her knee, she pulled her self along the knee, soon the serpent was

rising once again. A

Bohemian Visage: pause in her rise just enough to press her hands to the

sands. Droping her head, then threw it back, hair sent in a long tail arch

above her head to crash around the damp flesh that felt every bit as alive as

the drum beats now

Bohemian Visage: echoing through her. Looking to him, the song was waning,

her need was growing. Seeing his look her body shivered despite the actual

heat that was radiating from her flesh. Now on her hands and knees facing

him, her shoulders rolled

Bohemian Visage: like a stalking predator, the deep base drew up her back

and caused her to push it down. A living breathing accent to his song. The

tick of the other drums forced her arms forward, gliding her knees in

oposition behind her hands.

Bohemian Visage: Extending her body, stalking the drumer. Throwing in the

test of control. To keep the base line moving in perfection, to draw what he

desired to him. Slipping lower with every last beat. Soon she would come to

reach him. Streching

Bohemian Visage: out her arms so they framed his knees, without her being on

top of him, her head lowered her bust came to the ground, her back swayed,

soon with the last stretch of note her knees spread out and her hips pushed

down and she was

Bohemian Visage: before him. Ragged breaths raped her lungs, making her

throat horse, but while there should be fatigue in her muscles, there was

only a life and hunger to be filled.-d

Saif of Kashani: *In that he felt like a cotton mouth, it's tail drawing in

what it wanted before it struck. In this he played on letting the sound be

his lure. Bringing the girl to him, his eyes taking her in, accessing her as

if she were on

Saif of Kashani: display. Then the song was over, his own hand striking the

last note on the drum. Leaving him free to lean forward, and whisper in her

ear, his breath playing over her sweat glossed skin.* How the heat rises in

you girl, beg of me

Saif of Kashani: what you desire. *He then leaned back from her, eyes ever

on her down turned head and back. Looking to see what those words did to that

body of hers, would fear stiffin it, or would desire force it onward. He

longed to know what was

Saif of Kashani: within her, the way only a master could know from a slave.

By testing her, even more than he had thus far, though what little he had

told him of the passion she possed hidden under the surface of that

emotionless face.*

Saif of Kashani: d

Bohemian Visage: It was not fear that grappled with the woman before him.

Feeling his breath and nearly tasting his words against her flesh. Her head

lifted and looked boldly to him once more. A softer look held her facial

features, but it was raw

Bohemian Visage: lust that echoed in her eyes. "Please Master, act out your

desires upon my flesh... please Master, i wish to feel what I have envoked

with in your... pleasure, displeasure. I beg to know... Please" The

desperation was running

Bohemian Visage: rampant in her voice, he had said to his lap, so she rose

up and progressed to him closer. Leaning over his lap one hand then the other

come to frame the empty lap, stretching out her aching body, plusing still

with the echos of his

Bohemian Visage: drum still inside of her. Breathing hotly across his neck

and then lift of her chin brought her ears closer to his ear. "Please Master,

I beg of you, touch me as it would please you, please I beg mercy from my own

bodies need."

Bohemian Visage: Wetting her lips daring to actually come to his lap as her

knees touch his shins. Aching, it was a slow progression, but she was not use

to being so raw, so needy, so very utterly helpless.-d

Saif of Kashani: *His hands ran up her legs as she moved closer to his lap,

finger tips trailing over the heated flesh that lay between knee and hip on

the outside of those long marvels that had just made her move so for him. His

hands cupped the

Saif of Kashani: naked flesh of her bottom, pulling her foward to sit on his

lap, forcing her to straddle him. She would feel his desire for her then,

straining against what he wore, and pressing up on her heat. Softly his hips

lifted, pressing it

Saif of Kashani: against her and upward toward that sensitive nub. As he did

this, he leaned into her, his lips finding her neck on the right side.

Placing a firm, yet gentle bite, in the crook where the shoulder intersected

her swan like, graceful

Saif of Kashani: length of sensuous skin.*d

Muse of the night (part one... Dance)

Saif of Kashani: *He had managed to aquire the use of pleasure guarden all

to himself, for no small amount of coin, to which he had men deliver food of

many types, along with Ka-la-na and even turian wine. Among all this he sat

in foolish splendor,

Bohemian Visage: the true love she had for dancing, he might be more prone

to seeking another way to figure out his puzzle of a slave. Catching the

sound in the distance, she turned, fluid like the wind guided her completely.

Long fingers pushed

Saif of Kashani: druming away at his drum. Doom ka tek, ka tek ka doom doom,

repeated over and over while he warmed up.*

Bohemian Visage: through redish tint curls setting them to move freely about

her back. The skirts were designed to show off more of her body than hide

them. Seeing the drumer there in the gardens, she found herself drawn to it.

It had to be the

Bohemian Visage: gyspsy spirt in her. Walking towards him, long strides as

she moved to the beat of the drum. Fingers trailed over her flat stomach. She

approched him more boldly, like the she sleen awoke from its hibernation.

Slipping down to her

Bohemian Visage: knees crawling to him, lips parted as the heated breath of

anticipation rolled freely. Moving closer still, transfixed upon the drum and

the music he played. Enthralled, more than like the most expression ever

seen, Even if her face

Bohemian Visage: showed none of it, her eyes were slowly progressing to

animation-d

Saif of Kashani: *Seeing that look he actually smiled at the girl, then

removed his kaffiyeh made of white cloth from his head, and began to play in

earnest. Hands moving with skill over the drum head, drawing the sounds from

it in one long drawn

Saif of Kashani: out rhythm, Doom doom, tek ka tek, doom tek ka tek, tek ka

tek, doom tek ka tek, doom tek ka tek, tek doom doom, tek ka tek, tek ka tek.

Was repeated by his hands, working over the drum, a wild rhythm leaned in the

tahari. His eyes

Saif of Kashani: however never left the girls, they burned on her. She was

kajira after all, made for men to want, and he was a man so why should he not

look at her that way. To many let such worries guide them these days.* Dance.

*He said, his tone

Saif of Kashani: making it an order to the girl.* d

Bohemian Visage: When the drum started she felt that pull deep inside of

her, that draw that lured her closer to him. Almost tasting the music as it

started to progress. Feeling it, keeping her eyes firmly pinned upon his own.

Hips curled down over

Bohemian Visage: raised heels, her fingers pressed into the earth below her,

arching her body towards him through the framing of arms. A long draw of

tongue to the inside of her lips. Lifting slowly, her body began to stir.

Evidence of a life

Bohemian Visage: dawning, under the moons light that played over the sliver,

bringing a fire brilliance to it. She leaned forward, her fingers lifted up

the discarded piece of fabric drawing it closer to him. She had a soft scen

upon her skin,

Bohemian Visage: something exotic with the sweet kiss of sweet and alluring.

The fabric was held by one corner of fore finger and middle, she did not

rock, enough strength and control she lifted from where she was. With knees

coming to press

Bohemian Visage: together, hips worked to follow the beat he gave out.

Coming to stand fully at six feet. Left arm began to move, fingers curling

into the palm of her hand and then out. Creating an illusion.

Bohemian Visage: Right leg comes to slip out further, dangerously close to

his feet, then drew back again. Lower undulations of her body began. Hips

dipped down, tucking and pulling upwards, moving just her abdomin and hips in

an alluring rocking

Bohemian Visage: and roll up through to her lower ribs. The fabric was used

to draw eye, to be the temptation of movement. Freedom. It is what it

represented. Slowly her head lulled back in a delicate manner, swan like neck

was stretched out, left

Bohemian Visage: arm rose up, directing eyes and keeping time with the

softer side of the music he produced. Her hips still found the spice of the

beat. Left leg carefull would whirl her to give him a profile view of the

tall slave before him.

Bohemian Visage: Rapture gripped through her. Still just the lower hip

undulations were done. Arms both rise of her head, letting the fabric lay

behind her for now, it moved with the whisper of wind and her body movements.

A few more movements such

Saif of Kashani: *He rose then, never stopping his drumming, though he

slightly sped up the tempo. The drum held against his side by his forearm,

elbow in the bend of it, and left hand pressed against the rim. His right

fell flat on the head,

Bohemian Visage: as that, she pushed out her left leg, lifting it to the tip

of her big toe, leaving her hip free reign to move, and that is what it would

do. Up and down, slower at first and then quickened more. With a few leg kick

outs. Eyes

Saif of Kashani: bringing out each doom, while the fingers of his left hand

snapped close bringing the teks from the drums, before his right caught the

drum once more on the edge. Pulling out the ka's, he walked around her as he

played. Noting her

Saif of Kashani: style and movement. Each step he took slow and deliberate,

until he was behind her, then he stopped a moment. Still playing, his eyes

studying her while he did so.*

Bohemian Visage: tracked the man as he rose. Fingers curled tighter into the

fabric over head, left hand slides down her arm and captures the center of

it, pulling it around her. It was held above her head, fingers held tightly

to that white strip,

Bohemian Visage: it was her freedom, hips slowed in this progress. Her heart

rate lifted a bit more, even drew up her chest, relaxing her shoulders.

Drawing her knees together, there was a twist up to the balls of her feet.

Hips rolled up once and

Bohemian Visage: back down, the quickened pace as heat crawled through her

body. Slowly her head tilted back letting long curls play in the nights muse

behind her. Left hand slipped down the length of the fabric so it came to

dance across her torso

Bohemian Visage: A more wicked way did her body move. With the physicial

feel of eyes upon her body. She moved like the piece of fabric did, a serpant

rising from its basket, charmed by the drum, --so to speak-- Arms moved in

seperation of her body.

Bohemian Visage: Letting the music pour through her, eyes come to close for

a moment, lips parted an a quiver rises through her flesh. Righting herself

once more. Chest and torso, sway, rolling in fluid perfection. Letting is

drip down to her hips

Bohemian Visage: all the way through to her toes. Looking over her shoulder

towards him, expression bloomed over those fathomless features, the life that

punctuated each feature upon her face, could steal breath. Sharp snaps of her

hips then she

Bohemian Visage: changed directions, letting the rolls come from left side

and exit the right, first down then back up, doing the same with the right.

As the right side rippled up, her body leaned that way, jetting out her hip,

displaying the long

Saif of Kashani: *She would note the sound of the doom changing the as he

hit the last one in the song, his fingers pressing down into the stretched

hide to alter it's should, signaling that he would start to end the song now.

He slowed the tempo,

Bohemian Visage: line of her spine to him, hair fell free so he could be

witness to the body in fluid motion. Left hip left exposed, her leg snaked

out from the fabric, its own dance of seduction. Once toes were pointed she

stepped to them. As he

Saif of Kashani: down, he would play through the song thrice more before he

ended it. His steps taking him around her in slow circles as he did so.*

Bohemian Visage: slowed his tempo, her body found a gentle sway to it.

Turning to him for the moment, it was almost a saddness that caressed her

eyes and forced a pout upon her lips. When the tempo began anew, she could

feel the thrill echo in her

Bohemian Visage: very bones. Drawning her to him, just before he moved

around her. He was her ring of fire, she could not help but dance to him, the

arousal was becoming aparent in each movement of flesh. Right hand joined

left with the fabric,

Bohemian Visage: wrapping it around her wrists binding them above her. Right

leg drew a cresent from its place before her, to behind her. Predatory gaze

followed him while he moved. Like a bolt of lightening that struck her, a

small cry came from

Bohemian Visage: her lips and her body dipped down, letting her bound wrists

fall before her. Closing her off once more to the world.-d

Saif of Kashani: *With that he moved back to where he had set before, his

hands laying aside the drum. He watched her then, motioning one of the

guarden slaves to lay out water and a towel to him. He layed them out and

waited for the girl to rise. A

Saif of Kashani: clap of his hands brought out muscians he had higherer to

play along with him. He had been druming to simply give them their lead, now

they set about the sands in a circle. Prepairing their instruments, getting

ready for their part

Saif of Kashani: in his night of revelry. His burnoose hung about him,

resting in folds against his small taharian rug which he used as a matt.

While he watched the girl catch her breath he took up fruit with his right

hand, eating it slowly one

Saif of Kashani: piece at a time. Savoring the taste of what he ate, as much

as he savored every moment of life. Tonight however the fruit tasted bland,

he felt a hunger for once, that no flavor would sate. His eyes burned on her

as he realized this

Saif of Kashani: , and with it his true want of the dancing girl. If only

for a night he would see to it that he had this girl.*

Bohemian Visage: She rose to her feet now. Turning to him, walking with a

sultry passion that could not be contained on a mortal plane. Everymovement

was flawless and perfection from the top of her head to her toes. She would

remove her sandals.

Bohemian Visage: Leaning over and slipping down to a crouch draped the

fabric around his neck and looked into his eyes for a moment. She watched as

the other musicians came into the gardens. A spark of fire burned in her

eyes, her pupils dilated

Bohemian Visage: with arousal of the soul, sensory need was spilling free as

it ran over the rim of her own control. Hearing them. She rose up. Turning to

walk a bit from him. Gracing the sands this time, lowering down to pay homage

to them. Fingers

Bohemian Visage: ran across the top of the sands. Lifting up once more.

Looking to the moons then over her shoulder to him. A sheen clung to her

flesh from the previous dance. Accenting her muscle tone, and highlighted the

romantic appeal of

Bohemian Visage: feminine curves. She was not like most, she was not built

with mass amounts of curves and she was as tall as many men. Stretching out

like a feline first. She did not dare dance again without care to her

muscles. Injury would mean

Saif of Kashani: Do you need water to continue girl, or shall I have them

play? *He watched her, speaking to her for the first time in this place,

before this he had let their animal natures speak. There no words were

needed, or wanted, but in this

Saif of Kashani: he broke the scarid silence, to be sure he would get the

best from her as she danced for him. His right hand took up the thick turian

wine, drinking it, if you could call it that. While he awaited her answer.*

Bohemian Visage: the death of her spirit. Lily was a wild spirit, gypsy

blood coursed through her, barbarian heat, Gorean training, a conundrum

trapped. So the woman, under the moons, looked to the drumer, the muse of the

night. "If allowed Master,

Bohemian Visage: I would be greatful for water before I dance again for your

pleasure." The drawl of her words held a carnal cadence to it. Her heart

raced in her chest, her body ached, but not in fatigue or pain. It was

something she could not put

Saif of Kashani: *He motioned his hand toward the bowl of water and towel of

rence cloth, should she wish to dry herself to keep sand from getting in

places where it would rub her flesh raw.*

Bohemian Visage: a name to or even a description. She waited, her approach

to him was not yet in motion. She waited the response with a baited breath,

teeth on edge of her lip, maybe he would actual give her water from his hand,

Bohemian Visage: further iterating her place. Motioning her towards the

water, she moved to it. Several steps taken, then moved to all fours,

crawling to him first. Pressing her cheek to his boot in gratitude for

allowing water. Turning, lifting to

Bohemian Visage: her knees, the bowl was taken up between both hands and to

her lips it went. Drinking with a need, it would barely quench, thrist yes,

the slave belly that was always there, but lay dormiant until set to motion,

in her dance she

Bohemian Visage: could not be the wraith she presented to the world. It was

her ultimate weakness, it drew out the true kajira in her. Even in the task

of drinking water was done like poetry. Once it was finished, the rep cloth

was taken up to dry

Bohemian Visage: off her legs first. A touch to her feet, she was truly a

vain creature.-d

Saif of Kashani: :He smiled watching her, having let her take the first

drink to replenish what sweat took from her. Then he leaned closer to her,

his hand closing in her hair. Holding her still since she bounded away before

he could do this before.

Saif of Kashani: So holding her he gently tugged her head back by the hair,

inhaling the scent of her along her neck, his lips parting by instinct to

brush her skin before he leaned back once more. His hand releasing her, to

continue cleaning the

Saif of Kashani: sand away. He then took up a water skin, watching her,

wondeing if she would beg for more water. Or simply move back to the sands,

then his lips curled in a slow smile. Setting the skin to the side he drew a

bottle from his burnoose

Saif of Kashani: . Calling for two small glasses he poured the liquid into

each of the glasses then motioned to the girl.*d

Bohemian Visage: The moment his hand ensnared her hair she felt the

explosion of something deep with in her. Her body melted away all tension,

curling backwards. It was something more animalistic that spoke to her. There

was a hum that rippled

Bohemian Visage: once again, he was the musician and she the insturment. He

was the muse and she embodied it. This had to be what they meant, the

trainers, speaking of such desires. Perhaps one day Hagan would draw this

from her, to date only one

Bohemian Visage: other had found a pace that set her aflame, and one day

perhaps she would dance with fire as he promised. Lifting her eyes up to look

upon him, the glassy apperance gave away her very essence, exposing her and

leaving her raw. It

Bohemian Visage: was then that he leaned in, feeling his breath upon her

flesh, the touch of his lips there to the erratic pulse of erotic pace. A

needful sound rode the gale of her breath rushing past tongue and teeth.

Righting her head once more,

Bohemian Visage: watchful eyes followed the lines of him, all of them, to

the small cups he now gestured to. In truth she felt the need to be drowned

in water. Stretching out her hand she found the small glass and picked it up.

Looking to him once

Bohemian Visage: more, a cant of her head, she waited. The fragrance of the

drink assalted her senses and now she craved it. A hidden lush.-d

Saif of Kashani: *He took his shot of the drink, downing it quickly, then

his eyes locked on hers.* Open your mouth. *He took the other glass up taking

the drink in his hand he tilted it against his lips. Letting it flow into his

mouth, then he

Saif of Kashani: leaned forward. As she was kajira he knew she would do as

he said, his hand once more found her hand, holding her by it as his lips

found hers. Kissing her roughly, his lips parting then to let the sweet

liquar flow over his lips

Saif of Kashani: and into her waiting mouth. Once done he let them linger

there, enjoying the taste of her lips.*

Saif of Kashani: d

Bohemian Visage: With his hand in her hair once more, her lips were as he

commanded them, open, yet they were not what some would call yeilding, that

came to a hault the moment she felt the warmth of anothers upon them.

Reaching out to touch his

Bohemian Visage: chest, it was a habit she was unable to break, to feel the

beating heart of another when they were so near. Soon the brusing kiss

brought forth a thick sound of pleasure then the warmth of the liquor filled

her mouth. She swallowed

Bohemian Visage: without question. The flutter of her eyes echoed the rapid

race of her heart. Fingers curled into his tunic. Rising up in her kneel to

further offer herself to him. The sound of the music in the distance was

pulling her, a need to

Bohemian Visage: free what was so trapped and concealed inside of her.

Pressing her lips up against his in return. Breathing in the scent of him,

the liquor, of the air that stirred around them. The Lily was more than

anyone could have guessed thus

Bohemian Visage: far. And if he had commanded her before the dance, doubtful

she would have complied without questioning, she was defiant by nature, it

was what amused the Slavers that hid her orgin of blood, and passed her off

as a bred slave.-d

A simple dance.... Ignite the desires of a man...

Disparate Voices: her, or maybe they could even concoct a dance together.

The only thing Master's loved more than watching a slave dance, was watching

two slaves dance together. -d-

Agrippa Pontus: ""Well, I think we have time for one dance don't we

Elizabeth.?" He said smiling and looking to Elizabeth as if it might actually

ask her whether or not they had time for such things. Her answer did not

matter, she was only a slave

Agrippa Pontus: but he enjoyed including her in the little trivial moments

of their lives together. Of course, Lily was not exactly a trivial moment.

It's possible, sometimes, that a man and even his slave, might become smitten

with a slave girl

Agrippa Pontus: even after a short encounter. It was possible too, that a

girl like Lily had a certain charm and lure that kept men like Agrippa coming

back for more. It was possible, of course that Lily, being only a slave, did

not even know she

Agrippa Pontus: had the sort of erotic appeal that naturally attracted

Agrippa. Agrippa was feeling relaxed, and even alive tonight. He kissed

Elizabeth's shoulder and then took the position of a man who is eager for

something. He reached up with

Agrippa Pontus: his right hand and pulled Elizabeth over pushing her face

down into his lap and making her turned over on her back so he could stroke

her hair while she lay her head across his thigh. He licked his lips as he

looked at Lily. "Dance,

Agrippa Pontus: dance for me just something simple, a little dance." His

interest in seeing her dance almost sounds as if he was asking her. --

Bohemian Visage: To her a dance was never something simple. Looking over her

shoulder to her favored drummer and gave him a wink. There was a returned nod

and looked back to the duo. She leaned back, slowly, and without pushing up,

she just slowly

Bohemian Visage: started to rise. Her body twisted up like a serpent being

lured out of the basket with the sounds of the flute... the drums were soft

at first. Soon enough she would catch eyes, but for now she would be selfish

and dance to what she

Bohemian Visage: felt. Arms rose above her head and twisted... then when the

tips of her toes were reached she spun and with that elongated extension of

her legs would take a few steps forward, each time the back leg came to press

tightly to the

Bohemian Visage: throb that rested between them. A clench of her marked ass

and the bow of her back. Like a teather that pulled her into place. Just a

few steps away. Right hand would slowly unwind from the left, fingers curled

in, palm flexed and

Bohemian Visage: then the slow roll of her hand. Action looked like cupping

but when the progression moved with fluid ease it floated down her body until

it was extended to its natural place and then at her delicate wrist twisted.

Soon there was the

Bohemian Visage: heated chrun of her hips, still heels never touched down. A

roll of her shoulder and left arm began the mirrored effect of the right. The

drums picked up and her head fell back, slowly she rolled back, following the

pulse... being

Bohemian Visage: dangled in air, suspended there, whole of her torso moving.

Then there was the lewd sound of a whip and she snapped up once again with

her head snapping and tipping down. Right hand found the knot in a raw

fashion it was jerked off

Bohemian Visage: and pulled above her head, snapping it in the air...

showing of his marks on her felsh, glancing over her shoulder, with the

pleading... ravish me... etched so clearly. The slik held up and then turning

to face him fingers released

Agrippa Pontus: while she danced, Agrippa did not once but for a slave to

bring him a drink. His right hand kept curling around the shell of

Elizabeth's ear, then rolled down her neck and over her shoulder

Bohemian Visage: and they would fall. Her hair looked wild around her now

dragging her fingers that due to the dampess upon them held her hair running

them over her quivering lips. Other hand brushed up along the outline of hip

and over her belly

Agrippa Pontus: his left hand came around and traced to Elizabeth lips.

Teasing her lower lip, dipping inside her succulent mouth. And all the while,

his eyes remained glued to the delicious body of the dancing girl. She was

exquisitely hipped,

Agrippa Pontus: her long legs such a magnificent feast for the eyes. --

Bohemian Visage: then edging along her breast, and collar that brought a

rolling curling of her tongue over her lips soon to capture her hair, both

hands tangled with in it. Legs crossed once again and drew her close to him,

holding her hair aloft.

Disparate Voices: The question was perhaps rhetorical, but she gave a soft,

'yes, my Master' anyway. When he kissed her sounder he probably got a faint

tasts of the powder; sweet like cotton candy. It was meant to powder ones

cleanly shaven mound,

Bohemian Visage: Deep breaths were taken in.. Suddenly another sound of whip

and she was drawn rigid... thighs were getting wet now. This was a sick

suicide for the obscure slave. She could feel her self slipping away, into

the void that was her

Disparate Voices: and pussy, but she like the way it shimmered when the

light caught it at just the right angle. Elizabeth loved girlie things,

perfumes, powders, cosmetics, ribbons, silks, sandals, bubble baths, and

fresh flowers. There was no

Bohemian Visage: true submission and calling. The more erotic the drums the

more her body was driven to be humliated and exposed to all that might have

happened to see her dance. Then without warning, like the shattering of glass

she crumbled...

Bohemian Visage: no warning, falling beautifully to her knees back flush to

the ground, she was laid flat and a piercing moan of release passed through

her lips arms above her head... then just as quick her body arched... being

pulled to another

Disparate Voices: doubt she had a touch of a little girl facade, but that

had been one of the things that first attracted Agrippa to her. Over the

course of time he would learn what made her tick, and how to flip those

switches to make her behave

Bohemian Visage: lane she resited when trying to draw back flush to the

ground. To the shadows that hide her, to the mats that kept her simple...

again another puncture of the drums and body was bowed deeper until the backs

of her fingers were drug

Agrippa Pontus: Something unique, something impactful and amazing about a

slave whose dancing. He had seen Lily naked before, he knew the way her skin

felt under his hand. And yet when she stripped herself during the dance she

seemed like an entire

Bohemian Visage: over the ground, her flowers falling from her hair, the

crown of her head touching the ground, her full nudity on display, lewdly her

arousal was growing hotter by the moment. It was a firey blaze that tore

through her. A piercing

Agrippa Pontus: entirely different person. Her body glowed, her thighs were

wet betraying her arousal. Her arousal seemed contagious throughout the room

and Agrippa was jealous of the men who were staring at her. He shared the

same feelings with

Agrippa Pontus: many of the other men in the room. None of them home to her,

but they all felt possessive of her, watching her, watching her for

themselves. --

Bohemian Visage: sound that in her inner ear did not sound like her at all.

She was crying out for release, for mercy, to be possessed, taken, whipped,

anything to end the angoy that was so blissful. Yet she refused to cry,

refused to break. Rising

Bohemian Visage: up to her knees in a heady manner, the panting shifted her

modest bust, a wild untamed looked blazed through her dialted eyes. Lips

trembled and her heart only quickened... There upon her knees, ripe for the

taking, She locked her

Disparate Voices: like a seasoned whore. Drawing her down onto her back, her

head came to rest upon his lap, midnight tendrils splaying over the tops of

his thighs like a silken blanket. She could feel the throbbing burn of her

brand. Delicaete hands

Bohemian Visage: arms above her head with the widing of her silks that were

drawn up from the ground, in a vain attempt to give peace to her body her

legs became paraellel to her shoulders, and she pressed until inner thigh and

cunt were against

Agrippa Pontus: There's just something about a girl who is dancing. Even as

he watched her moving wildly like a gazelle, he fantasized of her walking to

him falling to her knees and taking his cock in her mouth. He could see her

on her knees, that

Agrippa Pontus: pretty head bobbing up and down as his cock throb in her

mouth. He could almost feel it. And yet there she was, remote, teasing.

Elizabeth could feel his tension in his hands which now crept down to her

breasts cupping them hard as

Bohemian Visage: the ground. She looked to Agrippa and her tart... eyes

begging to be released from the dance... so close to sobbing and utter words

she never dreamt of doing... ripping her arms from her silk... falling to one

hand and reached for

Agrippa Pontus: tightened in her hair. --

Bohemian Visage: him... for an anchor... for anything....Still caught in the

throws of the dance... it raped her... exposed her... stole any veil she had

to hide behind... Her hand stretched outward... then she withdrew it and

curled into her self.

Disparate Voices: came to rest upon the feminine curve of her bara as she

laid her amazing long legs one, atop the other with knees slightly bent, and

pointing in the direction of the succulent dancing lily. When he idly traced

the outline of

Bohemian Visage: Shaking with the sheen of dew upon her flesh... her marks

exposed... looking up to him again... desperate and lost. Teeth captured her

lip. Then falling forward into whiping position she cries out "Master!!!" It

did not last long

Bohemian Visage: and the sleen would crawl to him... having to find serenity

there at his feet... tears burned her eyes and she felt as if she betrayed

herself... but refused them to fall. But the edge of the glass was felt...

crumbling more... the

Disparate Voices: delectable tiers as he was transfixed upon lily as she

danced, the tip of her tongue snaked out to coil about his fingers, sucking

it into her mouth pretending it was his cock. It was only brief, and she let

his finger slip from her

Bohemian Visage: crack was more than a spidering trail along the fabric of

her being. Getting closer to his face. "Please master... end my torment... i

beg of you Master, if it will please you... to press upon me my full purpose

and slavery! Please

Bohemian Visage: master... ! " Looking to him again seeking his eyes, so

close to him... yet he seemed so far from her-d

Kettle slave exposes a soul....

Bohemian Visage: unique gaze back up to the man that held her over his lap. Lifting her hips up ever so slightly to bow her back, legs were still slightly bent at the knee with her height. 'Yes I was taught the basic dances, as any Gorean slut would

Agrippa Pontus: across from Hagan at one of the tables, shoving some broken shards across the floor trying to make room for himself. "Elizabeth grabs some furs and shake them out. Bring them over here. clean out a space for me here" he

Agrippa Pontus: sounded irritable. --

Bohemian Visage: be...Master." It was almost difficult for her to say it... with that sense of actually belonging to him, she was not there. But she never said she was any good. But she would not expose it.-d

Disparate Voices: Puppy sitting? What that what he felt as he was doing? Puppy sister?! "Yes, Master," she offered in a sulken tone. It never felled when more beautiful girls were about she would be downgrounded to pu

AlI That Is Man:
Sky blues locked onto the familar sight of a slave, one he owned. His first girl, caused a wicked smile to press across his face. He stared at her as she unfurled into a nadu nearby. He motioned to Agrippa and spoke. "Shes a shy

AlI That Is Man: one." He said, speaking of Scarlet. "He let eyes center on her heart shaped face and he spoke. "Tal Elsa, did Pumpkin let you know where I was." Ongoing gag because Pumpkin was mute. A slight chuckle at his joke made at the big mans

Disparate Voices: 'puppy status' With a sensual gait, and a lascivious rock of comely hips she abled about the the tavern that was in utter disarray, with a dip of bended knees hear, and a dipp of knees there she gathered as many furs as her arms

AlI That Is Man: expense. He slapped Lily's rump and pushed her out of his lap and onto his feet. "Dance for us, the most sensual you know." He said. He leaned back in his chair to watch. Agrippa did not seem to be enjoying himself very much and he

Image of Scarlet: : Her shy? Ok, perhaps a little, maybe she was just... reserved. A soft blush started to color her cheeks and a little smile formed upon lightly painted lips, her eyes remained focus upon the floor. Greeted, Four leaned forward,

Disparate Voices: could possibley carry. She then moved outside. making her way through the alley door to hand the furs, and rugs onto a line that crossed from building to building. Spying a stick she hefted it up, and began to beat them with a furry

AlI That Is Man: held the wine up to him. "Drink, maybe make your slut join her. They can do a dance together." He said, goblet lifted to his mouth and long draught taken. Reserved, yes that was the term he was looking for. She wasn't exactly shy,

Disparate Voices: as if trying to let out some pint up aggression. -d-

AlI That Is Man: well as she used to be.


Image of Scarlet: hands falling from the tops of parted thighs to touch the ground as she folded herself in half, head lowering. : Tal my Master, Master. He did indeed, Master. : An unseen smile touching her lips as she kept her head down. Then she

Bohemian Visage: Once she found herself on his feet there was a sound of being kicked in the gut or the loss of breath. Dance? Oh skies help her at this point. She might end up starving in more than one way this night if she did not perform. Looking

Image of Scarlet: was pushing herself up to all fours, that well curved arse lifting high within the air, the hem of her silks doing nothing to cover flesh, Four crept toward her Master's boots. :

Bohemian Visage: towards the other slave that walked in. Pushing the long length of hair from her face. Before pushing her self up and off of his feet. Looking towards the sands. Walking towards them stretching out her arms above her head and

Bohemian Visage: rolling her head side to side stretching out her neck. Then there was a deep stretch to losen her back and rise and fall of each foot to stretch out those long legs of hers. Dainty and very prima ballerina in body structure.

Bohemian Visage: Wetting her lips while walking around the outside of the sands. Lifting those dark fathomless eyes towards the men once again. Still not even a smile upon her lips. Looking to that slave pole. It was a daunting thing before her.-d

Agrippa Pontus: So Agrippa took the wine and did do a little drinking. His eyes were on the girl that was sent to the pole, but he could not help but be a little distracted by Elizabeth pounding on the furs he had sent for. He knew when she

Agrippa Pontus: got like that she might be this way all night and you had to do something about it like it her with a stick or chain her to a wall. "Elizabeth stopped that and get over here. They those furs down here where I can have the

Agrippa Pontus: space to stretch out a little with you next to me, and be a good girl" by the tone of his voice she could tell over the insistent pounding of her anger on the defenseless furs, that she was risking giving up that space on the floor

Agrippa Pontus: next to him if she didn't pay him a little better attention. He gave her one last high arching look and then turned to leer at hagans girls who seemed eager to please a man and his prick.--

AlI That Is Man:
Before she had even had made her way all the way to him, his hand was down and he snatched Elsa up by the hair. He jerked her over to rest against his thigh and motioned to the girl he had just purchased recently. "Watch." He told

Agrippa Pontus: Stop* lay those furs, etc*

Disparate Voices: No sooner than she hear her Master's words, she flung the tick to the side, letting it thrumb against the wall before clattering to the ground. She drew a deep breath, and remember that she had promised hereself what she'd do. Draw

AlI That Is Man: her and turned all attention to the gypsy girl. He watched her silently, noting how she prepped for the dance. His eyes moved up and down her tall lithe frame, taking in every single hort of her body and what she was doing with it.

AlI That Is Man: He knew she was preparing mentally for the task at hand and was going to give them a show. One hand in her hair, the other on his wine he leaned back to enjoy the show. Occasionally he would lift said wine goblet and consume just a

AlI That Is Man: small bit before setting the goblet back down on the table.


Disparate Voices: down the now clean furs, she laided them across the length of her arm, amd sauntered back to where her Master was sitting. From beneath a veil of thick dusky lashes she peered to him as if the Priest Kings themselves had made her'

Image of Scarlet: : About to kneel beside him, she felt the familiar hold within her hair, a small cringe as she was jarked to his side, her cheek pressed against his thigh. Four half knelt, half sat upon the floor beside him, one hand upon the floor

Image of Scarlet: to balance her, the other found it's way to The Slaver's ankle, gently curling her fingers as best she could about it. Those blue gray eyes drifted across the room to the slave preparing herself at the slave pole. A dance! Four

Disparate Voices: for him, him for her. Descending to her knees she smoothed the furs out before him, and them proceeded to curl her amazingly long body next to his. A delicate hand dropping to the top of his thigh brazenly, the tips of her fingers

Image of Scarlet: spent a few ahns each morning training and was eager to watch the girl perform for the small crowd. :

Disparate Voices: drawing intricate little patters over his flesh as she peered brazenly across to the others. -d-

Bohemian Visage: Fingers push through her hair, slipping to her knees before the sands, leaning forward and pressed her brow to the edge of the stone work just before the sands. A moment of reprieve before she would have to perform. No slave went

Bohemian Visage: into a dance without some sort of insperations. Thus the fraude of a bred slave would try and drudge something up from the colorful soul that she harbored. Hair was released to tumble in that wheat shoot carmel with the dappling

Bohemian Visage: kiss of red, rare as the color was (so she was told) she had a touch of it. A romanticized amount, it was not fire like some wished on their chain. It only stood out against her freckled tawny flesh. Lifting her head up, just a turn

Bohemian Visage: up, still her body had not rising from the floor, her knees only further parted to let her slender torso fall between those taunt thighs. Fingers curled along the edge, she looked to the two sets there. Master's with their favored

Bohemian Visage: pets. Her eyes for the first time, showed a small glint of fire and spirit inside of her. Pushing one hand forward feeling the grains of sand between her fingers, it was a thrilling responce. Almost arousing, well that is a lie. It

Bohemian Visage: was a full body arousal. Inside and out. Stretching out fully reaching towards that pole. The bane of her existance. She would dance to what she felt inside. Moving her body in one fluid motion, no stop, no hault when her

Bohemian Visage: oposing knee came forward and into the sands it went. And repeat. Pulling herself closer to the pole. It held her attentions, her fears, her whispered dreams and desires there before her. Moving to the pole, she was laying on her

Bohemian Visage: belly by now. Letting her legs extend behind her. Hands on either side of it. Looking up the full length, before leaning towards it, eyes fall closed slowly, lips part in a sensual pout of burning need. To place a kiss to the base

Bohemian Visage: of it. Hands were depressed into the sands, shifting it under the silent strength, soon hips lifted, causing the slip of silk to wash over the swell of her rear, exposing the felsh slowly. It was like a rush of water that made her

Bohemian Visage: tremble upon her belly. Like a puppet being pulled by strings her legs drew under her, drawing her closer to the pole. A single hand smoothing up along it, as if it were the leg of a man and she the lowly whimper slave desperate for

Bohemian Visage: attentions. Her face spoke of it. That inner need that was warmning her belly and made her thighs quiver. A bit of an actress she was. Soon both hands were moving up the pole, walking her body closer to the pole, soon the whole of

Bohemian Visage: her midsection was tightly pressed against it. The faint murmmers of a moan caressed her lips. Her head draws back, and in a fluid motion the tall gyspy was on her feet. It was then she looked to those that were in the audience. Her

Bohemian Visage: right knee brushed the pole, feeling the material caress her sensitive inner thigh. Leaning back then her knee would soon be used to hold her hips to the pole, further still she arched back one arm falls free, before swinging

Bohemian Visage: herself around and pressed back to the pole with a snap of her body. Releasing the pole from her leg, turning so her back was to it, her heart was pounding, left hand rises above her head, holding the pole in a loving manner, her

Bohemian Visage: right hand beside her, the sultry expression on her face as she was lost in a euphoric moment. Slipping down the pole, sure some might bump and grind and fuck themselves silly, she did not. No it was more of a seductive act, a

Bohemian Visage: sensual coo, that temptation curl of a finger... the begging of use in her body but giving no ounce of release to herself... pushing it to the limit. Enough to bring tears to her eyes. Tongue caresses center lip and slipping down

Bohemian Visage: to her knees once again. Left hand seized her hair and the pole, tethering her self there to it. Right hand comes to caress over knee and thigh, drawing up her silk, in defiance her body arches towards the men, straining the silk as

Bohemian Visage: it was clawed in her right hand and pulled on. Knees dangerously parted, feeling that pain ripple she cries out. Mercy? Perhaps the leave to end the humliation of exposing her body in such ways before men. (and no need to be silent

Bohemian Visage: out there lurkers!!!!!!)