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
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