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From: "empath :{)" <empath69@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Reprisal" [Dancer] (M+F magic viol rom humor series)
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 03:10:02 -0500
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Warnings/Disclaimers: See attachment - Dancer does her own just fine.:)

Editor's notes:  Here ya go; I got a buncha fanmail asking for more on the 
'Errant Night' theme.  I liked it enough to cajole her into writing more - 
in addition to 'Reprisal' here, I already have two more 'story-lets' or 
chapters that will get posted soon, and Dancer is still working on more.

Thanks for the kudos already, folks - both on her behalf (she really LOVES 
praise:) and from me (it means I'm not the only one who liked the stories:).

As always, you can reach Dancer through the email I'm posting these stories 
with.

Empath (Dancer's husband/editor)

_________________________________________________________________
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp.


<1st attachment, "Reprisal.txt" begin>

{ASSM} "Reprisal" {Dancer} (M+F magic viol rom humor series)


****************************************************************
******************Standard Disclaimers Apply!*******************

                      Do Not Read This If:

                 A) You Are Under The Age Of 18

                             And/Or

B) It Is Illegal To Have Explicit Sexual Material Where You Live

****************************************************************
****************************************************************

This is the third chapter in a fantasy story I've been plugging
away at for six months or so. This kind of story I love to read
(like Anthony Prior-Brown's 'Wulf' saga) but have some trouble
writing out all the details to satisfy you readers. Empath
enjoys them, which counts the most because I began writing
erotica for his eyes only. I'm still not hooked up to the 'Net
yet, but you can send your emails of praise/criticism/whatever
to Empath's. The first two chapters are "Errant Night"(1) and
"Safe Conduct"(2). Laterations!!

{Editor's Update: My email to be contacted at is
<empath69@hotmail.com>, and it's not going to be very much
longer before Dancer and I are together again - for good.  Then
she'll be able to share my Internet access; she can see all the
fan mail you send her for herself! :D }


Baldohr Within - Reprisal
(M+F, magic, oral, anal, viol, interr, giant, rom, humor)

Dancer 2001 (c)


Gerta, the Dragon Queen, slumbered restlessly in her archipelago
queendom to the south of Baldohr in the warm, tranquil ocean of
Edares. The lustra visions that granted her absolute power over
the dragon and wyvern races and gave her insight to the future
began haunting her sleep a fortnight early. Images of a very
young Druid from Gerta's past morphed into bloody snatches of
thought of the same Druid, a bit older now and seasoned from
battle, disemboweled by an onyx-colored talon.

She awoke with her calicoed scales standing on end and her twin
hearts racing in panic. Her ruby eyes stared at the deadly
talons honed to razor sharpness dug into the feathered nest she
made her bed. They were a dulled ebon hue but, when the moment
called for, could be buffed and polished with an animal hide to
brightness, to the same onyx from her vision. It was no mistake.
When she accepted the crown as Queen of her peoples, the
monarchal ritual bade that her normally opaque claws be
blackened with a Druid's fire spell, an assurance that Gerta
would never use them for evil purposes.

Kirsten, the priestess who saved her life years ago, would die
at her hand. The now alert Dragon Queen cudgeled her brain to
understand her vision, to find the whys and wherefores and, once
she knew the answers, she would know how to prevent the
occurrence from happening. Something niggled at the fringes of
her memory; something vital to her quest but it hung back in the
shadows, as if unwilling to show itself. Gerta huffed out
through her nostrils and waddled from her nest in an undignified
manner befitting her station toward a bespelled, crystal case.
Inside were the tools she needed to clear her mind and discover
the hidden answer buried in her dreams - the twelve keys in
which were imbedded the souls and keen intellects of her
predecessors.

Tapping out a mathematical rhythm against the crystal's top face
with one foreclaw, her highness unlocked the case and removed
the keys cautiously. The looking glass on the wall directly
behind and above the case mirrored Gerta's beautiful bronze-,
gold- and auburn-scaled snout briefly as she fiddled with the
keys in her paws. Her image wavered, blurred entirely before
changing into Rapella the Benevolent, the fourth Dragon Queen
and centuries gone from her queendom. Rapella's sky blue scales
shone as bright as they did when she lived and her green eyes
glittered with unknown humor. "The revelations connected with
the crown disturb you, Gerta," Rapella purred soothingly.

"Yes, your majesty," the living queen replied, tipping her head
to one side. "I see the death of my savior at my own hands and I
know not the reason why."

"Child, unlike the others whose keys you hold, I will be
truthful and to the point. A young, upstart goddess called Yaffa
fancies herself in love with a mortal male, the Berserker king
of the Tenth Clan. Fortunately, the Jaegreot is already rump
over tail in love with Kirsten the Druidic priestess. Three
moonrises ago, Kirsten fought with Yaffa and buried the goddess
in a never-ending pit. Thusly, Yaffa is bent upon avenging
herself by murdering the one who denied her the chance to
be...intimate with the Jaegreot. She has obtained through much
bloodshed a tainted weapon to lure the Berserker king out into
the open and Kirsten along with him."

Gerta nodded at the explanation, then asked, "And how do I fit
in this goddess' scheming? She cannot call me, as only a select
few have the ability."

Rapella agreed and bowed her shimmering snout in praise of
Gerta's deduction. "The ebbs in this future are already in
motion and impossible to stop should you try to do so. I
understand Kirsten's power is great for one so young and she has
been given the spell to call for you...which she will, in two
days hence." Gerta opened her muzzle to speak but snapped it
shut at Rapella's quelling glance. "As I said, you cannot halt
this ripple forward in time. But I can clear the path of your
dreams and tell you how it will come about. Yaffa tracked her
quarry to the hamlet of Trefalgar in the eastern hills and will
attack when the sun is at its highest peak. Kirsten will call
and you will come posthaste and the goddess shall levy a
thundercloud to surround you in flight, to upset your sense of
balance. You shall plummet from the skies. This future is set,
unchangeable, but the method in which you break your fall is
not."

"What can I do, assuming Yaffa's thundercloud will be timed so I
am too near my friend to alter course?"

Emerald eyes silted and gleamed with cunning as Rapella informed
Gerta, "A pebble has been cast into the waters of life, rippling
outward to meet with the waves of discontent Yaffa created with
her own stone. Ripples you noticed, the reason you used the
keys, almost imperceptible except to another female. Have you
deduced what that insignificant pebble might be?"

The Dragon Queen looked inward at the hints and clues given to
her. The answer lay in being a female, she was sure of it. What
could a dragon female see in a human woman and identify with?
She rocked on her heels as she comprehended the pebble's
personification and responded, "A babe. Kirsten is with child."

"Precisely, dearheart," Rapella replied, baring her teeth in
semblance of a grin. "And to kill an innocent is the worse
imaginable evil which..."

"...I am spelled to not commit," Gerta finished the statement
and watched the reflection of the blue dragon fade into her own.


Trefalgar
=========

Kirsten adjusted the scabbard buckled over the shoulders of her
new robes, feeling like a gunfighter from the old west. She had
yet to master the technique of drawing both blades at once and
settled for pulling The Rapier first, fighting to gain distance
and then free Jasper. Wielding them both made it difficult to
cast spells since she needed at least one hand for that purpose.
She walked away from the armory and down the freshly paved
street toward the blacksmith's where Jaeg waited as the smithy
shoed the pair of horses he'd recently purchased. A few
townsfolk greeted her as she made her way through town, thanking
her again for ridding the vampyre that plagued Trefalgar days
ago. Kirsten waved their gratitude away distractedly. Her mind
was on the subtle changes in the abundant forest surrounding the
village, making her aware that something loomed on the horizon.
Something evil and directed solely at her.

Coldness crept up her spine and she turned around slowly, taking
in the town surrounding her. There was nothing, then searing
pain in her left shoulder. She clutched at the bloody wound and
tried to get a good grip on the metal quarrel shaft protruding
from her body but the torrent of crimson blood made it
impossible. The townspeople scattered, darted into nearby
buildings for safety and left Kirsten alone in the main square.
She quit trying to pull out the quarrel, instead jerked The
Rapier free of its scabbard and scrambled for some kind of
cover. Behind the corner of the general store was the best she
could manage for now. No more arrows or quarrels whizzed through
the air. Kirsten let her drawn blade seep its healing powers
into her shoulder. Soon, the bleeding eased off to a trickle and
she was able to yank the shaft out of her upper body. She gazed
at the metal rod with her mage sight before tossing it across
the alley opposite her position. It held nothing special to her
eyes.

With her eyes lightly closed, she focused on her hearing sense
and picked out a whisper of another crossbow bolt notched
against the bowstring. She silenced her breathing and waited for
the strike. When it didn't happen, Kirsten realized whoever shot
the first bolt couldn't get a decent aim with the quarry behind
a corner. That narrowed the assassin's location down. The person
was hiding in a southwesterly direction from her and she thought
up a sketchy map of the outlying area. The forest provided too
much cover and unless the hunter was in the higher bows of a
tree, it was near impossible to get off a clear shot. So, that
left the huge tree where she and Jaeg had first encountered the
nosferatu. It gave a plain view of the main path through the
center of town. Anyone walking along the street became an easy
target for a quarrel in the heart. "Here goes nothing," Kirsten
whispered to herself, then bolted out of the building's safety.

She magicked a reliable lightening bolt with her free, left hand
and directed it toward the tall birch, ducking for cover behind
an abandoned wagon. A cracking sound came to her ears along with
a male voice yelling, "Oh shiiiit!" Kirsten stayed behind the
wagon for an extra second that saved her life as she saw the
steel bolt penetrate completely through the two inch, dovetailed
corner where her face would have been if she'd moved. Her legs
shook as she gained her feet and dashed from one haven to
another, closing in on the fallen hunter.

Jaeg can tearing out of the blacksmith's, hell bent for leather,
calling out to his companion, "What in the blazes?"

"Not sure," she hollered back over a shoulder as she ran. "Got
tagged with a quarrel by somebody. I think I got him." Although
much quicker, Jaeg's long legs ate up the ground and he hit the
newly mended, stone wall before her, grabbing the top with both
hands and vaulting over. Kirsten found notches in the mortar,
climbed up the physical barrier and dropped onto her feet on the
other side. By the time she reached the Berserker, he had the
would-be killer by the front of his padded armor and shook the
man like a rag doll. "Hey, back off a little," she told Jaeg.
"We need to find out who he and what his mission is before you
grind his bones to mush."

Jaeg complied with her, letting the stranger fall hard onto the
dirt. The man sucked in oxygen and choked out, "Accident! A
mistake, I swear!"

Kirsten sighed, then poked the sharp tip of her Rapier under the
flesh of his chin. "You know, I might believe that if you hadn't
readied a second bolt in the crossbow. Try again, and with the
truth this time, or tall, dark and handsome here's gonna
pulverize you into tiny bits."

"Handsome?" Jaeg asked, a prideful grin creasing his shaven
features.

"Actually, I meant D'Sheark'nmaur," she replied and wrinkled her
pert nose. "Talk, mister. My patience is very thin right now."

"All right," the assassin groaned softly. "I'll talk." He licked
his lips briefly and started to tell his tale. "I was hired by
Chancellor Jhadim to kill you and retrieve the opal eye of Endor
in order to stop the ascension of the blood daemon Razarath." At
the blank looks on their faces, he frowned. "My name is Wind
Kergan," he stated and paused for the recognition due unto him.

"Nope," Kirsten said and twitched her lips. "Doesn't ring a
bell. Got any other names you go by, Wind?"

Wind flipped his arms away from his body with a deep sigh.
"Toto, I don't think we're in 'Dark Realms' anymore." The sword
at his throat fell away. He glanced up at the woman wielding it
and noticed the slackness of her open mouth. "What?"

"Jesus H. Christ on a Popsicle stick," she muttered in a low
voice and rubbed the furrow of her brow in disbelief. "I guess
I'm not the only one stuck in a role-playing game. Kirsten Foxx,
nice to meet you." She sheathed the Rapier at her left hip and
offered the same hand to Wind, which he accepted and pulled
himself back to his feet.

"Mark Lassaso," he replied, shaking hands. "Wind Kergan is my
character in the game I thought I was playing. I feel really
sorry about shooting you, Kirsten, truly." He touched the
bloodstained fabric of her shoulder gently but quickly withdrew
his fingers at the harsh growl from the giant next to her.

She rolled her eyes at the protective sound and said, "Jaeg,
chill."

He ignored her, glaring at Mark as he threatened, "Kirsten is my
woman. Find your own."

"Uaaahhg," she grumbled when Jaeg wrapped a muscled arm around
her waist but went willingly into his embrace. "Berserkers. They
just don't play well with human men," she confided to Mark with
mock anger, snuggling her cheek against Jaeg's upper abdomen. "I
suppose we should head for the Grove and figure out why the hell
you're inside the wrong game."


Barren Lands
============

The goddess Yaffa studied her minion as another buffed the
delicate nails of her right hand. This underground dweller
groveled at her sandalled feet, "Yes, my mistress. The blade has
been taken from the holy resting place as you instructed." He
jerked a clawed paw at another of his kind and this one held out
a linen-wrapped parcel to his leader with eyes averted. The
moleman took the article from his lackey and hastily lifted it
upward to Yaffa.

"You," she ordered the nearest troll. "Take the weapon and
unwrap the cloth binding it. I wish to gaze upon my latest
trinket." The sallow-skinned troll tore the gift from the
moleman's grasp. He made quick work of the strong linen and
revealed a filthy, burned broad sword to the goddess' sight. She
growled angrily, "It could not have been properly cleaned, you
worthless ratkin!?" A swift flick of her wrist commanded that
the weapon be taken away and polished, then she narrowed her
blue eyes at the quivering figure at her feet. "Guards, take
this...insolent...parasite and give it to my kittens as a treat.
They have gone too long without a fresh kill."

The moleman yelped in a shrieking tone as two, armed trolls
dragged him from the throne, "Mistress, I beg of you! Show me
mercy! Mercy!!"

"French for thank you," Yaffa replied with an evil smile. She
ignored the creature's pleas and returned her attention to the
slender, elfin captive who resumed his manicure. She lifted her
left index finger and stroked the digit along the smoothness of
his jawline. "You are very pretty, elfin. Almost too pretty for
a male," she crooned and shifted her naked ass restlessly
against the velvet cushions padding her jeweled throne. The elf
felt his blood run cold at the lusty tone of the goddess' voice.
"Aren't you going to thank your mistress for complimenting you?"

He swallowed audibly, then answered, "Thank you, mistress."

"You are very welcome," Yaffa replied, catching his pointy chin
in a pinch. "Now, be an obedient slave and kneel before me." He
whimpered. "Ah, ah, no arguing. I'm in the mood for a little fun
and games now that I hold Hellraiser and you are the perfect
choice for what I have in mind." He obeyed her command and knelt
at her edge of her dais with his back to her, head resting
against the rough, concrete flooring and hands cupping his
buttocks. He held the taut globes as far apart at possible,
baring the tight, pink entrance to his rectum. She stretched out
a toe and toyed with the snug muscle while she yanked a wooden
staff from the leather holder strapped to the rear of her
throne. It was three feet in length and tipped on both ends with
forged iron molded to resemble the arrow-shaped head of a viper
snake.

She rubbed one blunt tip along the puckered hole, easing it
beyond the opening with exaggerated slowness. As she prodded the
shortened staff further up his colon, he felt her lightly kick
his tensed thighs. He scooted forward at this urging and bit the
inside of his cheek when his flesh of his face was gouged bloody
as he moved ahead. Yaffa kept on jabbing the rod in his asshole
until he was in the middle of the chamber. She called out to
three of her loyal, troll guards and commanded for one to lie
underneath her, another to kneel at her mouth and the last to
ready his spiked flogger. "You and you, remove your cocks from
your trews," she stated fiercely. They complied with her demand.
One quickly got onto his back and held his stiff prick straight
as Yaffa squatted on her hands and knees. The troll dick slid
deeply in her wet cunt when she sat down upon the thick, erect
flesh. She reached behind her with her right hand, found the
other end of the rod and shoved the metal tip passed her
sphincter.

The second troll stood in front of his mistress' open mouth and
she gobbled the knobby cock hungrily to the root. She groaned
around the member down her throat, rocking herself whorishly
against the twin impalements buried deep in her love holes. Her
lusty movements jerked and twitched the opposite end of the
staff painfully in the elfin man's rectal cavity. He bore the
hurt in silence but couldn't help squirming as the third troll
struck his naked body repeatedly with the wicked flogger. Blood
flowed heavily from several wounds. Yaffa rode the shaft in her
pussy with total abandonment and wriggled her creamy rear along
the staff, never halting her enjoyment even when a stray stroke
of the flogger grazed her ass. This made her more excited and
she sucked the prick between her lips feverishly, fondling the
bloated ballsack with a strong grip. As the troll's load erupted
down her throat, she spit his dick out and knocked him aside.
"More, I want more cock," she purred, cum dribbling from the
corners of her mouth.

Quick to obey, the spent troll was replaced by a different one
and she latched her thirsty orifice onto the new hard-on
eagerly. The troll inside her quim shot his wad after the first
change. He was shoved away by a clansman who immediately rammed
his prick fully between her slick labia and started groping the
pert breasts hanging above his face. The ragged nails at the
tips of his fingers welted the milky orbs as he harshly kneaded
them, all the while bucking his pelvis and slamming his rigidity
into her clinging cunt. In quick succession, the slutty deity
rode her followers to orgasm, then demanded fresh bodies to fill
the voids after they ejaculated. Every troll on duty in the
throne room was given an opportunity to fuck his mistress' face
and pussy at least once. The whipping continued. Each slap of
the toothed weapon against the weak, bruised torso and buttocks
of the elfin male spilled more blood upon the floor and
persisted even after the captive lost consciousness.

The orgy lasted throughout the afternoon and well beyond sunset.
Her guards were happily tired from servicing their mistress and
lay about the palatial chamber snoring as they slept. Yaffa felt
well pleasured and almost satiated by the thorough fucking and
sucking of massive troll cocks. She used her lower muscles to
expel the phallus from her nether hole and crawled cat-like to
the elfin, circling his prone body. She made one circuit,
returned to where she started and leaned forward, the blunted
staff sliding effortlessly down her gullet. Her lips pursed
together and she jerked her head back suddenly, which yanked the
opposite end free of the elfin sphincter with a resounding pop.
She grabbed the staff and tossed aside. Then, her semen-coated
tongue snaked out toward the pink opening and she licked a long
stroke up between his cheeks, trailing her lingual muscle along
the indentation of his spine. His clotted, maroon blood tasted
divine as she lapped at the myriad of scratches and slashes
criss-crossing his back.

"Wake up, pretty one," Yaffa cooed and stuck the tip of her
tongue inside the canal of his pointed ear. He groaned softly
and opened his left eye to a slit, peeking out of the corner at
his mistress. She caressed the strained tendons in his arms
lovingly and gently shifted his hands from his rear to rest
along the concrete near his shoulders.

"I am pleased with your compliance, elfin." She placed her
flushed face against his straight, sweaty, black hair and traced
the delicate curve of his ear with a forefinger. "Trolls have
their good points - strength, endurance and size, hmmm,
especially size - but they have a very disappointing flaw, you
know," she informed her captive, sighing. "Not a damn one of
them cares about the female he fucks. Usually, I don't care
about that when a thick, juicy knob is pounding in and out of my
pussy.

"But today, I feel neglected. I believe you are the one to make
me very happy." She pushed off his abused body in order to stand
and threaded both sets of fingers into the slick locks of his
hair. "Come along, slave, and service your mistress a second
time," she gleefully whispered as she pulled him upright.

He slowly stood up, stifling moans as the pain of his rape and
beating coursed over his lithe form. Yaffa cupped the battered,
right side of his face and chanted a minor healing spell. The
incantation cloaked his sore body in a warm glow and imbued his
flesh with its power. He sucked in a breath as the deep gashes
cut into his back knitted together and the ragged skin of his
cheek became smooth as glass. Once the spell finished, Yaffa
smiled leisurely and beckoned him to follow as she led her
prisoner into a small antechamber to the left of her throne. The
room was well-padded with lush carpeting over the hard flooring,
fat, colorful pillows of various shapes strewn around and heavy,
feather-encased, silk blankets heaped to either side of the
center.

Humming a nonsensical tune, the goddess gracefully reclined
against four bluish pillows and spread her creamy thighs wide
apart. With her used cunt exposed to the elfin's gaze, she
manipulated two fingers along her dripping slit, saying,
"Pleasure me, elfin. Use your tongue and lips to cleanse me free
of troll juice." He demurred by bowing his head and sank onto
his knees between her splayed legs. He slid his palms under her
soft buttocks as he stretched out the lanky height of his body
and gingerly lapped at the puffy folds of her swollen, outer
lips with the end of his tongue. "Ahhh..." she cried out in a
low tone and clutched her fists in the strands of his dark hair.


Trefalgar
=========

"And that's how I got inside the game," Mark explained, resting
his chiseled, dimpled chin against the pad of his hand. He and
Kirsten were at the Druid's Grove in town seated at a table in
the main hall. Jaeg found somewhere else to be which relieved
Mark greatly. The giant Berserker gave him the wiggins just by
being in close proximity and, if looks could kill, Mark would be
nailed to the nearest wall. He couldn't blame the man in all
honesty. Kirsten was too cute for school with her reddish hair
framing her peaches and cream complexion perfectly and the form-
fitting clothing she wore showing off the curves of her breasts
and hips. Oh yeah, I'd be wary of men around her, Mark thought
in his brain. He watched her sip from her goblet of water, a
hint of a smile upon her lips. "What's so funny?" he asked,
returning the smile.

She set the goblet down, toying with the rim as she replied,
"Wind Kergan. Why can't I think of cool names like that for my
characters? I get the first name but...you know."

"Well, Wind is supposed to be an assassin," he answered.
"Kirsten's pretty nice for a priest."

"Druid," she corrected. "Priests don't have the fighting skills.
We don't get to learn the really neat spells like genocide and
sphere of depletion but we can use nature. Very nice if you're
in the woods when some gang of uglies attacks." Her eyes lit up
as she talked enthusiastically about her class. Mark understood
a lot of what she said since 'Baldohr Within' and 'Dark Realms'
had similarities, except that 'Baldohr' was strictly a pencil,
paper and dice game while 'Realms' was based on computer code.

He interrupted her speech with a question. "Okay, since you
don't have assassins in this world, what class would I fall
into?"

"We do have assassins, but they're bad guys. You can't choose an
assassin as a character to play. I guess you'd be a thief,
maybe. I never took a thief to play because I want a character
that can fight when necessary." She got a faraway look in her
eyes. "Although I do have this really good ranger named Nadia.
Unfortunately, her wisdom is a three. She's an idiot."

"Is there any way to send me back to reality?"

"I haven't done much research," Kirsten sighed. "The shit hit
the fan right when I got here and basically, it's been a fight-
for-my-life situation." She rested her forehead in her hands and
wished that Mark wasn't so gorgeous. His wavy, brunet hair was
held back by a strip of rawhide across his brow and every once
in a while, a curl would fall over the leather band, making him
utterly adorable. He dressed in black and gray tunic, trousers
and armor that helped in blend into the shadows and accentuated
the sinewy muscles of his wiry body. She groaned when the image
of his worn, knee-high pirate boots popped into her mind. There
was something magnetic about a man in that type of riding boots
that got her so hot and weak-willed. He touched the back of her
right wrist and she jerked away as if scalded. "I-I better find
Jaeg," she mumbled before rushing outside.

She walked over to the closest tree and hugged the rough trunk,
using its stability as an anchor for her tumultuous emotions.
Her feelings for Jaeg were real. They'd slept together just
yesterday after destroying a vicious monster and she wondered if
the adrenalin rush of the battle threw the two of them into each
other's arms. Her previous encounters in the bedroom were all
with guys that she thought she loved or she wouldn't have had
sex with them. She tipped her face up and stared into the leafy
branches above. "Why am I so confused?" she whispered to the
tree. Kirsten searched the green canopy for the answer to her
query, her concentration wavering due to the sunny heat against
her spine. With a shake of her hair, she brushed the sensation
aside, attributing it to the noonday sun. Then it hit her. If
the sun was high in the sky, how was it able to shine upon her
back with such warmth through the thick cover of the trees? "It
can't," she answered her thoughts and grasped the hilt of the
short sword strapped against her shoulder blades.

Jasper sang as she drew the weapon from its sheathe and the aura
enveloping it glowed a hazy turquoise color, shifting amongst
the variations of blue and green. Her lips formed a quirky smile
as something in her mind nudged her to seek out the source of
her question. "Okay. I will," she said, then whipped around
right into the sculpted chest of Jaeg.

He caught her with his arms and held her in a light embrace.
"Any chance of you skewering what's-his-name with that?" he
asked his one night lover in a playful tone. The leather-bound
hilt of the sword branded her palm with a sudden spike of heat
and her eyes quickly sought the color of the aura. It transmuted
from the original turquoise to a vivid, golden hue.

"Stay put. I gotta find Mark," Kirsten informed him and ducked
under his arms to get away. As she jogged from him, he called
after her for an explanation. When she didn't reply, Jaeg huffed
and sat down with the tree trunk at his back, leaning against it
with a knee cocked. Upon entering the sanctuary once more, she
found Mark still seated where she'd left him moments before.
"Mark, I need to talk to you for a sec," she said and braced
herself for a feeling from the blade. Mark got no closer to her
position than a few steps when it happened. A searing bolt shot
up her arm. She peeked down at Jasper and went all giddy as the
golden aura changed to a maroon shade of red. Before he had an
opportunity to find out what she wanted, she bolted out of the
chamber without so much as a farewell. Jaeg started to stand at
her approach but was bowled over when she knocked him to the
grassy ground, straddling his waist. "He was maroon. You're
gold. I like gold. Gold is good," she said abruptly, then mashed
her lips against his and pulled back.

He crooked his right elbow and tucked the limb under his head.
"Well, it's very nice to know you associate me with that color,"
he murmured in a wry voice and wrapped his left hand around her
middle. "But, what does that have to do with anything?"

Kirsten sheathed Jasper behind her back again and rolled off him
onto her side, using part of his arm as a pillow for her head.
"If you understand the meaning of the colors, gold has
everything to do with it. Gold can mean goodness, benevolence or
purity, depending on the situation, and in this instance, it
means all three."

"So," Jaeg replied, dragging himself closer until they were
flush together from neck to navel. His fingers trailed down to
the slope of her bottom and he splayed the digits across the
rounded expanse of hidden padding. Her eyes fluttered shut at
his knowing caress and she inhaled a big breath, forcing her
breasts hard into the broad, male pectorals. "Kiss me." Her lips
parted as she shifted her face forward. They were velvet soft
against his firm ones and the couple kissed with open mouths for
several minutes before Jaeg broke away. He transferred his oral
attentions on the bared skin of her throat, working his way
downward to the indentation of her full bosom. He brushed
feather light pecks over the curved tops above the neckline of
her laced vestment until she squirmed restlessly in his arms.

She brought her right hand between their bodies and deftly
untied the knots binding her tunic together. The fabric
separated, offering the rounded globes for further inspection by
his mouth. He slipped his left hand inside the cloth and touched
the rigid nipple with his thumb as he withdrew the mound,
bending his pursed lips down for a taste. Kirsten sighed at the
sight of him suckling her breast and the sensations of his mouth
nursing the wrinkled halo while his heated tongue laving the
dusky tip. The throbbing in her loins made her realize how much
she wanted his thick cock buried inside her wetness, so she
tossed her right leg over his muscled thigh and rubbed her
crotch feverishly along his limb. "Oh Jaeg, please," she begged
with a sob and speared her fingers into the shagginess of his
dark hair, tugging him away from her breasts. "I need
you...now...deep inside me," she muttered, then nibbled the
fullness of his lower lip.

"Here in the open or a more private place?" he asked, levering
himself to a kneeling position. "There's a brook running through
this wood not too far from us. We could go there and bathe each
other..." His tone was a seductive, throaty purr as he let the
words trail off and a shiver of anticipation at seeing Kirsten's
auburn hair slicked back from her smiling face and droplets of
cool water coating her naked body.

She yelped, "Stop looking at me like that! I feel like a piece
of cheese on a mouse's dinner plate!"

Jaeg gave her a hand up and loosely retied her laces to cover
her voluptuous bosom for the time being. "I was thinking about
the water sluicing down your beautiful body and how very much
I'd enjoy licking the little streams as they ran down your
breasts and belly." He chuckled at her suddenly shy behavior as
she glanced away and hid her face with her long hair. She
retorted that he was just a dirty, old man and he shot back with
a big grin, "Is there any other kind?"

"We have -got- to do something about your teeth," Kirsten
grumbled. "They scare me by being all jagged and sharp, like
you're going to chow down on me."

"My teeth are this way as a sign of my manhood," Jaeg stated
gruffly. "It's done as part of a ritual when a boy kills his
first enemy."

"Oh. So...what's the rest of the ritual?"

"After the teeth are all filed to points, the boy is given his
first woman. My people strongly believe that a boy old enough to
fight and kill in battle is of an age to mate with a woman." He
reached out to her as he talked, pulled her hard against himself
and pressed his arousal into the softness of her abdomen. "The
quelling happened to me when I was ten summers. Goblins made an
attack on our corral of horses and I stabbed one with my dagger,
then proceeded to cut him into pieces because he touched my
pony."

"Remind me never to touch your horse, okay?" Kirsten said with a
shudder.

He kissed the crown of her hair. "Kirsten, you can touch
anything I own without fear. I'd only kill you if you betrayed
me by taking another man to our bed," he simply stated. The face
of the stranger who'd shot her this morning formed in his brain
and he gnashed his back teeth in jealousy.

"It's nice to know you care," she said and wrapped her arms
around his waist. "And since we're talking about it, let me tell
you. If I even get an inkling of you lusting for somebody else,
I'll chop off your arms and legs and dump a huge bucket of
leeches on your balls."

Jaeg caught her dainty chin with a knuckle and looked into her
upturned face, saying, "Damn, but you've got a murderous streak
in you. I'd kill you quick. Stab you through the heart, break
your neck, choke the life out of you, but...wow. Leeches. Very
cruel." He hooded his gaze. "I love you."

"Then let's do something about this shaft poking me in the
stomach," she said with a saucy grin upon her mouth, stroking
the heavy length with her body. He gave her a tap on the rear
and motioned for her to turn and walk deeper into the forest.
They held hands as they strolled together, their footsteps
soundless as they moved ahead over the dewy grass.


end

===========

{Editor's parting shot: Tease! ;)  But Dancer is just like
Kirsten on the subject of infidelity - she's stated that if I
ever cheat on her, she'll chop my.....HANDS of, so I'll be
helpless without her, and so she can still get some use out of
me. :D}


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