Agent in Distress Ch. 04

"Perhaps this will make the ointment more effective," answered Lamare, patiently. "Or perhaps I simply enjoy massaging your lovely lobes. As a female, you must learn to simply trust your masters, and not question what they do."

Lana bristled at his answer. "You are not my master! I will not simply---ohh!" she moaned suddenly, as her poor tended nipples were given a hard, long squeeze.

"Look at you," said Lamare, matter-of-factly. "You squirm and mewl about helplessly at my casual touch, I am the master of your body, am I not?"

"Go to hell," she gasped. Lana tried to silence her voice, to still her body, but his massage continued, and he seemed to be highly skilled, as if he'd done it many times before. Lana was sure the salve was well massaged into her flesh by now. "Lamare, I—I think th—that's enough," she croaked, her torso writhing against his hands.

"That's enough, Master," corrected Lamare, calmly, as if well used to teaching new slaves. Lana groaned, shaking her head, but he continued without letup, and she felt so hot down in her core that she feared he might decide to check her.

"That's enough, Master," choked Lana. She was grateful they were alone in the middle of the woods, so no one she cared about would see her shame herself.

"Good," purred Lamare, letting her top down. "Now beg me to apply the salve to your pussy."

"Oh god, I—I couldn't!" protested Lana. "Just let me down, I'll do it."

"No, you're simply going to have to suffer until you find the courage to beg for my help."

Lana groaned at his cruelty, but she couldn't bear to have him touch her down there, she'd have to endure. When it was apparent she wasn't going to beg, Lamare spoke, "You know what, little bird, I've changed my mind. I'd be happy to help you."

"W-what?" choked Lana, as she saw him dipping his finger to produce a healthy dab of ointment. "No, no, you cannot! I didn't ask!"

"You are too shy to ask," nodded Lamare. "Allow me," he added. Then he reached down under her skirt. "Lamare, no don't!" she cried as his hand approached her heated center.

"Oh god!" moaned the girl, arching her back as he smoothed the cream around her soaked crevice.

"You are soaking wet, little slave," observed Lamare. He chuckled when the girl whimpered in shame. "Let's make sure we get every little spot down there." He dipped his finger back in the salve, then reached under her skirt again.

"Oh gaa!" gasped Lana, lifting her ass off the saddle to try to escape the delving finger. Lamare with his long finger was reaching deep inside her, far deeper than she'd done herself, and her mouth gaped open as he spread the salve all around inside her. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she strained helplessly in the saddle, struggling to escape his finger and the powerful sensations. She feared she might orgasm, the ultimate humiliation, and she moaned when she felt her insides clench his finger as a spasm rippled through her. His finger began to slide out her now slick crevice, leaving a feeling of emptiness, but then suddenly it plunged deeply again. Lana cried out, her body stiffening as her insides clenched his finger eagerly. "Oh god, no," moaned Lana, as the orgasm began to bubble up inside her.

And just like that, he removed his finger, the girl's head collapsing back against his chest. The rising wave of pleasure was halted in its tracks to leave her overheated and aburn. "We can't have you cumming without permission, now can we?" said Lamare in explanation.

Lana lifted her head off his chest, her chest rising and falling heavily with her breathing. She could not believe this bastard had put his finger inside her, and to her horror, she had responded with a gush of pleasure. The cursed fruit had betrayed her, turned her into . . . she didn't want to even think about it.

"I dare say, I think you enjoyed that even more than I did," said the man.

"You'll pay for this," said Lana, panting, her whole body filled with tension, as she tried to keep her arousal at bay.

"I doubt that. But we've made good progress. You've began to embrace your body's arousal."

"I have not!" protested Lana. "The fruit -- it makes me respond in unnatural ways!"

Lamare chuckled. "On the contrary, it only enhances your natural tendencies. You've the makings of an excellent pleasure slave. I wish we had more time, I would teach you how to speak like a proper slave," he said, his tone critical. "I find your language offensive."

Lana made a derisive sound, "I find being in your presence offensive." Then she blanched, for his comment reminded her how unbecoming an Arbiter she'd been acting. Cursing, name calling - these things were forbidden in the Institute. Hundreds of years of experience had taught the Arbiters that a pure mind and kind spirit were the best path to greatness. Lana had always struggled with these teachings, and in fact, one instructor's attempts to discipline her had lead to her biggest mistake in the Institute, and the loss of her virginity, she reminded herself. What would her instructors say now, seeing her behavior? But her cloistered instructors weren't here, on this wretched planet, she thought.

Lana wanted to promise herself she would use more respectful language and attitude, and yet, the man she rode with drove her mad with his barbaric outlook on women. And with his hands, she thought, shuddering slightly. The horse was moving again, goaded by some unseen command by Lamare no doubt, and Lana waited impatiently for the salve to take effect. After a few minutes, the burning need began to subside, ever so slowly, and she moved her torso away from Lamare's chest, embarrassed at herself. Her breasts still felt overly sensitive and each movement of the horse brought reminder of her still heightened arousal. But eventually, the salve began to work, and the tension in her body began to subside.

"Is it working?" asked Lamare, after some time had passed.

Lana's labored breathing had slowed a bit as she struggled to catch her breath. "Yes," she murmured, "it's working."

Suddenly, the rounded a bend in the trail, and the forest opened up, to signs of civilization. The relief flowed over Lana. They must be close to the rendezvous. Then suddenly she felt a dark fear creep in her belly. What if Warrick wasn't there to meet them? What if the bastard Lamare had arranged a trap for him? Lana shuddered, reaching out to try to peer into Lamare's mind, but a sharp pain made her immediately stop trying. She couldn't bear to continue on the journey with Lamare, nor could she bear the thought of the handsome warrior gone missing.

In a few minutes, they passed the edge of the forest, the fading sun turning the grassy field a lovely burnt orange. Lamare's hands hadn't touched her again, and Lana breathed a heavy sigh, though he'd left her body burning and damp with desire. Her heartbeat and her breathing slowly returned to normal, but unfortunately the flames inside her subsided only slightly. Nevertheless, her unquenched desire was far preferable to Lamare's touches, she told herself.

Through the trees, they could see a tall open gate made of heavy oak timber, bonded together by bands of steel. The guards on the wall were lighting the torches as the sun went down. The walled town was small, but as they neared the gate, they could see a bustling jumble of densely packed streets. The soldiers who manned the gate gazed down at Lana with bored looks as they waved them through. People walked past the two on horseback, carrying bundles of food, live animals, and various goods. The town was also full of soldiers, and Lana realized that Lamare wore the same uniform, so they mostly ignored him. She however was a subject of interest, and she asked Lamare why they were all staring at her.

"A small town like this would rarely see a beauty of your pedigree," he responded. "And your Calambrian features are rare as well."

Lana frowned. "Coming from you, I'm not sure how to take that . . ." She didn't finish, for Lamare had directed the horse off the main street into a narrow side street, just wide enough for two riders to pass without touching. He stopped the horse, unwound the chain from the pommel to free her wrists, and then climbed down. Shrugging off his reaching arms, Lana deftly lifted her leg over and slid off the animal, landing on her feet. She glanced around, realizing her maneuver didn't look like that of a slave girl. But she'd do anything to keep his hands off her body, and fortunately no one had seen it. Giving her a scornful look, Lamare took her by the arm, he led her down the narrow street to a door. There was a small sign above the door, but she wasn't able to read the symbols, and she asked Lamare.

He looked at the sign. "It says, 'Willing Maiden Slave Wear.'"

Lana wrinkled her nose. "The man who works for you is in this place?" she whispered.

"Yes," answered Lamare, opening the door and ushering her through. "Many officials frequent his shop, and he is known for his discretion; he is an ideal source of information."

Inside the store was quite large, and Lana stopped, gaping in amazement at the incredible array of chains, leather, and surprisingly, clothing of all types, some of which looked much too formal for slaves. She saw two nearly naked girls standing around looking bored. Both were tall, full figured and pretty. "Do they work here?" she asked Lamare.

"It is their job to model or demonstrate the merchandise," said Lamare with a shrug. As they moved into the store, a large, ruggedly handsome man saw them and immediately stopped what he was doing. Lana was waiting for him to come over and greet them, but then she noticed there were some other customers in the store. Over in one corner, she saw a man looking at some strange devices, seemingly of wood and leather, and showing them to a giggling redhead dressed in a form-fitting sheer shift and short skirt. After a moment of more giggling, the couple left without buying anything.

Once the store thinned out, the man came over, and Lana suddenly felt awkward, standing there in chains, and her still enflamed body covered in a skimpy slave outfit.

"Afternoon, sir. Welcome to the Willing Maiden! Can I find anything for you? Perhaps some clothing for your lovely slave?" Lana bristled at the intrusive gaze he cast up and down her body. The men on this planet seemed to look at a woman as if they were inspecting livestock. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

Lamare shook his hand, answering. "I'm just passing through, but I never miss a chance to visit your shop."

"A repeat customer, wonderful!" said the man. "Have a look around then, and if you need anything, come into my office there in the back."

"We will, thank you," said Lamare. Just then a man walked into the store, seemed to spot Lamare, and then turned to leave again. "Stay here, girl," said Lamare, moving off in the direction of the door. Lana watched the administrator as he followed the other man out the door, and told herself to mention it to Warrick. Lamare wasn't as unreadable as Warrick, and when her abilities were working, she always sensed some form of deception in the man.

Left alone, she took the time to look around the store, repulsed and fascinated at the same time. There was a vast array of bustiers, tunics, undergarments, belts and numerous other items of clothing. There were animal skin tops and bottoms, and numerous things that seemed designed to best show off a woman's curves. Lots of sheer tops and skirts in which the wearer would be next to naked. She wandered about the store, trying to fathom the purpose of the more exotic items. Sometime later, Lana was holding up an animal skin bikini, imagining wearing it to one of her Institute classes, when a presence appeared at her side.

"You see something you like?" said Warrick with a mischievous grin. She jumped in alarm, then smiled, exclaiming "Warrick!" Without thinking, she hugged him as much as the chains would let. She gasped slightly as her enflamed body reacted to the hug. Despite her arousal, she held the hug longer than normal, enjoying the rumble of his soft laughter that echoed in his broad chest. "And no, I don't see anything interesting!" said Lana, defensively, feigning indifference. She quickly put back the bikini as if discovering she held a serpent.

"It is a pleasure to see you too." He looked at her oddly. "Are you alright? You look flushed and . . ." he paused, his vision clouding. If she didn't know better, he looked angry. He looked about. "Where is Lamare?" he asked, his tone clearly angry.

"What is it?" she asked, alarmed, and confused why he would be angry at her. He ignored her, sternly saying, "Come, let's go to Darius' office." She felt a thrill when he took her wrist and pulled her behind him as he walked through the store aisles. Lana fantasized that the warrior was firmly guiding her to his bedroom chamber. Would he even remove her chains, or would he use them in their lovemaking? The thrill quickly translated to a gush of heat between her thighs, and she cursed herself for her school girl fantasies. Lana fumbled along behind the fast-striding warrior until they entered the office and Warrick closed the door. The storekeeper turned and greeted the larger Warrick.

"Good to see you, my friend," said the shorter Darius. "I had heard . . . rumors, that you were dead."

Warrick's mood softened at the sight of his old friend. He chuckled softly. "I'm not so easy to kill, my friend, you know that!" Darius moved to give Warrick a hug. It looked like two bears embracing, thought Lana.

"I was informed ahead of time of your visit, and what to prepare, but no nothing of your mission. What brings you here, brother?" said Darius. "Certainly you have not traveled all this way to introduce me to your latest lady friend?"

Lana bristled. "Latest?" she said to Warrick, accusingly. Both men laughed, and then Warrick turned serious.

"Khan is growing concerned. Nikos' army is massing near the border, and we have no hope of defeating him should he decide to add our homeland to his collection."

Darius nodded gravely. "I have heard the same. I am polishing my swords every chance I get. I intend to be at your side if the fighting starts."

Warrick shook his head. "You are too valuable here, my friend. Which is why I am here. This is Lana, she is . . . going to help me in my mission." Darius bowed slightly at the girl, smiling broadly. He had a quite charming smile, and Lana smiled back at him.

"She is even more lovely than the last!" he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.

Lana just glared at the two men, having caught on that she was the butt of a joke. Somehow the thought of Warrick bringing another woman alarmed her.

Warrick looked nostalgic. "Yes, Reyna was quite lovely, wasn't she?"

Lana's face reddened as her rival was given a name. Then she noticed Warrick's pained expression. "Reyna? Wait, was she your agent. Of course, I'm so sorry," she said, feeling sheepish. "Perhaps we can free her?"

"We will try to find her if the opportunity presents itself," nodded Warrick grimly. "But the mission takes priority."

Darius spoke seriously. "I have prepared your travel pack, Warrick." He left and returned with a pack full of clothing and other things. "Do you mean to have her wear that?" he asked, looking at Lana's slave girl outfit, which was a bit disheveled from Lamare's misbehaviors.

"Could I remove these chains? Maybe wear a proper dress?" blurted Lana eagerly.

Darius looked at her and answered. "I suppose you could wear a dress, missy. But remember you are supposed to be a captured slave. If you were not wearing chains, people will think you're a free woman."

"What's wrong with that?" she replied, confused.

"This close to the border, it is not much of a problem. But as you go deeper into the kingdom of Wight, into Nikos' territory, if you are dressed as a free woman, unchained, some official might stop you. It's . . . complicated, but trust me, you don't want that kind of attention. That means you'd best look like a slave, wearing chains . . . and more suitable clothing - which I've provided." Darius patted the pack and gave it to Warrick.

Until she'd experienced losing her abilities, Lana hadn't known how intimidating it was to wear chains. She tried to calm herself, to view it as simply a part of her disguise..

"Oh alright, I guess that makes sense," she said, not feeling quite as calm as she sounded. Her experience with Lamare had shaken her confidence, and she found herself trembling slightly.

Warrick reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it. "You're a very brave woman, Lana. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

She looked into his eyes, their color reminding her of the ocean at night, an almost dark blue. She smiled warmly. His strong, warm hand on her shoulder was comforting, and she relaxed and nodded at him.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, followed by Lamare, who entered and closed the door behind him.

Warrick's eyes narrowed. "Where have you been?"

"I have contacts here like you do," said Lamare, matching his glare. "And I have no obligation to explain myself."

Warrick was silent, but stared at Lamare, in a way that seemed to make the administrator uncomfortable. Finally he turned back to Darius and nodded.

Darius had a serious look on his face. "Warrick, you have the pass needed to get into the outer palace, but to get past the inner gates, you'll need a tribute, if you don't mind me calling you that, milady," he added, gesturing at Lana. "I assume that is why you brought the young lady?"

Lana looked quickly at Warrick. She thought it best not to let anyone know her purpose, and Warrick must have thought the same. "She is here as tribute if necessary, but I just need to get into his palace, by any means possible."

"That will be difficult," said Darius, shaking his head. "The pass won't get you through the inner palace gates where he resides." He gestured toward Warrick's uniform. "I don't recommend you wear the uniform, if you are caught impersonating a Gorum officer, it will mean death. The only way it can be done these days is to obtain a pass, bring your village's prettiest female, and try for an audience with Nikos. If the female is deemed pleasing enough, they will grant the audience. His administrators won't accept anything else these days, from outlying provinces."

There was a pause, as everyone turned to look at her.

"What?" said Lana. "I am not the prettiest girl in the village!"

Warrick shook his head. "Lana, we discussed this remember? And don't worry, to us you look Calambrian, the most exotic of females on our world. Only more so, with your green eyes and your, uh . . . in any case, believe me, he would accept you as tribute."

"My what?" said Lana, looking from one man to the other. "Never mind, I can guess." She felt the heat on her cheeks, from his compliments as well as the thought of being served up as an offering. "I—," she murmured.

"Your shyness will only make you more desirable," said Warrick, softly, his hand coming to her shoulder.

Lana thought she might burst from embarrassment at the train of conversation.

"This is the best way," said Warrick. "It assures that you will see Nikos in person, for he will want to see a pretty Calambrian tribute in person, out of sheer curiosity. The man's thirst is legendary. And it provides a good story for why I would be traveling with a female. What do you say, Lana?" Lana sat there in thought. This had been the plan all along, only now, it was becoming a frightening reality.

"How would this work?" said Warrick, turning to Darius and giving her time to think.

"Take the young lady to the outer palace gates where they will have a diplomatic office. Tell them you want an audience with Lord Nikos, and that she is your offering."