Head Games

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An illusionist never has to play fair...
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The common room of the inn was, as expected, pretty busy. With the usual evening trade bolstered by the people that had decided to take a well-earned break from whatever business they'd been doing at the Merchant Festival, the waiting staff were running about all over the place in their attempts to keep up with demand. The noise and bustle made for a good bit of concealment, too, if that was what a person wanted, and amongst the cheerful bedlam that filled the place, there was nothing at all to set one particular table part from the others.

Except that the truly observant might have noticed that of the five people at that table, only one of them was real.

With her back to the wall, Phrae lifted her cup to her lips, letting part of her mind focus on maintaining the fake company around the table with her. She wasn't here to for fun, but for business... and not the sort that many of the folks around her would have approved of if they'd had the slightest clue.

The wine tasted pretty good, actually, and she savoured the only slightly overpriced vintage as eyes the shade of ice watched the comings and goings around her in their patient search for-

There. Nice of you to finally show up.

Blending in with the well-dressed crowd, the fair-haired man she'd been waiting for took a moment to get his bearings as he stepped from the street into the inn's bustle, and Phrae smiled to herself as she watched him share a quick word and friendly smile with the serving girl that moved over to intercept him. From the look of it, he'd turned down whatever she'd offered, but done it smoothly... and was now weaving his way through the horde as he headed for the stairs that led to the floors above.

It had taken a fair amount of effort to track him down, and more of her dwindling stock of local coin than Phrae would have preferred to confirm that he was staying here for the Festival, but simply watching him disappear again through the doorway was satisfaction enough for the moment. The satchel he'd had slung over one shoulder had been even more satisfying to see.

You may have beaten me this afternoon, sweetheart, but I guarantee you'll be losing it in the end.

The thought that flickered through her mind as she watched may have been a little ominous, but the smile that curved her lips was anything but threatening. In fact, it held the sort of promise that occasionally made men sweat for entirely different reasons... which wouldn't have been much of a shock to anyone that knew her well enough. She might as well play to her strengths, after all, and there was no need to make what she had planned any more uncomfortable than it had to be.

* * *

With a sigh of relief, Galvyn Sax, trader and purveyor of antiquities and trinkets, closed the door of his rented room behind him. Not that he wouldn't have been happy enough to spend some time down in the common room, relaxing after the day, but he needed a little time to himself after the hassles of the last few hours.

Anyone would have thought they didn't want me to actually make any damned money, he thought to himself sourly as he slid the satchel off of his shoulder and set it carefully on the sideboard. All the bureaucratic hoops they make some of us jump through, just so we can legally then hand over a percentage of whatever profit we manage to make...

It was a wonder, he'd pondered at about this point in every Merchant's festival he'd attended, that the guild that ran it actually managed to make it work. Still, he'd successfully navigated the petty annoyances for another year - and it wasn't as if the day had been a total loss.

He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the bed, and rolled his shoulders a bit as he glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall. Given the running around today, he was quite pleased to see that he'd managed to keep the outfit he'd been wearing, tailored to his tall, fit frame, from getting too shabby. In fact, he considered, if he'd had any clue where to find her, he wouldn't even need to freshen up all that much before heading out to seek some time in the company of the charming young woman he'd beaten at the auction earlier on.

She'd been quite eager to get her hands on one particular item that had been up for sale, Galvyn recalled, and had driven the bidding up to the point where he'd been on the very edge of surrender - only to have her do it first. He'd sought her out for a quick chat after the auction had been over, meaning to congratulate her on a well fought contest, and to see if he could find any hint as to just why she'd been so intent on winning.

As it turned out, she'd been remarkably evasive about that little detail... but gracious in defeat, admitting that she had only yielded thanks to simply running out of money to bid.

Galvyn laid a hand on the satchel's leather surface, frowning in thought as he wondered just what the fascination with the item inside it had been for her. To him, it represented a curiosity, and one he expected to be able to sell on into the world of academia for handsome enough profit, but he simply couldn't shake the idea that there had been far more to it than that for her.

His thoughts were broken by a knock at the door. Not a loud one, to be sure, but enough to get his attention and have him wondering just who it might be. There was no reason for any of the inn's staff to be bothering him, that he knew of at least, and none of his friends around town would be coming to call...

When he opened the door to see who it was, his curiosity about his caller's identity disappeared - only to be replaced by even more on the topic of why. As well as a bit of how, too, when he thought about it.

"Miss Shattre," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I must admit that I'm surprised to see you."

But not in any way disappointed. He'd been struck by her appearance earlier, hence the notion of seeing her again if possible, and here he was being granted another close look. And he was hardly going to complain about that. From the dark hair that flowed down over her shoulders, to the short top that fit snugly across a quite pleasing bust, to the curious style of skirt she wore that left one equally shapely leg bare all the way down to the sandals she wore on her feet, she was worth the time of a good look... and the pale blue eyes smiling up at him were hardly doing anything to discourage such an inspection.

"I imagine it is," she replied with a soft laugh, but Galvyn found himself unable to appreciate it fully. For the briefest of moments, he could have sworn there were two of her standing in front of him, and when he looked down into those eyes, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the pinkish-purple light he was sure he could see flickering deep inside them.

Somehow, though, he couldn't make himself care, and he found himself returning her smile as he stepped back from the door and gestured for her to come inside. That wasn't quite what she did, however. She stepped forward, certainly, one hand moving to rest lightly on his arm, but she didn't come all the way inside straight away. He was about to ask why when she moved again, that second or so pause dismissed from his mind as she moved again, this time coming fully into the room.

"I also imagine you're wondering why I might be here."

There was more than a hint of amusement in her tone when she spoke again, and Galvyn matched it with his own when he gave a little shrug in reply.

"True enough, Miss Shattre, but I suspect you'll enlighten me when you feel it is time."

"Please," she said, touching his arm again. "After the tussle we had this afternoon, I don't think we need to be all that formal. Call me Phrae."

"I'd be delighted to," he replied with a courteous bow of his head.

"I'm sure you would... Galvyn. And I won't leave you in suspense either, I promise. I'm here, as I'm sure is no great shock, because of the artefact we bid for." With a smile, she lifted the hand that wasn't subtly stroking his sleeve to ward off anything he might have said in response. "Don't worry, I'm not here to complain at you or anything like that. I simply wanted to congratulate you more properly on your win."

Galvyn wasn't sure how he'd failed to notice, but the hand on his arm had slid all the way up his sleeve, resting now on his shoulder for a moment before slipping around the back of his neck. He wasn't sure if he should say anything or not, or even what he should say, but he wasn't given much of a chance to think it through.

"You do know that old saying, don't you? To the victor, the spoils?"

The smile on her lips had turned from something friendly, shifting into the realms of downright flirtatious, and Galvyn opened his mouth to reply with... something. What actually happened, however, was he found himself on the receiving end when she gently pulled his head forward, lifting her own until their mouths met, the tip of her tongue brushing across his lips as her free arm went around his waist. As if that wasn't a clear enough signal of what she might have in mind, he was suddenly very aware of the way her lithe body was pressing against his own.

Almost be reflex, his arms went around her, wrapping her closer still, and he felt as much as heard the low sound of satisfaction that purred out of her when he did it - as well as the way her free hand planted itself quite happily on his ass.

Summoning up some shred of self-control Galvyn tried to ignore the silky feel of her skin under his hands, the way her breasts pressed against his chest, and the taste of her lips as she kissed him with an abandon he'd never have imagined. Somehow, he managed to pull away, breaking the kiss and putting at least enough space between them for breath.

""Miss Shat-" he started, then cut off as her fingers dug into his backside in a rather clear message. "Phrae, please, this is... Perhaps we should take a moment, gather our wits..."

Phrae just rolled her eyes, lips quirking in a grin. "Fine," she said back, "you don't want to kiss me? Fair enough, I'll just have to do something else."

And what that something else might be apparently involved her getting busy nibbling at his throat, hands roaming across his body as she slid herself smoothly down to her knees in front of him. What had happened so far had already had an effect on him, naturally enough, and he tried to make some effort to hide that fact - amid his shock at what she was doing - only for her to bat his hands away and start quite calmly and deliberately nuzzling at the growing bulge in his pants.

"Are you-"

"Shhh..." Phrae interrupted, fingers working at his fly as he tried to gather his thoroughly scattered wits. "If I wasn't sure, sweetheart, I wouldn't be doing... There we go."

With obvious satisfaction, she undid the last of the fastenings and pulled the top of her rather willing captive's pants open and pulled them down enough to get at what she was after. Released from its confines, Galvyn's hardened shaft sprang free, and Phrae giggled in pure pleasure at the fact that the six inch length was just as obviously happy to see her.

"Oh, hello there..." she purred, stroking her fingertips from root to tip, her other hand delving just as gently to scoop his sack into the open air as well. "Let's see what you think of getting a kiss, shall we?"

Even if Galvyn had been able to summon up any sort of protest, it would have died on his lips as the woman kneeling at his feet leaned forward to run her tongue around the swollen head of his member, dragging a groan from him as he felt the wet heat of her mouth start to envelop him with agonising slowness. The delicious torture didn't stop there, either, as she began massaging his balls whilst sucking him ever deeper into her mouth. Shivering with sensation, Galvyn found his hands tangling in her hair as she swallowed what felt like every last inch of him.

Looking down, he found Phrae looking back up at him, a mirthful twinkle in her eyes as she pulled her head back again until his length fell free of her lips with a slurping sound. With one hand wrapped around his shaft, she stroked it almost possessively as she grinned up at him. "Now this," she said, giving him a bit of a waggle, "Is the proper sort of reaction when someone puts their mouth to work on you."

"I stand corrected, dear lady," Galvyn chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he tried to figure out just what might have possessed this young woman to act the way she was. Not that he was complaining, mind. Just rather curious.

"You also stand erected, which suits me just fine."

As, in fact, she proceeded to demonstrate. Galvyn couldn't help but groan in pleasure as she took him into her mouth once again, the slick heat of her mouth enveloping him as she got busy licking and sucking her way down to the base of his cock once again. Without really thinking about it, his hands in her hair held her in place as he began to rock his hips back and forth just a little, and Phrae's response was a happy sounding, if muffled by the fact her mouth was full, chuckle.

Taking that as encouragement, Galvyn started to be a bit more energetic, and she met every one of his thrusts with what looked and felt like an earnest attempt to swallow every last inch of him. It wasn't just her mouth and tongue that were working on him, either. Once he'd started moving his hips, she'd answered by teasing his sack with her fingertips, stroking and massaging his balls with one hand as the other caressed his thigh in evident pleasure.

After a couple of minutes of very enjoyable silence, broken only by the occasional slurp and murmur of pleasure, Phrae put both hands on his hips, stilling them as she looked up at him with a devilish little twinkle. He was almost disappointed when she pulled back, but only until she gave the very end of his shaft a delicate little lick. There was something almost mesmerising about the way a thread of sticky, glistening fluid stretched from the head of his cock to the tip of her tongue, and she let it hang there for a second or so before licking it up.

"Mm-mm," she hummed, "Very nice."

"I'm glad you approve."

"I certainly do. But there's something I'd very much like you to do for me right now."

"Oh?" he asked warily, suddenly more than a little suspicious about what might come out of her mouth next. As it turned out, it was a playful laugh.

"Oh don't be so paranoid. Just hold still."

"If you insist," he replied, frowning a bit. "But it would be nice to know why."

Her only answer was a smile, then she dropped her gaze to his cock once more, licking her lips as she took a slow, deep breath. Which, he noted, did very interesting things to the breast that seemed even more barely constrained by her top than they had earlier...

"Okay," she murmured seemingly to herself. Further wondering as to what she had in mind got put on hold yet again as Galvyn watched - and felt - her wrap her lips around the head of his dick once more, and gently urged his hips forward. Obliging, he watched as, inch by inch, his member disappeared between those swollen lips until there was no more room for him go further. Or so it seemed to him. Phrae, on the other hand, apparently had other ideas.

Backing off just a touch, she swallowed, which was an interesting enough sensation for him as it was even before she pushed her head forward once more. Galvyn felt the head of his cock pressing against the back of her throat and opened his mouth to say... something, only to gasp instead as he felt her swallow again. For what felt like a timeless moment, both of them were utterly still, until finally - and he had no idea how - Galvyn felt that last bit of resistance disappear. The last inch or so of his cock vanished between Phrae's lips, and she tilted her head back just a touch, enough for her to meet his eyes with her own as the hair at the base of his shaft ticked her nose.

Phrae pulled her head back once again, grinning up at him as she let his dick fall from her mouth, a couple of strands of saliva stringing their way between them as she took another deep breath.

"That feel okay?" she asked, stroking him as she spoke. In all honesty, it had felt incredible, and as Galvyn tried to work out how to put it into words, she must have simply read it on his face. With a low, throaty laugh, she gave him a thoroughly cheeky grin. "Good. Now, let's try that again... with feeling."

In a flash, she took him into her mouth once again, wasting no time before repeating what she'd done before - only this time with far less caution. Galvyn groaned as she buried her face in his crotch once again, hands fisting in her hair as his hips thrust forward, trying to push himself even deeper into her hot and willing throat. The feeling of what she was doing too him was getting too much, and all pretence of gentleness disappeared from between them as he began to simply fuck her eager mouth.

That couldn't last, of course, and finally, with a hoarse groan Galvyn pulled himself from her sucking lips, wrapping a hand around his shaft and jerking it roughly a few times. That was all it took, and there was no mistaking the delighted peals of laughter that escaped Phrae's throat as the climax she'd driven him to ripped through him. As almost agonising waves of pleasure crashed through min, Galvyn was dimly aware of the way Phrae moved her head, deliberately positioning herself so that the spurts of cum erupting from his cock spattered themselves across the fair skin of her face - those that didn't land in her hair.

"Gods!" he explained, barely able to form the word, and only the tiniest sliver of his awareness noticed what sounded a whole lot like the door closing. The young woman on her knees, grinning up at him as she licked her lips clean of the strands of seed that had fallen on them, met his almost wondering gaze with a devilish one of her own.

Until the moment she seemed to splinter, lines of pinkish-purple light flashing across her like cracks in a mirror. He barely had time for his brain to try and process what he was seeing before she simply disintegrated, evaporating as if she'd never existed and leaving nothing but a rapidly fading cloud of what his stunned mind could only call butterflies...

* * *

Satchel slung over her shoulder, Phrae walked casually - but quickly - down the stairs and into the inn's common room once again. Threading her way through the crowd, she wasted no time at all in heading out of the building and hitting the streets, picking a random direction and simply moving.

With any luck at all, Master Sax would be distracted enough trying to figure out what the hell had just happened that he'd not notice the fact she'd lifted his bag and simply walked away with it. Admittedly, she could have done it sooner, but she'd not been able to resist taking the time to appreciate the way he'd looked as the simulacrum of herself she'd summoned up had given him what she liked to think was a decently competent blow-job.

Hell, the way she went at it, I might not have even needed to cloak myself...

That thought had her chuckling as she took a turning at random, but the humour faded as she rested a hand on the satchel. She didn't need to look, to confirm with her own eyes that what she was after was in there. She could feel it, calling to her, tugging gently at her very soul.

To him, it might have been an interesting relic, an item of academic interest to people who'd buy it off him. To her, it was more. It was the chance, the thinnest sliver of hope, that she'd be able to get to the place she was having more and more trouble even remembering.

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