See Her Pleasure In My Eyes

The doors swung open, and I stood before her, flanked by two of her zombie underlings. Even though I took this to be her personal bedroom, the stench of death and decay was unmistakable and unavoidable. The thought of who I might see on the other side of that door bothered me more than the two shambling corpses who had escorted me here. She was a Necromancer, it was assumed she'd have undead servants. They don't need to breath, don't need to eat, and don't complain if they are ordered to work for days on end without a rest. Perfect little slaves. Just like me...

The sight wasn't anything like what I was prepared for. I had been expecting an adult, but this girl before me was only twenty if she was a day. Her blonde hair, streaked here and there with lines of red, flowed loose around her shoulders. Dark black eyes looked into mine, groping my inner thoughts with just her gaze. My mind started to fog, and I surrendered to her allure.

"Funny," She remarked to her servants, "I don't remember her being among the prisoners. I was expecting another man, like last time, but…" She looked at me, eyes roaming up and down, lips pursed in thought. "I suppose you will do for tonight. Won't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," I heard myself answer.

"Wonderful. Leave us."

The two shambling husks of former humans grunted in unison, released their grips on my arms, and lurched back down the hall into the shadows. I watched one of them go, the infected, maggot-infested sword wound on its back completely ignored. Why wouldn't you use something a bit cleaner as a slave, I wondered. Something less grotesque, at least?

She led me by the elbow, and I followed without hesitation. The first step my bare foot took on the floor of her room, I shivered. The flagstone was so…cold. I looked at her naked legs, her bootless feet, and wondered how she tolerated it.

She brought me further into the room, then stopped, gazing into my eyes again, as if to make certain the spell had taken hold. Cold ran up my spine, but I did my best not to shiver again. Finally satisfied that she had me right where she wanted me, she turned away and shrugged off her cloak.

I looked around the room. It was tremendous for just a single occupant, easily sixty by sixty, if not more. Candles flickered in the corners, stuck to the tops of skulls (human and otherwise) with clotted wax. From somewhere that I could not immediately identify, a scent of incense floated into my nostrils. Cheap aroma, yes, but anything masking the smell of death was better than nothing, I supposed.

Suddenly she was in front of me again with a movement so subtle that it caught me by surprise. I stepped back involuntarily, but she only smiled. "I want you to ball up your fist, and hit me. Right now. With all your strength."

God knows I wanted to, I knew what she was, but my hand stayed firmly rooted at my side. I clenched my fingers, pulled at my muscles, screamed at them to obey me just this one. But they refused.

She laughed. "Excellent. You cannot. I assure you, this is a good thing. Please, come this way."

I followed her to the massive bed that dominated the center of the room. A four-poster canopy affair, it looked large enough to sleep six man-sized humanoids comfortably, much less her small body and mine.

She stepped behind me, and I felt the straps on my tunic being loosened. I had tied the knots well, and she got frustrated quickly. Once again, she was in front of me. I watched her lick the small fingernail of her right hand, then she drew it across the shoulders of my shirt. The fabric parted for her as though it were smoke, and the garment dropped to the floor. Again, a chill seized my body, but I stood still.

Taking my face in her hands, she pressed her lips to mine and held the kiss for a moment before stepping back. The smile still had not left her face; it was the smile of one who was completely in control, and knew it. "Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

"Jasmine," I replied.

"As the spice. Magnificent. Do you know why you are here?"

"I do, Mistress."

"Good..." At her gesture, the ties holding her shirt to her skin unbound themselves. She wore no bra, instead her pale breasts with their small, pink nipples perked up at once from the direct exposure to the cold. Her stomach was flat as well, like that of one who got enough exercise to keep fat away, but not enough to bulk her up like a man. "You are still over-dressed to be in my chambers. As my guest, I insist you remedy this at once."

"Of course, Mistress." The small leather skirt I was wearing which barely hid my modesty found itself on the floor beside her top.

"Mine too."

Silently, I nodded, knelt on the floor and pulled the short pants she was wearing down to the stones. One leg at a time, she stepped out of them, and bade me rise. Her hand went to my back, and I felt the nail part the strap of my brassiere as she had done to my shirt before. The fabric slowly peeled away from my skin, but I did not move to cover myself.

Then both hands were at my hips, and the last vestige of my clothing gave way to her fingers, slit up both legs to the waistband. It fell to the ground, joining the rest of the accumulated garments there. All that remained was a slender strap of fabric which circled my left thigh.

"Now then, see to my underwear."

I bent again, and put my hands on her hips, but her fingers brought my chin up to face her. "With just your mouth."

Nodding, I silently placed my lips at the top of her panties, clenched the fabric with my teeth, and tugged gently. They started to come down in the front.

She stepped sideways with her left leg, halting the progress I had made. "You can do better than that."

Taking the hint, I nuzzled her crotch with my nose, noting her heady scent, like that of a fine, aged wine. I kissed swiftly, then grabbed the fabric again in my teeth, and tore them from her legs, ripping them down the front so that the back side fell to the floor, while I was left with the crotch piece still between my lips. I let it slide from my mouth.

She stretched, put a hand on my hand when I started to stand, and tapped me. "I did not tell you to get up."

"Of course not, Mistress," I replied, kneeling down again.

"Now you may rise," she said, taunting me, and took her hand away.

I stood again, taking in the curves and form of her body as I did so. Her legs were firm, but not overly tight as one of travels long on foot. Her hands were smooth, deceptively so, for one who worked so closely and intricately with the dark arts. A subtle aura of energy wrapped itself around her at all times, barely perceptible to my proximity. Her crotch had been shaven, devoid of any sprout of hair. Without knowing why, I wanted her.

Her face was as smooth as the finest silk I had seen in the city, and almost as white. Being out in the sun was obviously not a priority to her, but it enhanced her beauty in some way, making her seem delicate and doll-like. It was little wonder men had died for her while in her company. She looked fragile, the kind of look that inspired others to protect and defend. But it was all a deception. Within her flowed powerful energies, strong enough to yank the dead from their graves, force mummies from hidden tombs, and repair the skeletons of warriors who perished on the battlefield centuries earlier. That this girl had so much strength thrust into such a delicate frame amazed me, and I found myself speechless as I looked into her eyes.

"You are doing well so far," she said softly. "Let us test further."

She led me to the bed, laid upon it, then bade me join her. "For the moment, I am yours to do with as you please. But..." Her eyes flared yellow for a split second, as though the coming thought caused her extreme anger, and she pulled my ear to her lips where she whispered harshly. "Do not disappoint me, or I will not hesitate to let every last one of your companions become dinner for my servants. And then, after you have watched the flesh and muscles torn from their bones, listened to their tortured screams of agony, and their pleadings for release, after you have watched them all perish, one by one, before your eyes, you will see them rise again, and serve as their first meal. The dead are always so...hungry...when they first re-join this plane."

Again, I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. "I...I understand, Mistress."

She released my head, laid back, and closed her eyes, and purred. "Yes. I know you do."

I swallowed, then dipped my head towards hers. Our lips touched, and I reveled in the chill of them, so red and yet cold. I could not keep my tongue to myself, pushing it between her lips and teeth, tasting the coolness as much as feeling it for myself. Her arms wrapped across my bare back, and I felt her fingernails brushing me gently, exciting my skin with their touch.

I ran my hands through her hair, spreading it out beside her on the pillows, wrapping it around my fingers as I kissed her as deeply and passionately as I had ever kissed any man, tugging at the ends and running it across her chest. She opened her legs, and I laid completely across her, breasts pressed together in our embrace. Though she seemed to draw the heat from my body, the reactions to what I was doing coursed through my blood, heating me as quickly as she chilled, bringing every part of me to a tingling sensation I had never felt before, like being caressed with a thousand invisible, incorporeal feathers. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, stinging initially like ice, but the sensation faded after some seconds, and I soon forgot that anything was different about it.

Her left hand pressed my head to hers, while her right hand continued to rub up and down my spine, and I arched my back without breaking the embrace. My heart beat faster, and I felt her breathing deepen as we still kissed.

Propping myself up with one arm, I let my right hand drift to her left breast, feeling the supple, delicate orb with my fingertips. This time, she was the one who shivered, not I, as I traced the swell of her nipple, which was standing out from the temperature and, I hoped, my actions so far.

I released her mouth from mine, and she grudgingly let it go when she felt my tongue sliding down her neck. Both of her hands went to my breasts, cupping them with the palms to the nipples, and a charge of electricity and cold shot through my body.

I sucked on her neck for a moment, then made my way lower, my tongue gliding across her breast, then across the areola. I nibbled around the light pink area for a few seconds before I took the nipple between my lips.

She moaned under me, and pressed her body closer to mine. Her hands left my chest, then danced up through my hair and down again on my cheeks. I felt moisture between my legs, but ignored it for the moment.

I switched breasts, and this produced another moan from her. With my mouth on her left one, I swirled the saliva left on the right around on her skin, sucking in and out, and nibbling as I went. The liquid cooled quickly against the pale mound of her chest. As I felt her part her legs farther, I knew she was ready, and was surprised it hadn't taken longer than this.

"Lower, slave."

I slipped my hand between her legs and cupped her crotch, but she slapped my hand away. "If I wanted your fingers, I would have told you. You have other parts that are much better suited to this. Use them."

"Yes, Mistress." With a feeling of disappointment, I removed my mouth from her breast, and slid down her stomach, kissing as I went, before I reached the top of her pubic mound. I hesitated, and she put her hand on the back of my head, locking me there for the moment.

"Remember what will happen if you fail to please me," she warned.

I did not reply, for the visions conjured up from that warning were less than pleasant. I forgot them, though, as I put my lips to her crotch. It was the only part of her body I had yet encountered that was actually warm. My lips, by contrast, were well-chilled from their previous contact with her skin, and she twitched as they made contact.

I placed delicate, soft kisses around her vulva, and poked here and there with my tongue, playing with her, taking her pleasure into my own hands so to speak. In my mind, I was now the master, not the slave. She pulled her knees up, and I rested my head between her thighs, poking and prodding with my tongue, feeling the electricity charge in the air around us. A cool breeze blew through the room, making the candles flicker and shadows dance.

Finally, I spread her outer lips with my hands, closed my eyes, and placed my mouth fully on her. My tongue found her clit, and I flicked it a few times before exploring new places. The change in her attitude was immediate: gone was the dark demeanor of the Necromancer. In its place was simply a young girl, one who lusted for pleasure as much as any of the rest of us. She squeaked, and I kissed harder, more forceful.

I pushed her legs away from me, and she spread them further, laying them flat on the sheets. My hands found her breasts again, and I pinched the nipples as I sucked on her bare clit. She squirmed, and I could tell she was trying very hard not to cry out. This time, she was going to get more than she bargained for.

I knew the Mistress/Slave relationship had dissolved when I felt her hand probe towards my inner thighs, but I pushed it away. She didn't argue when I replaced her hand with my own, moving instead to tousle my hair.

I worked at her slowly, letting her savour every touch, every lick, every caress. When I chanced to look up, I saw her place her middle finger into her mouth, wetting it from top to bottom, and biting down on it, trying to distract herself so as to prolong the pleasure.

Two could play that game. I snaked my tongue around her clit, sliding up and down the small bump briefly before I covered it with my mouth, sucked it, and gripped it closely with my teeth. Only for a moment did I hold it before I let it go, then did the same thing again.

Not even her finger could prevent the cry of pleasure, and I sucked again with renewed vigour. My hand slid between my own legs, and I caressed my sweet spot gently. One of her hands fumbled to find my breast, but couldn't manage to stay there for long before she convulsed again from my oral ministrations. I felt the sheets by my hand bunch up, as though they were being gripped tightly, then released again several times in succession.

But I was not done yet. Not by a long shot.

I turned back to just my tongue, fluttering it around her slit, toying with her, jabbing her clit when she least expected it, other times avoiding it while I licked every other available surface. I rubbed her legs, which she wrapped around my back, pinning me into the position where she wanted me.

After a few more sucks, bites, and licks, however, her legs were again spread apart as far as she could get them. It was getting harder to keep myself on target, as she kept bucking her hips at the most inopportune times. More than once, I felt her hands on the back of my head, but like her legs, they didn't stay there. Twice, when I looked, I saw that they had settled across her breasts, and were continuing the work I had begun before. My own fingers worked furiously, as I was determined not to be the only one who got off tonight. Twice, the back of my hand brushed the small band wrapped around my right leg, but I ignored it and went about my business.

The first part of the orgasm rippled through her, and she exhaled softly, the most feminine sound I had ever heard in my life. One of her hands clenched the bed sheet while the other rubbed and massaged her own breast. I worked on her for a few more seconds, and she exhaled a second time. I removed my mouth, put one of my arms behind her, pulled her to a kneeling position, and kissed her sharply on the lips as my other arm dipped between her legs to continue the orgasm. I could tell she wasn't finished.

She kissed back just as passionately, greedily lapping up my tongue when I offered it to her, but didn't argue when I left her mouth to suck again on her beautiful nipples.

My other hand unwrapped itself from her back and went between my thighs again, as I stroked myself and her at the same time while we both knelt on the bed. Once, I chanced to look up, and saw, reflected in her eyes, the pleasure I was feeling in my own. The deep, dark spheres of her pupils extended an infinite distance inward, showing everything and nothing about her at once.

She shuddered, and I went back to her breast, openly biting the nipple now, pinching it between my teeth hard enough that she would feel the pain, but not hard enough to draw blood. She tried to snake one of her fingers into my mouth, but I denied it, and she went to work on her other breast.

Just as I saw she was about ready to come, I wrapped my arm around her back again, holding her steady. My other hand slid from between my legs and up towards my inner thigh, fingering the strap there.

Quick as a flash, as the first part of the new orgasm began to subside, I slid the thin blade from the concealing strap, grasped it firmly, shook the cloud from my mind, and, with calculated aim even though my eyes were closed, I stabbed it neatly into her back.

The blade was so thin and the strike so precise that there was very little blood. I dropped the knife off the side of the bed, and returned my hand to her clit, rubbing again enough to excite, but soft enough to continue her climax.

She gasped as I removed the blade from her back, and went to inhale. From the soft whistling sound I heard as she took a breath, I knew my aim had been true. One of her lungs had been punctured, yet she was not dead.

I gently laid her down on the bed, and gazed into her eyes, which were wide with amazement, bent down, and kissed her left breast softly. A chill wind moved through the room, extinguishing the candles as it passed. I heard her struggling to get enough breath to make it through the next rolling wave of her orgasm. She had spirit, I had to give her that much. If not for the poison from the blade, which calmed even a body in the throes of suffocation, what happened next would not have been possible.

I pushed her legs apart again, feeling her entire lower body quivering as I did so, and returned my lips and tongue to her clit. As I listened to her, breathing so heavily, I almost felt a twinge of pity. Almost.

I sucked on that little pink bump, again sliding it across my teeth, and I felt her shivering. Her legs sat up, then fell back down again, but I did not let up. From inside her came the most drastic build up I had ever seen, and she tensed as I eased off her clit with my tongue, replaced it with my finger, and slid up to look her in the eyes as she laid there, helpless. I kissed her lips strongly, wanting her to know, at that moment, exactly how much I loved her, how much pleasure she gave me by her mere presence here. Surprisingly, she kissed back, as though she had refused to accept what was coming. A look of calm settled across her face, even as she struggled to breathe. I kissed her once on each eye, closed them, and returned my attention to her crotch.

Slowly, the build-up became a crescendo, as she moaned the best she could under the circumstances, and shook from the hips up. Lovingly, I coaxed every last ounce of pleasure out of her sweet spot that I could. With her fading strength, I felt her hand again at my crotch, and I held it there until the shaking had stopped once and for all, and her chest rose and fell for the last time.

Shaking my head, I kissed her lips one final time, and for once, they felt warm, as the lips of the living do.

I finished myself off just staring at her beautiful, ageless body and the smile that creased her face, and with my climax, I screamed as loud as I could, savouring the release as much as any assassin can.