Post by - Ixy - on Dec 1, 2007 18:47:05 GMT -5
[WARNING: Sexual Content, Reader Descression advised]
The moon hung in the in the horizon in the distance and the sun was already peeking up over the east. She made her way from the ship moments after it docked in the early morning, down thick rope that kept it still against the docks.
Nigel had approached the port ledger-man in negotiation of supplies and trade, Fabrizia slipped away in the cover of shadow and darkness.
The little salt and pepper black speckled, black, white and grey cat moved through the streets of an Egyptian port town. Down back alleys searching for a specific place, thoughts of a person she loved with all her heart in her head, but business is business. She had a mission and a favor, a duty to her captain and the ship.
She found a couch that was heading inland further, the object of her desire was no in this town, but another. The road leading out of this city, the same road the couch roared down, would eventually intersect with the city she needed to be in. the largest city in the region and home to several politically influential people.
She didn’t speak the local language, but she didn’t need to, her body, her appearance, would be enough. She approached the building where she knew he’d be. How did she know? Nigel told her. She had long ago learned not to question Nigel, he was far to mysterious and knowing. She simply did what he asked, and now he was asking for a book.
Fortunately she knew enough, and the coming of the Ottoman Empire had meant a mixture of culture and so some where in there, she would find use for at least one of the languages she already knew. She entered an alley way, and came out the other end, as a stunning beautiful woman.
She was dressed in a long dress, it was tight along her abdomen and chest, forcing her voluptuous (D?) breasts up into a delicious expression of cleavage. Her narrow shoulders are bare and she wears white gloves with black designs, that cover all the way up to her bicep. Her blonde hair is styled lightly, but mostly left to hang at her face and flow as beautifully as she does.
She hurried around the corner and up the steps. She moved to the door man that stood in front of large carved wooden doors and whispered to him as she leaned in. she took his hand. He nodded, and she moved away, he tucked his hand into his pocket and watched her go with lust in his eyes.
Fabrizia could tell the right man anything, and he’d believe it. She could speak any lie or offer any word as truth, and if the man was right, He’d believe her as surely as the sun rises. And for Fabrizia, Most men were right. Thus gaining access to the royal library was just that easy. And so there she stood amidst hall ways and path ways and layers and levels of books all housed within a grand stone building.
She was looking for a man. A man she had little description of, saving having seen a portrait painting of some time ago. He was not from this country, in fact he was hiding within it. And he had the book that Nigel wanted.
She waited, she watched, she wondered. She knew he’d come here, at least once today. It was his ilk, his pride. He read and advised, and studied. While not a possessor or true magic or even sorcery, he was still quite knowing. She found herself getting looks along the way, to which she would respond with winks and smiles. By noon, half the men in the library yearned for her.
She happened across a gathering of men within an open area of the library. They were all dressed as scholars and seemed to be speaking among themselves in debate. Among them stood her prize. She grinned at him and winked. He looked at her and blushed, Paused by her stare. Then quickly recovered and continued his discussion.
He’s an older man, wearing a robe of expensive tastes. In his hand he has a thick book, opened he seems to be quoting from it, though the language isn’t known to her. Among the dark skinned that sat around him, he was the only caucasion. He seemed to be lecturing. He was much older than all of them of course.
Suddenly they all broke up into groups and began discussing amonst themselves. Fabrizia took this sudden queue as her chance to strike. And she did, fast and hard. Invokeing the powers of Fascination she lured him in like a moth to the flame. She spoke his native tongue rather well, Greek.
”Hello.” She whispered. There was a flirtive gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. Her icy blue eyes focused on his, then looked away as she faked a blush and looked down, still smiling, softly, locks of golden blonde hair fell in front of her eyes.
”Good evening my dear, I would enjoy the treat of your name.” He replied, partially shocked that Fabrizia knew his language, then again, She did not seem as if she was from around here.
“My name is Josaline Roalinda” she said cutely. Her blush continued “What were you teaching them.” She made idle small talk. Her hook was already in his mouth, and he suckled upon it readily.
”the art of philosophy young lady.” He said with apartly weathered voice. He was easily into his 50s. He isn’t very attractive. But he behaves as if he has quite a fortune, which was good enough for some women. “May I ask what a beautiful lady has come to this grand library for?
She giggled at him and smiled “As a gift to you Lord Boguir. An appreciation of your services.” She smiled softly, and then moved forward, and grasped a hold of his crotch. An action that would’ve likely been returned with the death penalty if she was convicted, she squeezed his hardness through his robe.
But as Fabrizia had assumed, the man did not object, In fact he sighed softly, and likely thought some egotistical pattern of thoughts in the back of his mind “Ahh, my dear, there is a place, it is not here. Though I am glad to see you are eager in your task. Come, we will go to my home.” He said throatily, and already husky with lust.
The two left the library and made their way together through the winding streets towards a secluded stone home that was lined with guards and mercenaries that would sooner rape Fabrizia than listen to her lust inspiring whispers of manipulation. Thus the reason she needed his escort onto the premises.
The sex she gave him, was of course mind breaking and amazing. Performed in a partially distasteful manor, as many old men are accustomed to having by that age, but she expressed this pattern of anal, breast gripping, biting raw sex to conceal a secrete of her own. She was stealthy and crafty how ever, she’d been doing this far far to long. She’d made sure the lights were doused, and assured at least part of her clothing stayed on for the majority of the exploits and promiscuity.
She finished him off with a marathon of oral sex that would bring any man to unconsciousness and behaved with more very *friendly* persontish, lustfulness than any one he’d likely encountered in his entire life. Fabrizia was a master of these things how ever, she’d been doing it for a long time now.
When he was passed out, the evening was on its way. She redressed and quickly assumed cat-form once more, a small feline form for most Bastet, But still larger than a regular house cat. She moved stealthily, easily avoiding the chamber-maids and servents and guardians of the grand manor.
It didn’t take much wondering to find the mans private library, and again. Not much time to find the book she wanted. A leather bound blood book with inscriptions she herself didn’t even understand. She returned to her homid form and grabbed the book up and quietly snuck out of a window. She moved along the outer wall of the house, into a near by back alley. The book was to large to carry in Feline form, so she’d have to stick to the back alleys…Nightfall was creeping up quickly. And would be there by the time she returned to the ship…
How ever, It was all, yet again, another day of good, exceptionally done work that earned her place on The Reaver. She’d give Nigel the book, Nigel would express his thanks and they would share private words.
Then Fabrizia would rush off into the bowels of the ship…To find another….
The moon hung in the in the horizon in the distance and the sun was already peeking up over the east. She made her way from the ship moments after it docked in the early morning, down thick rope that kept it still against the docks.
Nigel had approached the port ledger-man in negotiation of supplies and trade, Fabrizia slipped away in the cover of shadow and darkness.
The little salt and pepper black speckled, black, white and grey cat moved through the streets of an Egyptian port town. Down back alleys searching for a specific place, thoughts of a person she loved with all her heart in her head, but business is business. She had a mission and a favor, a duty to her captain and the ship.
She found a couch that was heading inland further, the object of her desire was no in this town, but another. The road leading out of this city, the same road the couch roared down, would eventually intersect with the city she needed to be in. the largest city in the region and home to several politically influential people.
She didn’t speak the local language, but she didn’t need to, her body, her appearance, would be enough. She approached the building where she knew he’d be. How did she know? Nigel told her. She had long ago learned not to question Nigel, he was far to mysterious and knowing. She simply did what he asked, and now he was asking for a book.
Fortunately she knew enough, and the coming of the Ottoman Empire had meant a mixture of culture and so some where in there, she would find use for at least one of the languages she already knew. She entered an alley way, and came out the other end, as a stunning beautiful woman.
She was dressed in a long dress, it was tight along her abdomen and chest, forcing her voluptuous (D?) breasts up into a delicious expression of cleavage. Her narrow shoulders are bare and she wears white gloves with black designs, that cover all the way up to her bicep. Her blonde hair is styled lightly, but mostly left to hang at her face and flow as beautifully as she does.
She hurried around the corner and up the steps. She moved to the door man that stood in front of large carved wooden doors and whispered to him as she leaned in. she took his hand. He nodded, and she moved away, he tucked his hand into his pocket and watched her go with lust in his eyes.
Fabrizia could tell the right man anything, and he’d believe it. She could speak any lie or offer any word as truth, and if the man was right, He’d believe her as surely as the sun rises. And for Fabrizia, Most men were right. Thus gaining access to the royal library was just that easy. And so there she stood amidst hall ways and path ways and layers and levels of books all housed within a grand stone building.
She was looking for a man. A man she had little description of, saving having seen a portrait painting of some time ago. He was not from this country, in fact he was hiding within it. And he had the book that Nigel wanted.
She waited, she watched, she wondered. She knew he’d come here, at least once today. It was his ilk, his pride. He read and advised, and studied. While not a possessor or true magic or even sorcery, he was still quite knowing. She found herself getting looks along the way, to which she would respond with winks and smiles. By noon, half the men in the library yearned for her.
She happened across a gathering of men within an open area of the library. They were all dressed as scholars and seemed to be speaking among themselves in debate. Among them stood her prize. She grinned at him and winked. He looked at her and blushed, Paused by her stare. Then quickly recovered and continued his discussion.
He’s an older man, wearing a robe of expensive tastes. In his hand he has a thick book, opened he seems to be quoting from it, though the language isn’t known to her. Among the dark skinned that sat around him, he was the only caucasion. He seemed to be lecturing. He was much older than all of them of course.
Suddenly they all broke up into groups and began discussing amonst themselves. Fabrizia took this sudden queue as her chance to strike. And she did, fast and hard. Invokeing the powers of Fascination she lured him in like a moth to the flame. She spoke his native tongue rather well, Greek.
”Hello.” She whispered. There was a flirtive gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. Her icy blue eyes focused on his, then looked away as she faked a blush and looked down, still smiling, softly, locks of golden blonde hair fell in front of her eyes.
”Good evening my dear, I would enjoy the treat of your name.” He replied, partially shocked that Fabrizia knew his language, then again, She did not seem as if she was from around here.
“My name is Josaline Roalinda” she said cutely. Her blush continued “What were you teaching them.” She made idle small talk. Her hook was already in his mouth, and he suckled upon it readily.
”the art of philosophy young lady.” He said with apartly weathered voice. He was easily into his 50s. He isn’t very attractive. But he behaves as if he has quite a fortune, which was good enough for some women. “May I ask what a beautiful lady has come to this grand library for?
She giggled at him and smiled “As a gift to you Lord Boguir. An appreciation of your services.” She smiled softly, and then moved forward, and grasped a hold of his crotch. An action that would’ve likely been returned with the death penalty if she was convicted, she squeezed his hardness through his robe.
But as Fabrizia had assumed, the man did not object, In fact he sighed softly, and likely thought some egotistical pattern of thoughts in the back of his mind “Ahh, my dear, there is a place, it is not here. Though I am glad to see you are eager in your task. Come, we will go to my home.” He said throatily, and already husky with lust.
The two left the library and made their way together through the winding streets towards a secluded stone home that was lined with guards and mercenaries that would sooner rape Fabrizia than listen to her lust inspiring whispers of manipulation. Thus the reason she needed his escort onto the premises.
The sex she gave him, was of course mind breaking and amazing. Performed in a partially distasteful manor, as many old men are accustomed to having by that age, but she expressed this pattern of anal, breast gripping, biting raw sex to conceal a secrete of her own. She was stealthy and crafty how ever, she’d been doing this far far to long. She’d made sure the lights were doused, and assured at least part of her clothing stayed on for the majority of the exploits and promiscuity.
She finished him off with a marathon of oral sex that would bring any man to unconsciousness and behaved with more very *friendly* persontish, lustfulness than any one he’d likely encountered in his entire life. Fabrizia was a master of these things how ever, she’d been doing it for a long time now.
When he was passed out, the evening was on its way. She redressed and quickly assumed cat-form once more, a small feline form for most Bastet, But still larger than a regular house cat. She moved stealthily, easily avoiding the chamber-maids and servents and guardians of the grand manor.
It didn’t take much wondering to find the mans private library, and again. Not much time to find the book she wanted. A leather bound blood book with inscriptions she herself didn’t even understand. She returned to her homid form and grabbed the book up and quietly snuck out of a window. She moved along the outer wall of the house, into a near by back alley. The book was to large to carry in Feline form, so she’d have to stick to the back alleys…Nightfall was creeping up quickly. And would be there by the time she returned to the ship…
How ever, It was all, yet again, another day of good, exceptionally done work that earned her place on The Reaver. She’d give Nigel the book, Nigel would express his thanks and they would share private words.
Then Fabrizia would rush off into the bowels of the ship…To find another….
