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Sweetness


hyokahey

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Hmm...I am trying to decide how far to extend the story...at least two more chapters, methinks...then, what about all that happened before the start of this story...who is Anton? Why did he owe our lead character? What is the story behind sweetness? How did she become a sub? Shall my lead ever get a name?

I fear this may take some time.

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Mika is a great name! ;)

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Hmm...I am trying to decide how far to extend the story...at least two more chapters, methinks...then, what about all that happened before the start of this story...who is Anton? Why did he owe our lead character? What is the story behind sweetness? How did she become a sub? Shall my lead ever get a name?

I fear this may take some time.

Can't wait for it!

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Hmm...I am trying to decide how far to extend the story...at least two more chapters, methinks...then, what about all that happened before the start of this story...who is Anton? Why did he owe our lead character? What is the story behind sweetness? How did she become a sub? Shall my lead ever get a name?

I fear this may take some time.

We leave these questions to be answered by the Master. ;)

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He navigated by the stars into the desert night. It took him the entire night and most of the next morning to find the cave that the trader had taken four gold pieces for telling him the location. He had taken no food or water with him, for he was now numb and uncaring of his own well being, since his Ana was gone. He only knew the blindness of those who are filled with vengeance.

He was tattered and torn upon his arrival; he approached cautiously, not knowing what he was to find. He waited at the mouth of the cave for some time, both resting and considering his next move. All was quiet. In fact, it looked deserted but for the disturbed sand that clearly indicated activity at the cave. He decided to take some shelter and wait until he saw someone go in or out.

As the desert sun beat down, his thoughts drifted like the shadow of the shade from the rocks above him slowly creeping across the sand. He thought of Ana, of course, and the last time they were together as lovers. It was the end of a long and arduous day of work; stone masonry was not easy, even when you were and expert, as he was. Hot and sweaty, hungry and parched, he arrived home to find her humming a small tune, baking flat bread loaves, boiling vegetables, and roasting the rare joint of lamb. The smells of her cooking were intoxicating. When she saw him, she removed the finished loaves from the baking stone, set aside the boiling vegetables, and allowed the lamb to continue to roast.

She rose and came to him, and began to disrobe him from his dirty and sweat soaked tunic, then his undergarment wrap. She smiled as she ever so softly gave his cock a single stroke, and then cupped his balls. He sighed, and she turned to retrieve the large jar of oil used for cleansing, and the shaped body scraper. They stepped outdoors to the back of their small stone home, in the shelter of an olive tree.

She dipped oil from the large jar with a small bowl, and poured it over his shoulders and chest, then his back. It dripped, golden and warm, down his rock hard stomach, into his scant pubic hair, and down the crack of his ass. Ana then began to scrape his body with the shaped scraper, not too firm, but not gently, either. With the oil, came the filth of his day. Once complete, she then used the bowl to dip rain water (it did rain in this oasis so close to the Nile) and again, poured it over his body.

Now on her knees in front of him, she used a small towel to dry his cock and balls. She lifted his limp (but still impressively large) cock in her hand, and sucked him into her mouth. He sighed as he felt her tongue glide over his glans as she pulled his foreskin back with her hand. She sucked him until he was fully erect, and then continued, reaching her one hand around to his ass, the other caressing his balls. He grasped the branch of the tree above him to steady himself, for his knees were weak. He was getting closer, so close, and then she paused.

It was her game, to keep him on this edge, to build his climax until he moaned, until he commanded her to swallow him to orgasm. She began again, this time snaking her hand between his still oiled ass cheeks, and began to finger him, shallowly at first, but then deeper, until she began to stroke the place inside that made him as hard as the stones he cut. He began to thrust his hips in time with her sucking, and commanded her to swallow his cum. Ana, with her finger deep inside him, withdrew his cock from her mouth, and continued to stroke his full length as she opened her mouth wide. She flicked her tongue along the underside of his glans….and he came….and she drank him with blissful thirst.

When he recovered from this sweet and painful memory, he realized he had been asleep with this dream, and dusk was upon the desert. Still, there was no life seen at the cave.

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Hmmmm, I am very curious as to where this is going to lead. I absolutely LOVE the historical accuracy here, you are surely taking a lot of time to painstakingly offer each portion - thanks for your diligence here! I also love the mixture of romantic and lust - very lovely combo.

I love the naughty aspect of Ana snaking her finger into him....so taboo! Makes the dichotomy of their relationship very interesting.

I am not sure about LadyLove's 'seat' but mine is definitely quite moist....

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I am captivated.

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As soon as the sun set, he thought he saw a flicker of firelight inside the cave. Soon after, he noticed a wisp of smoke escaping from the rocks above. He rose from the desert floor, and strode confidently to the mouth of the cave. ‘I am here, to seek the great power promised to be at this place.’ he stated in a voice only a bit louder than normal conversation. ‘Then come’ a feminine voice stated just two beats later. Now with added curiosity to his cause, he carefully made his way into the cave, picking through various size rocks and boulders on the ground. Perhaps the man of power had a woman with him, he thought, as he continued to move towards the flickering light further on.

He arrived in a large chamber just as what seemed to be hundreds of bats flew frantically above his head, exiting by way of his arrival. When his vision cleared (he had not been startled, for he was beyond such minor trepidations) he saw the source of the fire, and a golden haired woman sitting upon a smooth rock near it. He had heard of such people with golden hair, but had never seen one. “Why are you hear?’ she spoke with an even and low tone that rang of an accent; clearly not from anywhere on the Nile, he thought.

‘I came to see the man that is said to have great power; where is he?’ he said with his usual authority. ‘I am he’, she replied. Just as he was about to demand clarification, this woman somehow shifted and in her place stood a man, as powerful as he, and every inch an Egyptian. Now, he was shaken, but did not panic. Instead, he repeated his question. The man did not answer, so he then swallowed hard and said: ‘What power is this that you can one moment be a woman, then another moment a man?’

The woman-man laughed, but the voice he heard was that of the woman. ‘A power that allows me to appear as I will…’ In that moment, the man shifted back to the woman with golden hair (and a remarkably perfect body, he noted in his confusion). Just as he was about to press about which reality to believe, she said, ‘This is my true form. It is useful to appear to others as male, as well as other things of this world.’ He was, for perhaps for only the second time in his life, at a loss for words.

“Sit by the fire with me, and make your request of revenge’, she said. As he sat near the fire, he returned: ‘How is it that you know this?’ She looked rather sad at his words, and said, ‘It is on your face, it is in your body, it reeks in the sweat of your body.’ Encouraged, he told his tale of woe and pain; the story of the loss of his Ana. As he told the story, his head began to swim, not only with emotions, but with strange thoughts and images of places that were not of his place (or time). He felt as if drunk, but not drunk, like a daydream along with being drunk.

When he finished his story, he looked at the woman with golden hair and saw that she had changed once again, but this time, she was even more of a woman (and a beautiful one, at that). She stood and walked toward him, stopping just arm’s length before him, his eyes even with her crotch. He could clearly see the outline of her mons through her clothes.

She whispered, (in a voice he heard both with his ears and inside of his head), “You wish this to be so? You have not been compelled, or are under threat of any sort?” “I desire the power you offer” he whispered back, without even moving his lips. This woman dropped her gown, revealing skin as light and pale as her golden hair. His gaze drifted from her hair to her eyes, to her breasts (tipped with the pinkest and fullest nipples he had yet seen) to the sharp angles of her pelvic bones, and, to his astonishment, a hairless cleft where he expected to see more golden hair.

‘And so you shall have your power’ she smiled as she began to undress him with a slow sensuousness that reminded him of Ana. His heart stirred with guilt, but then, Ana was gone, he reminded himself, and it had been so long since he had cum. His body reacted to this woman’s touch across his skin; her fingers felt as cold as stone in the middle of the night, yet they aroused in him an animal passion he barely recognized. He hungered for the fucking, the mindless, brutish, forceful fucking that he felt was near at hand.

She pinched his left nipple hard with one hand, and with the other raked his back with her sharp nails. He almost cried out then, but instead returned the action with his own trail of nail marks on her back, and sharp slap of his hand on her finely rounded ass. She muttered: 'How long I have waited for one as you!' She pushed him, hard, swinging one leg behind him and tripping him. He fell to a large pile of furs he had not noticed before, many of which seemed to be from animals he had never seen. They were so soft, he felt no rock beneath him, Then she was upon him, covering his body with hers, writhing sinuously like a snake, her hard flat belly against his. Just as he was about to turn her with intention to mount her, she rose on perfectly muscled thighs and calves and spun around, her back to him, as she straddled his cock.

This being new to him (and his head swimming strangely), he paused. She rose up and he could see her pussy, wet, swollen, and her anus. She dipped her hips low, and he felt her wetness like ice water on him. He started, and she looked over her shoulder, smiling a delightfully decadent smile of lust. He could feel her in his head, convincing him of her heat and warmth, as she plunged perfectly, enclosing his cock. He nearly screamed with the pleasure of it, and at once began to thrust madly, holding her hips and watching her ass contract and flex as his cock slid effortlessly in, then out, full length.

He began to slap her ass with one open hand, and slid his thumb into her ass. At this, she began to moan, then growl, and he rejoined with his own grunts and shouts of nonsense words. His body was fevered, slick with sweat, while hers remained cool and dry (not that this was noticed by him until far, far later). She was now riding him, arching her back, greedy for his cock, and clenching down hard on his thumb. In one final thrust against each other, they came in unison.

His breath was ragged, and he must have had a wandering moment in his mind, for when he opened his eyes, she was now facing him, her pussy still wet, warm, and slick against his cock and balls. As he looked up at her, he saw her now darkly, with some other kind of lust across her face. He lay weak as she drew her face closer to his, and he saw with only mild concern that her teeth looked like those of a jackal. As she began to nuzzle at his neck, he felt a sudden, full body chill. Only a moment later, the bite at his throat, and he came again, this time tenfold in intensity of the fucking he had just taken. He wondered, for a moment, before he knew no more, if this meant his death, and if he would be reunited with Ana.

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Sir, I am on my knees, begging forgiveness. Please, Sir, forgive me for not seeing this post. I am not quite sure how it happened, but I did not see this wonderful, amazing, compelling masterpiece of literary prowess! I am aghast by your ability to bring these character to life (even in death) and am amazed at the astute manner in which you capture the subtle details of their deficiencies.

Also, Sir, if I may, I found myself becomming aroused while reading this exerpt, I hope that this is pleasing and does not offend thee.

Sir, while I am on my knees, is there anything I can do to atone?

The humblest of apologies,

Mika

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Until the other two slaves check in (MsLayD and Mikayla), there will not be another chapter. I do not tolerate neglect!

Please Sir, I kindly respect your needs, But your lovely MsLayD has much to do and doesn't seem to be able to attend on a daily basis. Her inattentiveness is not meant to neglect you in any way. It is the rest of us that will serve and pick up the pieces in her absence. So please sir I beg you for more.

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LOL I could get used to this! ;) Thanks for flattering an old man. I'll try to get the next chapter up this weekend.

I am humbled by your generosity. Thank you.

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I am humbled by your generosity. Thank you.

got 'em going pretty good, Hy. Matter of fact, got my attention, too!

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When he awoke, he felt odd and disoriented, as if he had too much wine, but also strangely energized. He was surprised to be alive. (He did not know, of course at that point how close to death he had been, nor the facts of what he had become). The woman of power was nowhere to be seen in the very dim light of the once blazing fire. It was now just a pile of charred wood. Wood, in the desert, he mused briefly before he noticed that it was dark outside. He must have been out for a whole day.

He rose, nude, and felt a chill that went to his bones. As he dressed, he had images in his head that he could not explain, as if he could hear and see things that were far away, and things long forgotten in his memory. And a strange hunger-thirst that he could not identify. He stumbled to the opening of the cave, and looked out into the cold night and starry sky.

A clear and precise image then arrived to him: the man who had taken his Ana (in more than one way, he now knew in horrifying detail) was sitting on a pile of camel hair pillows in front of a feasting table, with several other people about. An intense urge came upon him that was a mix of rage, sorrow, and the need to run. Which he did, out into the desert, back in the direction he had come. Faster, and with no apparent increase of effort he ran, a wonderment to him, as he had always been a fine physical specimen, but this speed was nearly as quick as a charging stallion.

As he ran, images, memories, thoughts (and thoughts of others) rushed through his mind. He had a series of thoughts that were Ana‘s, because he could feel what she had felt when he first entered her on the night she gifted him with her virginity. He could feel her relief at his gentleness, his kindness, and the joy she felt of having been filled by him. He could sense her increasing pleasure as he gained confidence and began to assert his dominance with her; the pleasure she gained from her submission. He now knew, that it was that submission that produced the intense pleasure Ana felt when she would cum and a great flow of warm liquid would flow from her soft inner places.

He was now going impossibly fast, flying was the word that he sensed. And then he was there, at the door of the man who violated his woman. In one fluid move, he kicked the door and was inside, the surprise on the killer’s face was only momentary as the man tried to draw his dagger. But he was upon the man with a power and speed that lifted his heart with the dark joy of revenge. Still dazed and confused with this new power, he heard the screams of the women and the shouts of the men present when he ripped the man’s throat out in one vicious bite…and the blood began to satisfy his hunger-thirst. He fed until he was sated, and the man was dead.

For centuries he wandered the earth, following the hunger-thirst. At first quite randomly in his need, then selectively (those of the world that the world was better off without). This is the period when he met Anton. Apparently, Anton was of the same opinion about Kings, corrupt leaders, and jackasses that held worldly power and abused it. A certain religious leader with secular power who preyed on young boys caught both of their attention. They arrived in the bishop’s chambers roughly at the same time, he under the guise of paying an honorarium to the bishop for political favors, and Anton, amusingly enough, acting as if he were homosexual prince in search of an older lover. They shared the kill together.

He and Anton stayed in touch through the centuries, sometimes by chance,and sometimes by design. They both gained greater power with experience, and came to a kind of self discipline over the hunger for human blood. Many had come to both he and Anton asking for the power. Anton, in his opinion, satisfied this far too often. He, on the other hand, was far more selective. He supplemented his need for many decades by developing keen skills on breaking and entering (and leaving no trace of this) into medical blood collection places once the technology became available. Anton was insufferable in teasing him about this. But then, he considered his former character to be far more sophisticated than Anton’s. A couple of thousand years helps to practice such development.

Instead, he began the exploration of other passions and hungers. The passion he felt in Ana’s arms was most haunting to him, and so he began a quest and passion for women (some seeking the power, some not) and sex that held his attention for quite some time. The thirst-hunger and sex were closely tied: one could spark the other, as well as become a substitute for the other in the adequately self disciplined.

All of this was present in his memory, in active recall, as he sped through the night, taking his hand from the gearshift and now placing it on the very firm thigh of sweetness. He was altogether sad, relieved, resigned, and excited for what was to come.

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Oh no Sir, you have a duty to continue. You absolutely must continue, I implore you to continue to tantalize me (and others) with your thoughts and words. I am literally beholden to you to continue your tale. What can I do to seduce you to continue? I am on my knees, Sir....

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