Posted by Moore on April 05, 2004 at 17:18:17:
The author would like to gratefully acknowledge the contributions of Diana B. for fifteen more minutes and promises kept.
Sardana and Diana talked for a bit before their morning romp. Diana then went to tell the mercenaries guards that there would be some noise from their room, even some things breaking, and the guards need not be alarmed. A shapely assassin crept back into the room, wearing a tight leather outfit, with a dagger in hand.
Sardana is in the bathtub taking a bath. The assassin rushes in; her dagger ready to strike. He throws the washcloth at her face, and her instinct to flinch out of the way gives him the chance to raise his arm to block her attack. He pulls his feet up , and kicks her lightly in the stomach as she is bent over him in the tub.
"Oomph!" she grunts, and staggers back.
Sardana gets up and out of the tub. She throws a kick at his naked crotch, but he manages to catch her foot. Using her momentum, he pulls her closer, but redirects her to the side. He dances around with her for a while, holding her leg under the knee. She hits him with her hand. He drops her on her side, spinning her. He tries to grab her, but she continues to roll all the way to the wall, and then stands up.
He rushes at her. She hits his chest, but doesn't get very much force behind the blow. Her arm doesn't get full extension because he is so close. She fails to bring her knee up into his bare genitals as he presses himself against her. He grabs her hand holding the knife. The assassin sinks her nails into his shoulder with her other hand. He presses against her soft body at the pain.
He tears her hand off his shoulder, and bangs both her hands against the wall next to her head. She drops the knife.
They glare at each other. She rubs her leg up his hard thigh as a peace offering. Sardana cautiously kisses her. She turns her face from his kiss; he only catches the corner of her sweet mouth. But she lifts her leg around him again, giving him access to her.
The assassin realizes she is no match for him in a fair fight. She starts sexing him. She lures him into her, sacrificing herself sexually to buy more time to escape. She matches his rhythm, rising on her tip toes to be at the right height for him. She tightens and contracts herself around him; the pleasure of which causes him to shut his eyes.
Sardana foolishly thinks more of playing with her then keeping control of her. The assassin brings her leg up and in-between them, planting her foot on his hip. She pushes him off her, using the wall for leverage. ( Diana does hold on to his hands so he doesn't get hurt falling backward.) His penis throbs unsatisfied after being ripped out of her warm vagina.
Now he is really angry. He stomps over to her, his erect manhood pointing accusingly. She swings a kick at him, but he slaps it away. He grabs her as she charges him, hip rolling her on to the bed in a bouncing heap of arms and legs.
She lands face down. He straddles her, and brings her hands roughly behind her back, making her yelp in pain. Sardana wraps her arms together in the bed sheet despite her kicks and struggles.
He digs his fingers into her hair, and shoves her face into the bed. Holding her head still with one hand, he pulls her hips up to accommodate him with the other. She struggles, but he is not in the mood to spare her. Sardana takes her, driving into her with one intense thrust.
His civilized nature forgotten, Sardana ruts the assassin, his only thought his own satisfaction. He thrusts until his needs are met, then releases her.
When his senses return to him, he finds Diana grinning up at him from underneath. "Nice," she purrs, "Very nice." He gives her a nod, a bit embarrassed by the intensity of his need for her.
"Now what are you going to do with me?" she asks.
"I am too tired to kill you now, and I have to go to work soon. I am going to tie you up, and save you for latter."
Her eyes gleamed with excitement, and she failed to hide her smile. "You wouldn't! Let me go," she protested in mock anger. But could not hide her anticipation.
Diana, as the assassin, spent the day tied in the bedroom. Sardana used thick, stiff leather binds on her wrists, cinching them snug. Then he used rope to tie her hands behind her back, using the loops in the binds. He wrapped more rope through the loops, then around her waist so she couldn't move her bound hands off of the small of her back. He put a another set of leather binds on her ankles, and similarly tied them together. He looped a rope around her neck and tied that to her ankle binds so her ankles were near her ass, and she couldn't slip the binds off. He was quite pleased with the result. The assassin could wiggle and squirm sexily in her bonds, but the leather binds did not cut off her circulation, nor was the loop around her neck tight enough to strangle her.
He didn't come for her until dinner time. Truthfully, Sardana was not trying to be cruel. He got distracted with all of the business he was doing, and completely forgot Diana was bound on the floor.
==================
After a much needed bathroom break, they resume their play.
He strips off her small leather outfit. He reties her hands together with her binds. Then he stands her up and ties her wrists over her head to a convenient pipe. The pipe provides water to the tub from the cistern on the roof.
She glares at him. "Let me go or I will scream. When people come I will tell them you kidnapped me," she says, her eyes filling with tears and looking scared. Her expression changed back to hostile quickly; she is quite a good actress.
Sardana looks down her shoulders, her chest, her hips, down to her shapely legs. She is struggling against her restraints. Sardana appreciates the look of her long, lean body. "I can't have you scream," he says finally.
He reaches his hands up, stepping close to her. He put his hands (loosely) around her neck.
She blinks and looks surprised. She coughs, then gurgles.
She starts begging, desperate to do anything he wants to prolong her life. She grabs onto the ropes, taking the pressure off her wrists as she raises her legs and wraps them around him.
Sardana leaves one hand on her throat, and hoists her ass up with the other. He rubs her against him, lining things up. She pulls him into her. Her heels dig into his buttocks as she squeezes him deeper into her.
He puts his hands back (loosely) around her neck. She gurgles, and writhes, and arches up and down on him intensely. She rubs her breasts against him, inviting him to put his hands on them instead of her neck.
He looks at her pain filled face. She isn't breathing, and her chest is starting to heave. Her eyes dart from side to side as she looks for a way to escape. She fixes her eyes on his when she realizes there is no way out for her this time.
Up and down she pumps, clinging to him. Then she starts slowing down. Her eyes stop looking at his, and her legs start sliding down. Her body jerks uncoordinatedly, frustrating him more then pleasing him.
"Oh, you bitch," he curses. Sardana releases her neck. She takes a deep, rasping breath as he puts both hands on her ass and pulls her knees around him again.
Holding her up, he drives into her, pushing into her and gouging her butt cheeks with his hands as he pulls her to him.
A few more strokes and he gets pleased.
He kisses her deeply. "How are your wrists?" he asks.
"I will have rope burns, but nothing I don't mind. You really liked that, didn't you?"
"Yep," he answered lazily running his hands down her back. "I will happily kill you anytime. Ready for dinner?"
After dinner, and a few hours of cuddling, Diana somehow managed to convince Sardana not to kill the assassin, not yet anyway, and to leave her tied up all night.
=================
Sardana kept the assassin prisoner for several days. He even made her accompany him to his office and kneel on his desk when he had paperwork to do. But one day when he had left her in the bedroom tied up, he was careless, and did not tighten her bonds enough. The assassin managed to get free, and rearmed herself with her dagger. She waited for Sardana to return, hiding by the door.
The assassin raises her dagger over her head to thrust it down into the head or back of her large opponent. But she makes the slightest of noises (Psst, Sardana), and he hears her. Spinning, he grabs her wrists with both of his hands before the dagger descends. She tries to bang into him and knock him back. His size and weight prevents her from moving him.
He steps to the side, swinging her arms out in a wide arc, bringing the dagger down to waist level. Grunting, they struggle for control of the dagger, locked in a dance of death.
She pushes her dagger slightly towards him; he pushes it back towards her. Their muscles tense and strain.
His greater strength begins to prevail despite the intensity of her struggles. He turns the assassin's dagger point to her. He aims the tip at her navel, despite her struggles. Sweating now from her efforts, the assassin yells "Nooo!"
Slowly, inexorably, he moves the dagger to her deep navel, and pushes it in. "ARRGGHH," screams the assassin. Her sharp dagger pushes through her stomach muscles, then plunges into her stomach like it were made of jelly.
"NO! OWWWW," the assassin screams as he pulls her dagger out, then pushes it in again.
The assassin clutches the wounds, and spits in his face.
She slumps to the ground, her legs sprawled open as the prize for the victor.
He looks at her for a moment as he catches his breath. She moans, rocks slightly, and holds her stomach. Sardana removes his clothing, and carefully gets the dagger.
"Oh no," she begs. "Don't stab me again. I will do whatever you want." She looks up at him with big, pleading eyes. Her legs open wider, promising pleasure if he listens to her.
"Anything I want?" he asks, warily.
"Yes, anything. Don't you want me," she asks, rubbing her chest, and licking her lips. "Haven't I fucked you good the past few days? The assassin blows him a kiss, inviting him over to her.
Sardana reclines next to her. He touches the wounds in her stomach, making her take in a hissing breath.
She reaches over and starts stroking his cock. "Why not keep me? You can keep me tied up." She gives him a smile, lightly stroking on the way down, gripping tighter on the return trip.
Sardana rolls on top of her. She whimpers as his stomach touches hers. He lowers himself on her, his throbbing penis finding easy entrance.
He puts his hands on the floor to support his weight. Her eyes widened when the dagger comes near her face. "Oh no," she squeals. "Please don't stab me." She writhes, and wiggles under him, moving her hips to convince him.
Sardana thinks for a moment, then pokes her in the shoulder with the dagger. "AAAhhhh," she screams, bucking her hips off the floor. "Stop!"
He pokes her with the dagger again, into her arms, chest, and side. Each time she screams and squirms, and increases the intensity of the sex as she tries to escape the stabs.
He puts the dagger to her throat when he is at the edge of his control. "NO," she screams. "Don't cut my GURRRACK." She trails off in a wet gurgle as he cuts her throat. The assassin clenches her lover tight, feeling him come inside of her, and holds him until he is utterly drained.
Sardana looks at Diana, but he can't think of anyway to tell her how happy he is with her. But Diana knows, and she holds Sardana to her.
Journal Entry ------------
We have left our accommodations at the Hôtel de la Poste et de la Perdrix to be closer to the center of Perpignan. We are now residing at the Hôtel de Ville, with its magnificent wrought-iron gates and Maillol's statue of La Mediterranee in the courtyard. I have purchased, quite cheaply, a building side by side next door in which to hold my office and conduct my business dealings.
My greatest success this week has been with Perpignan's drapers, tanneries, cloth makers, and the weavers or "blanquers." They are very highly skilled, and I have been able to get their well made products for very reasonable rates. In fact, I have purchased so much of their goods that I am looking into getting cargo space on the next ship bound for the capital. This is months ahead of my schedule. If I can sell the soft goods through my agent in the capital, and he sends me the goods I ask for that are needed here in Perpignan, I will make a considerable profit. Of course, both ships must make the trip successfully.
My building was given a new name at the end of this week thanks to Diana's cleverness. It is now being called Loge de Mer - House of the Sea. I had been talking to ship representatives to rent cargo space, as I have already mentioned, when they mentioned "burthen." Diana informed me that burthen is a term used to describe the measure of a ship's cargo capacity, based on the number of tuns of wine a hold could store, each tun being two hundred and fifty gallons. She has considerable sailing experience. The woman is a constant joy. The more I find out about her, the more delighted I am. She just happened to be spending the day in the office, but I will not say more about that.
We have enjoyed strolling around in the narrow streets of Perpignan this past week, between walls made of bricks and 'cayrous' (pebble stones), pushing the doors of courtyards and entering patios, and enjoying cool squares. For some lunches, we would meet at the church of Saint-Jacques (the starting point of the Procession de la Sanch, the Good Friday afternoon procession) and go to a charming little park called La Miranda surrounding the church.
The Blacksmith Pierre was issued a manufacturer's license with which to conduct his business. He is a skinny, mustached young man, and seemed offended that I am regulating commerce in the Province of Roussillon. I took a disliking to him, and I think the feeling is mutual.
The Vegetable Market has been issued a marketplace license. Although they were unable to pay with coins for the privilege, we worked out a deal by which they will pay me with certain produce every week. I will need these foodstuffs to feed the workers I plan to employ for road construction, well digging, and other projects. The various farmers' representatives, in contrast to Blacksmith Pierre, seemed delighted by my assistance. I listened to all sides, and then set fair prices, ending the underpricing that had robbed them of their profits, but I prevented them for charging outrageous amounts and gouging the common man.
The Brewer Rene was issued a trade license for her perishable goods. As is the custom, alcohol is much safer to drink then the foul river water. She did tell me an interesting tale though. The old Kingdom of Majorca made an aqueduct under what is now Perpignan. A wizard used magic to tunnel through the earth. When the Orcs took over, they were rumored to have extensively modified the passages into rooms and living areas, befitting a subterranean race. The lost treasure of the last Orcish Warlord is rumored to lie somewhere in the aqueduct. I asked Mercenary Captain Jean Baptiste Fourier about it, and he said the rumor might be true, but there was no glory in dying in a hole in the ground for cold coin. Perhaps I will sponsor a group of less fastidious adventures to attempt to recover the horde.
Three dignified ladies, the sisters Edith and Jane and their friend Joan, form an oligarchy of the blanquers. They wield considerable power amongst the laborers that I wish to do business with. I think I handled them very well. I did not want to offer them crude moneys or bully them into accepting me. I made them guild masters in the newly formed textile guild. They are responsible for the quality and prices of all textiles, and the admission of all of the persons who would produce textiles for sale. Although this is similar to what they do now, they have titles and official authority. They seemed enthusiastic, and have individually and jointly made me socks, shirts, and they are currently working on a lovely wall hanging I plan to display with pride in my office. Treating people fairly usually pays off.
But in Blacksmith Pierre's case, it has not. He stormed into my office, nearly provoking a lethal response from the always alert Cassin before I could restrain the good Sergeant. I had been receiving complaints about Blacksmith Pierre' shoddy work from several individuals all week. Metal hinges that failed under normal use, hoes that bent or broke, etc. Blacksmith Pierre's final offense was only including ninety five nails to a carpenter that paid for one hundred. Blacksmith Pierre became very angry when I asked him if he could count; now I see that I may have insulted him, but when I asked him I was only trying to see if he needed someone to help him count the correct number of nails. He stormed out. I may have to suspend his license if he will not meet with me and discuss the work standards expected of him.
SNIP - hundreds of others Sardana has done business with, licenses issued, coins or barter payment amounts, et al.
I have reinstated Market Day. This monthly event will showcase the rarer goods, and draw people from the outlying farms to Perpignan. It will give farmers as well as hunters and trappers chances to sell their goods. I discussed the matter with Lord High Chamberlain Ficelle; he seemed delighted. I asked Marshall Ibels about security, both at the town green (the site of the Market Day) and for the people traveling to and from the farms. Marshall Ibels told me everything could be arraigned, and seemed quite flattered and pleased when I told him I understood that his men would be working extra hours, and I would be happy to give Marshall Ibels compensation to distribute as he sees fit to his men to reward them for their extra efforts. I shall off set this expense by charging a small fee for each booth of anyone who wishes to sell goods. Three fourths of the booths have already been reserved by eager entrepreneurs.
Chancellor Voulzy came by to see me. He did make a useful suggestion about hiring entertainers and performers for Market Day, and charging a special fee for admittance. Mercenary Captain Jean Baptiste Fourier suggested a tournament with prizes. I will look into this.
We are preparing to travel to Port-Saint-Louis-du-Rhone and Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer in the next few days for trading. My only concern is that I haven't had too much time to spend with Diana with all of the preparations for the trip.
End of Journal Entry ------------