Tales From The Lions Den Pt 02

The Lion's Den is a travelling circus, a carnival with a very adult playlist on an endless tour of a world reeling from a disastrous war that has thrown civilisation back to a new dark age. The Den is currently camped near Austin in what used to be Texas, USA. and Zara, the owner and absolute dictator of the Den, has asked for help from the New Texas Star Rangers to find an enemy spy. Rangers Sweetwater, Dare and Marie are undercover in disguise as one of the acts to check things out while their partner, Quin, keeps a low profile in the shadows as back up.

Tales from the Lion's den – a sting in the tail, part 2.

'Shit...' Sweetwater felt her jaw drop under her mask, they'd come in the back way, through the performers entrance and this was the first time she'd seen the inside of the main tent. And even though she'd known what sort of shows were happening here, her imagination hadn't pictured anything quite like this. It was something else.

Marie patted her shoulder, the laughter in her voice muffled slightly by her own carnival mask, 'well at least it's a change from all the fighting and killing.'

Dare's chuckle rumbled behind her, his painted nakedness a sweet, hot temptation. She shivered, awareness of him, of what they were going to do rippling down her spine like fire, clouding her mind and making it hard to focus on the mission. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Shit. They were here to find an enemy spy, someone who wanted to keep the war going, who threatened the fragile peace they'd all worked so hard to win and who was using the Den as a cover. Her breath hitched in her throat, maybe going underground hadn't been such a good idea although there hadn't really been any other option. Especially for two of the best known faces in Austin. Being celebrated war heroes was an honour but a mixed blessing at times and they couldn't walk the streets without being recognised by someone.

Dare noticed her tension, of course he did. One of his big hands swung up to grip her shoulder, a steadying weight that brought her back to herself, his voice low and oh so welcome in her ear. 'It's just another mission Sweet, we'll be back in uniform in a couple of days.'

Sweetwater reached up, her fingers sliding through his for a moment. Then she let go and looked around, eyes flaring wide as they got further in. The tent was huge, the thick support beams arching above them like the ceiling of some pagan cathedral, dust motes and wisps of smoke hanging high above them in the filtered last rays of sunlight coming through the vents at the top. She was amazed at the number of people, even this early in the evening there were plenty of folks from town wandering around or clustered in front of the different performance spaces. The performances were happening in curtain-hung partitions spaced around the outside of the tent like the segments of a huge orange. And in each of the lamp or candlelit segments on beds, chairs and things she didn't even have names for, naked and nearly naked people were doing things to each other that set her heart pumping and made her so wet she had to fight to keep from touching herself to ease the itch.

She was far from innocent, at least she'd thought so. But this was decadence on a scale she'd never seen before, never even imagined.

There was music, thready, sultry, something by a pre-war, late last century rock and roll band, and in the centre of the big space, on a kind of rotating podium, a beautiful woman with long, blond hair in torn and faded dusty cream lace lingerie and sky high heels turned the crank of a ancient phonograph, dancing a slow, writhing shimmy as she did, a hazy smile curving crimson painted lips, her eyes closed to slits...

Sweetwater stared. The woman seemed to breathe sensuality, to be totally engrossed in her dance, the music, totally unaware of her audience or anything else.

There were other sounds too, sliding and bursting through the music in jazz like improvisation. Strangled gasps, cries, panting breaths and the slap of hand, leather or wood on flesh, of flesh on flesh, flesh in flesh that joined a heavy, erotic scent of sweat, the tickle of perfume, of heavy, drugged smoke and the combined juices of men and women. Anticipation and lust seemed to hang in the air, making it heavy, thick...

Sweetwater felt blood rush to her face, the breath catch in her throat and her belly clench as she watched, there was sex everywhere, every kind of sex. She puffed out a breath, and even though she'd been having lots of sex herself over the last few days since Dare got back from his last mission, it was suddenly all she could think about, all she wanted. She felt him come up closer behind her, felt his arms slide round her waist, his lips close to her ear, and she knew he'd noticed, knew how she felt, what effect all this was having on her.

His voice was quiet, calm, but with an underlying tension that slid straight to her belly and down to her clit. She tensed her thighs, squeezing her pussy between them, but it didn't help.

His lips tickled her ear, his breath warm on her skin, making her shiver. 'Relax, Sweet. Breathe... You're just reacting to the advertising and I'm pretty sure there's enough weed and other stuff floating in the air in here to knock out a horse, let alone the rest of us.' He dropped a kiss on her neck, making her shiver, 'all we have to do is keep our eyes open and get the job done. Then we can go do whatever we want.'

She turned hot, hungry eyes up to his, knowing he was feeling it too, wanting her too.

He groaned, 'it's not helping when you look at me like that,' and behind his mask his eyes ignited into the brilliant, fascinating, amazing blue they went when they were making love, his arms tightening around her, his body tense, his cock, hard, rigid, thick against her hip.

She gazed into those eyes, in a way relieved that he was reacting too, that she wasn't being a total idiot. She took a deep, deep breath, determined to be professional, trying not to see too much, not to look too hard into the shadows. 'Let's go get it done then...' She stepped forward, Dare staying close and Marie walking next to him, holding the leash that was clipped to the slave ring around his neck.

'So what're we looking for exactly?' Marie's voice was low, meant to reach them but no one else.

Dare used a finger to point ahead of them, 'see the woman with Quin?'

Sweetwater huffed, 'yeah, she's a bit hard to miss.'

He laughed. 'She's the one who called us in. We need to talk to her.'

The fourth member of their squad was a little way away across the tent, talking to a very tall, very slim coffee skinned woman in a long, black dress. Quin was the shorter of the two, but he made up for it in muscle and sheer presence, his shoulders and broad chest straining the leather of his duster, his dark, angular and beautiful face lit by the lamps above him as he talked.

Marie sighed, 'I wish my honey was in the act too.' She glanced up at Dare then back to Sweetwater, 'no offence.'

Dare chuckled, 'none taken, I wish he was too, but one of us had to be back up and he won the toss so here I am.'

Quin looked around, found them, his midnight eyes widening for a moment at Dare's costume, then his head moved in a tiny nod to Sweetwater before his gaze raked over Marie, the heat in them sizzling the air.

Marie's fingers rippled in a discreet wave and a tiny smile curved Quin's mouth. One eye closed in a fast wink as he turned back to continue his conversation.

They kept walking towards Quin and the woman. Dare gently manoeuvring Sweetwater in front of him as they walked, the hard bulge pressing against the top of her hip a reminder why he was keeping her there although she didn't think that something as simple as a hard-on would even rate a second glance in this place.

She wriggled a little, hip brushing his cock, laughing low in her throat as she felt him take a sharp breath in.

One of his hands gripped her shoulder, the other sliding down to her ass, his fingers spreading over and squeezing the soft globes as they bunched and relaxed with each stride, his lips and teeth grazing the side of her neck then sweeping up so he could run his tongue around the rim of her ear. 'You'll pay for that later, Sweet.'

She laughed, the sound rippling down her spine and excitement pooling between her legs and she leaned her head back so he could reach her throat with his lips, 'promise?'

He chuckled...

The tall woman with Quin turned towards them, watching as they got closer, her kohl rimmed eyes narrowed, intent, calculating. She was stunning, with long, dark, cornrowed and beaded hair that hung heavy to her waist and thick gold armbands that circled toned biceps and struck sparks off metallic tattooed swirls that swept along each forearm. Her eyes roamed over Sweetwater and Marie then settled on Dare, her lips curving into a slightly predatory smile as the cigarette held in one long fingered hand sent little smoke rings climbing slowing into the air.

She patted Quin on the arm in goodbye and dismissal then started walking towards them, arms open wide. Her voice was deep and sweet as honey and definitely not female and her eyes were all over Dare. 'I'm Zara and Bjorn did a fantastic job on you, I love it...'

Sweetwater felt her instincts kick into fight mode as the woman who was actually a man dressed as a woman and very, very beautiful, swayed on high, high heels across the canvas floor towards them, his/her tall presence almost overwhelming up close. Because all she could see was the lust in Zara's dark eyes, lust for Dare, her Dare. She stood up very straight and felt her lips curve into a predatory smile of her own. 'Yeah, he's very good at his job, now we need to get on with ours. So what are we looking for?'

Dare's laughter rumbled through her back.

Zara came to a halt in front of them, pouting. 'So impatient...' Then she smiled, including all of them although her eyes lingered on Dare. 'But I'm glad you're here of course, maybe you could come back later? When you're off duty?' A long finger traced the muscles of Dare's arm in the air, 'I can promise you a good time.'

Sweetwater stepped forwards, 'maybe we will, but we need to find your spy first, so what are we looking for?'

Zara sighed then took a drag of her cigarette. 'Most of my actors and crew are regulars, but every now and then we take on newbies,' she shrugged, 'Rousabouts mostly, sometimes new acts, Carnies can be unreliable sometimes, goes with the territory.' Another puff of smoke wafted upwards, 'anyway, a few stops back we met up with a troop of ex militia and about half a dozen of them joined us as rousabouts. Then there were some girls and guys from a whorehouse that had been closed down in a town near the Mexico border, they're all still with us.' She frowned, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it. 'They all seemed ok, worked hard, didn't make trouble... But then I started hearing stories on the grapevine. Things happening in towns we'd just been through, people disappearing, army and police killed, politicians blackmailed, stuff like that.' She looked at Sweetwater, her eyes serious this time, 'I started wondering, so I contacted you.'

Marie spoke up, 'so I guess you've organised things so we can meet these guys?'

Zara nodded, 'It might take a few days, but I move the acts around so each show's a little different, you know?' She lit up another cigarette and took a long drag, 'I'll make sure you're next to a new group each time, and after we finish up each night there's supper, all the roustabouts will be there.' She tipped her head back to where Quin had been, 'your friend is going to be hanging around as extra security, so he'll have a reason to be there too.'

Dare leaned forwards. 'Ok then, lets get started.'

She grinned, licking her lips. 'So eager... I can't wait to see the three of you in action.' She turned and waved an elegant hand, 'follow me.'

Sweetwater felt her heart pound faster, her clit pulse in time. Shit. She looked up at Dare, met his eyes, fell into swimming blue pools that she wanted to drown in and felt his arms hard around her. He was her rock and she was his in a world that was unpredictable and violent and this was just another mission. Yeah right.

While they'd been talking, it had got dark and the tent was now fully lit by lamps, hundreds of them, hanging from the ceiling, strung from ropes, suspended from the posts that marked the edges of the segments, and the shadows were deep, multi coloured, flickering and mysterious. There were more people inside too, strolling around, watching what was happening in the cubicles, couples, small groups, singles, and the sound of more voices, the buzz of conversation joined the moans and the other sounds.

Most of the watchers were well dressed, many wearing jewelled masks and cloaks although some, both men and women, weren't wearing anything, their masks painted on and their hair dressed in wild and exotic shapes and colours, and many had tattoos, their skins rippling with decorative colour and line.

They walked past the phonograph and the music again and Sweetwater stared at the two beautiful naked women dancing, twining and swaying together on a low polished wooden platform set near it.

The crank was being turned now by a young, blond man in a black skin tight sheer body stocking, every golden line of his muscular form outlined in shadowy definition, his cock and balls hanging heavy and loose between his legs, startlingly pale against the black, his shaft thickening, growing as he watched the dancers.

She turned back to the women and watched, fascinated, as a slim, dark hand caressed a pale, rounded ass cheek and pale fingers shone against a dusky breast as the women kissed, their bodies pressed close, their sighs and moans rising above the sound of the music, becoming part of it, all three performers, the two women and the man completely oblivious to their half circle of avid watchers.

The air seemed to be getting hotter, heavy, and she flipped her mask up to get some air and felt Dare lifting the heavy wig hair from her shoulders.

She turned towards him, her whole body buzzing...

He looked down at her, his hands gentle but heavy on her shoulders as they followed Zara. He stroked them down over her arms to take her hands, his eyes that glittering, gleaming blue that she loved so much, his face almost impossibly beautiful in the mask, the shape of it smoothly accentuating classical cheekbones, a strong chin, golden beard, straight nose.

She gazed up at him for what seemed like the longest time, letting him guide them forwards. Everything felt surreal, strange, as though anything could happen, anything at all.

Then he held out an arm and she put hers through it, the inked patterns on his arms holding her gaze this time, the muscles rippling the patterns until they seemed alive.

'Are you ok, Sweet?'

She nodded, feeling safe, hidden behind her mask.

They reached the first cubicle and paused, the circle of watchers moving aside, making room for Zara and the three of them.

The shadowed space held a wide bed and at first all Sweetwater could see were writhing shapes, then everything came into focus as her eyes adjusted and she sucked in a little breath, leaning back against Dare, feeling his heart beating fast, the muscles of his thighs flex, his cock shifting against her hip, restless.

A man was lying in the bed, his hands and feet tied to the corners with soft ropes. A woman crouched, kneeling over his face, her back to the audience and her hands braced against the headboard while he worked her pussy with his mouth, her hips and thighs and rounded ass thrusting and gliding in slow, languid movements that got faster as they watched, her head lolling back, eyes hazy and mouth open slightly, crimson painted lips full and moist, her thick black hair flowing down her writhing back like a dark river.

Another woman was there too, straddling the man's body but facing the audience, her forearms resting on the muscular legs, hands gripping the straining calves, a red scarf tied around her eyes and her lips stretched around the man's thick cock. Her mouth slid up and down, up and down, the veined, pink shaft glistening more each time it came into view, it's nest of dark curls glittering with drops of spit.

It was like a dream...

Somewhere she heard Marie gasp.

Sweetwater let her head fall back onto Dare's shoulder, feeling dizzy, her blood singing round her body, his solid strength real, necessary.

He leaned down and kissed the skin over her collarbone, little sucking kisses, his tongue leaving a little trail behind, then he drew back and blew gently 'It's ok, Sweet, everything's ok.'

She shivered, pleasure rippling down her spine and looked up, meeting eyes heavy and deep with a searing need and she felt wet, molten excitement, knowing that he was hers. For how long she didn't know, did anyone? But here, now, he was hers.

They walked on, one of Dare's hands at the small of her back, spreading round her waist, his fingers hard, possessive, his eyes scanning the crowd, the hard, gleaming blue a proprietary warning under the mask.

Zara turned and smiled, her eyes lazy but alert, 'these next two are new.'

In the next cubicle, a man dressed in a pre-war business suit was sitting on a chair side on to them, a woman lying face down on his lap, arms down, quiet, quiescent, facing away from the audience, her full skirt bunched up around her waist and her ass cheeks bare and stained pink above long, white lace stockings.

The man brought his right hand down in a fast, hard slap on one full cheek then the other, leaving the fleshy globes shuddering and a gasp rising like a wisp from the woman's unseen mouth. He did it again and again, the woman's ass cheeks trembling and red fingerprints clear on the pale skin.

The woman's legs parted as she tried to keep from struggling, exposing a plump, bare, glistening slit and quivering pucker above it.

The man smiled, his fingers caressing now, fondling and sliding inside her wet folds, his thumb circling the winking anus, dipping inside.

Sweetwater sucked in a breath, ready to say something, except she couldn't quite think what. She swallowed, chewing her lip, her own fingers sliding down over her belly towards her aching to be touched pussy. She stopped it with a groan of frustration.

Dare chuckled behind her and leaned forwards, his cock a thick ridge on her thigh and his voice a hot whisper in her ear. 'Hope later comes soon...'

She reached back and squeezed, gently, 'Yeah.'

Zara laughed, lighting another cigarette, 'they're good aren't they? I hope it isn't them.'

Marie was looking remote and very calm, doing her zen thing, but Sweetwater could see her tension in the way she walked. It was comforting really.

They moved on.

Sweetwater was aware of other people moving around them, of whispered conversations, muted laughter, sometimes even applause but no one made eye contact with her, or spoke to any of them, not deliberately. Their status as costumed acts seemed to let them move in a bubble, like there was some unspoken understanding, some sort of agreement about behaviour in the tent. Whatever it was, all around there was a breathless waiting, anticipation, a brimming sensuality...

She felt heavy with arousal, heavy with desire, her breasts ached, her pussy so full and soft, her clit so swollen she thought that one touch would send her soaring. it was almost too much, too much of everything.

Dare leaned close, 'are you ok?'

She looked up at him and licked her lips, her eyes huge, shadowy blue grey in the lamplight, 'Yeah, want you so bad though...'

His eyes sparked behind the mask, and his hand tightened on her waist, the fingers spreading out, hot, hard and possessive. A smile curved his lips as he nodded. 'we do one performance, then I'm going to fuck you till neither of us can move, ok?'