Note: While the eroticism of the story is self-contained, this story is the third of a series, and the readers are encouraged to read the first two parts in order to appreciate the characters and understand how they ended up in the specific situations in which they are. As always, your feedback would be greatly appreciated.
A small patch of sandy beach lay between the steep and rugged cliffs and the vast expanse of the sea. Gentle waves lapped against the shore, leaving delicate patterns in the sand before retreating back into the ocean. Jaber Zoltani stood barefooted with his wrists and feet still in chains. Fine grains of sand shifted and danced beneath his feet as he stood like a rock, feet apart, surrounded on both sides by prison guards.
Behind him the ancient coastal fortress loomed majestically atop weathered cliffs. Time had weathered its walls, leaving behind a mosaic of moss and lichen that added to its timeless allure. In front of him stood the princess, or "Queen Vicaria" in her long, silver-silk robe that clung to her curves in all the right places while it fought against the breeze. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, and even in chains, Jaber could not help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of this silver-haired enchantress, standing between land and sea. She stood like a vision of timeless elegance against the backdrop of the ever-changing tide.
"You are a man who enjoys looking ... at the possibilities in front of him so I brought you here," she said. "You have spent your life as a sea-bound fugitive, being chased from port to port. I now give you the chance to rule the seas. Fly my flag on your ship, enforce my blockade and you will not be a fugitive on my lands anymore."
"Your lands?" Jaber Zoltani spoke. "Your lands are not recognized as yours by anyone outside your palace. The great houses will side with your brother. Enforce a blockade and he will strike. As your lands shrink, so will my freedom. I have a better proposition. Allow me to sail away and I give you my words that I will not raid your ships. There are plenty of other vessels for me to board."
Vicaria stepped closer to him to look at him in the eyes and this time he avoided her gaze. There was something about this woman's eyes. "You are asking me to let a snake loose so that it may feed on rats and not bite my foot when I crush those same rats beneath my feet?' Vicaria said as she walked away from him towards the ocean but after covering a few steps she spun around with a sense of newly found urgency. "You are a pirate, and pirates only follow a leader they can best in a fair fight. So ... I will give you a fair fight." With those words, she started to tie her hair behind her head in a bun. "Guards, free him. Give him the wooden sword and then leave us."
Suddenly, Jaber found himself being unchained. A wooden sword was thrown to him that he caught with his quick reflexes. Another one was thrown at Vicaria and the way she caught it showed that this woman was no stranger to sword play. Jaber smiled as he watched with her hair tied tightly behind her head so as not to allow them to get in her way.
"If you win, you go free. But if I win, I own you," she said.
The wind was blowing strong now and the thin silk fabric molded itself to her gracefully muscular form. Jaber admired her strong legs. She had one of the most well developed calves he had seen on a woman and he noticed how light she was on her feet. There was a long slit that was cut in the side of her dress and he could not help but appreciate the muscular thigh that was visible through it. Vicaria was an embodiment of strong and yet gracefully feminine.
He was a master swordsman, confident in his abilities. But he wondered what was going on in Vicaria's mind to let go of her guards and take him on in this strange duel that was so unnecessary and uncalled for. He looked into her eyes to read her emotions but there were none. Just pure, blue intensity.
With a quick lunge from her, the duel began and their wooden swords met. She was definitely not the fastest sword hand he had faced, but so confident. He looked into her eyes to see where that confidence was coming from. All he saw was blue intensity staring back.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of strikes and counters and when he pulled away, with a feeling of self-doubt. There was no logical reason why she would challenge him unless she was sure to win. Could she have a trick up her sleeve that he did not know? This very thought expanded itself into consequences of a loss at the hands of this woman. Would he honor the terms of this duel and stay in her service if he lost? Or would he find ways of escaping? Then he shook that thought out of his mind.
Was she thinking the same thing? The only way for him to know was to look into her eyes and there was nothing in them but intensity and focus. The eyes convinced him that she was sure of her victory and that is why she had challenged him. Defying his thoughts, Jaber fought back and it was wood against wood again. Each time she parried his thrusts, he became convinced that her confidence was greater than his and somehow this was a fight he could not win.
Frustrated and angry he lunged forward but found himself to be too slow due to self=doubt. Vicaria side-stepped and brought her sword in a quick thrust towards his chest. He tried to step back in order to avoid the incoming attack but caught the tip of her wood on his arm.
"Blood!" she said. "If this was a real blade, you would be bleeding all over the sand pirate."
Jaber imagined it. Blood trickling down from his bicep to his forearms and finally finding its way into the sand. He saw himself bleed and the line between reality and imagination began to get blurry. The loss of blood was causing him to be weak and when he looked up at his opponent, her eyes were focused on him with the same assurance.
The exertion had caused Vicaria to sweat and he saw her statuesque body glistening under the sun. There was a look of confidence in her eyes like she knew she had killed him. With relentless determination she came at him, and Jaber met her attack with all that was left in him. "I am going to die on this sand," a thought came into his mind. "Of all the men that I have beaten, and the blood that I have shed, it is this woman who will put a blade through me. While blocking her thrusts and parrying her attacks he studied her calves and her thighs and the width of her hips. Then his mind went to the gentle swell of her breasts under the silk and then her toned arms and shoulders, chiseled like she was a stone statue brought to life.
Moving with heavy feet and breathing heavily, the pirate looked at her as she circled around him like a tigress circling a wounded animal. In a final leap of desperation, Jaber moved towards her with staggering feet and she stepped aside causing him to fall to his knees with his own momentum.
An exhausted and beaten Jaber Zoltani was crawling on the sand while the woman walked behind him casually like he was her dog. "Yield to me. Had these been real blades you would be dead," she said. Her words caused him to realize that there was no blood, no wound, not even a real blade. It was a mind trick. He crawled on his fours in the damp sand trying to separate his thoughts from his delusions. "I am your queen, and the more you satisfy me, the happier you will feel," her voice echoed in his ears. Now that he was facing away from her, his thoughts started to return and he realized that the fight was not over. When in battle, he was always an irrepressible optimist and that is what caused him to turn the tables on so many of his naval engagements. He knew that in order to win, he must fight her without looking into her eyes.
"Let me kiss your feet," he said and then turned towards her.
