Sage and Sea

The heady scent of golden wheat, burning wood and fallen leaves, mingles with the far off scent of the sea. The fragrances of autumn drift gently through the air, my nostrils flare ever so slightly as I breathe deeply into my lungs. The moon is as round and orange as a ripe pumpkin. A giant orb hanging low and bright in the sky; its glow matches the glow in my eyes as I approach the gathering of people. My boots made of whisper soft doeskin, laced up to my calf, pad lightly over the loamy trodden path, bringing me closer to my destination. My lips curve into a smile and I am filled with anticipation at the sights my eyes behold; bonfire blazing, bejeweled dancers sparkling, hands coaxing rhythm upon drums ... The drummers have formed a circle around the dancers who dance around the fire in a circle, to celebrate the full moon.

I have become of an age suitable for marriage; am allowed to dance now as a woman and I follow my father impatiently as we reach the festivity. Sensing my eagerness he steps aside, sweeping his hand towards the fire, signaling my release. I am on my own for the very first time, untamed and free; it is now up to me to control my destiny. I will dance tonight, the daughter of a rich man; I am full of beauty, confidence and grace. I weave through the crowd; step lightly through a space between two drummers and feel many eyes turn upon me when I go as near to the fire as my skin can tolerate. The hot licking flames threaten to consume my flesh and yet I cannot stop this trembling from deep within.

I turn to face the drums. The harmony of their beat seeps into the very core of my being, enticing my body to move; every sense aroused by the sensual groove. My hair cascades down my back in shimmering waves, wild like the mane of a horse. The light fabric of my skirt, flaming red hue of an autumn leaf, flutters around my legs; butterfly kisses as I sway. Pretty, sheer peasant blouse dips low around my shoulders; nipples delicately teasing... I am very pleased with this evening.

Amidst my dancing I look across the fire right into a Man's eyes. I have never seen him before and I realize He has been watching me as He plays upon His drum. A pleasant hum thrills along my body as I fall into those eyes. They are the color of the darkest golden-amber honey; dripping sweet in their endlessness. I decide I will entice the bronze muscle and sinew man; I am beauty, confidence and I am free. I begin to dance for and tease He; this Man who gazes at me so intensely from across the sparking embers of the fire. His image shimmer's and floats in the waves of heat; the sultry drums and heat; my heart beats as it never has before. I feel a change inside my soul, a change so profound I know that I will never be the same.

Hands fly faster upon drums. With each sweet shimmy of my hips and every tantalizing sway, I can see His passion grow from a smoldering ember into a raging glow that rivals the great fire between us. My skin is glistening with a fine sheen of sweat; I am swept away by this energy... I throw back my head, close my eyes and in sheer abandon utter a cry that echoes into the night. I am filled with delight at having captivated the attention of a man such as Him.

When I open my eyes again, he is no longer there. I scan the crowd quickly but do not see Him anywhere. I blush at my obviousness and quickly avert my attention to the ground. Peeking out of the corner of sullen lashes, I realize He has truly gone without a trace. I can still see the surreal image of His face burned into my mind. I nearly want to cry. Not once did He even smile at me, just gazed upon me all the while I had so boldly tried to beguile him from across the fire. Had I only imagined the desire I thought I had seen raging in His eyes?

A week has passed but I am still moody and brood over the Man with the Drum. I shun the attention of yet another hopeful suitor and my father shakes his head at my ill temper as he turns from me to shut the door. I stick my tongue out behind his back, continue to pout and make a vow that if I ever see the God in Flesh man at the circle again, I will ignore him and I certainly will not dance for him. Eagerly I await the passing of the days until the next gathering of the drums...

The full moon is finally upon us and I prepare for this night with attention to every detail. I clasp the weight of a hand-made pewter necklace about my throat. The finely crafted, jeweled heirloom rests at the hollow of my slender neck, soaking up the heat of the blood pulsing through my veins. Pewter chains inlaid with precious stones dangle alluringly over my bare belly and around my hips; a smile flits over my lips as I look with satisfaction upon my reflection in the mirror. I finish lacing my boots; I am ready to go.

My father and I arrive and I stride confidently ahead of him this time, through the beating drums. I chance a quick glance around as another dancer and I embrace, but I do not see the face I am looking for. There is an open place by the fire and I go to it, begin to move my body with the sensuous fluidity of water. I writhe; reach my hands to the skies and my heart skips a beat when I spy a man approaching along the path. It is Him and He carries his drum upon his shoulder. The muscles of his thighs ripple under finely tailored breeches; bronze skin contrasting against white linen shirt opened loosely at his throat. As he begins to play I make my way a little closer, waiting for the moment he will see me. When His eyes finally come to rest upon mine I stare into his for a long cool time; turn my back on him haughtily...

And then I begin the dance.

I enchant the drums as I make my way around the circle and I tease. I steal a glimpse in his direction; He does not look pleased. The rhythm of the pounding drums picks up speed. Bending my body back like a reed in the wind, I let my hair flow nearly to the ground and giggle in arrogance and pride at ignoring him so. The drummers beat a fiery tempo until they can go no more; they cease in unison and I release my shrill cry into the moon lit sky. I am given a sudden fright when fingers brush lightly along my back. I turn quickly and gaze straight into the chest of Him. His closeness flusters me out of my grace; the pleasing scent of sage drifts to my nostrils as I glance up quickly at His stony face. His eyes have a chill but I can feel the heat radiating from his body as he leans near to mine and whispers huskily into my ear, "Take care who you dance for sweet, spirited mare." I watch numbly as he goes to his drum and throwing it upon his shoulder; walks away into the night.

I feel surly and forlorn when I awaken late the next morn; I am a woman scorned and the hotness of tears wells up in my eyes. I don my riding clothes as every morning before and walk out sullenly to the barn door. I step inside and can't help but smile when I am greeted by a soft whinny. I can see by the gleam in the mare's obsidian eyes that she is eagerly awaiting our ride together. I run a brush over her glossy hide, tighten the girth of the light leather saddle and place the bridle over her ears. Leaping astride her back we leave the stable behind and step onto the path that winds its way through the forest and eventually to the sea.

She and I make our way into the dense line of trees and I gaze quietly upon the magic that is all around me. The rays of the rising sun filter through the lush canopy overhead, glistening upon wisps of mist rising from the ground. I imagine myself surrounded by fairies and other fanciful woodland creatures until my fleet steed becomes restless. She tosses her head, asking for the reins and I release my hold; let her go. The cadence of her hooves beats faster and faster. Her speed is blistering; she can feel my burning need to be far away. I crouch low over her withers until she finally tires and slows. Her flaring nostrils glow burning red in the backdrop of the sun as she exhales two plumes of hot steam into the air like a dragon. Her sides are heaving from her labored breathing and lather drips off of her belly and onto the ground.

As we stand there, I become suddenly aware that the forest is strangely hush. I get the uncanny feeling that we are not alone and my mare pricks up her ears; confirms my fears as three dark riders emerge from the shadows of the trees. They resemble birds of prey swooping down upon me as their cloaks billow out behind them. I quickly realize that my horse is too tired to try and flee and I lash out at the rider nearest to me with my short braided whip. It curls around his arm and I gasp in alarm when he jerks it to him and I am pulled swiftly forward. He uses my momentum to fling me belly-down upon a blanket he has draped over the front of his hunting saddle. Sputtering extremely un-lady like words, I struggle fiercely until the man brings the palm of his hand down with a solid crack upon my fanny. I am subdued; stunned that he has dared to treat me in such a manner. My wrists are tied behind my back, my feet are bound, and a dark silk handkerchief is placed firmly over my eyes. I sniffle in fear; in outrage that I am hanging there in front of him like a slain deer. His low voice reaches my ears; reassures me that all will be well as long as I behave. I think that this man just may be the biggest knave I have ever met. I wonder why he has captured me... Surely he must know that my father is wealthy and intends upon holding me for ransom?

Our journey together begins along the sandy trail in the forest. We ride in silence. To take my mind off my predicament and stinging behind, I concentrate on listening... to the piercing calls of a hawk, the sighs of the leaves in the breeze, the steady breathing of the horses; my own breathing. I feel thankful for the blanket that cushions my body from the saddle. Become grateful also for the warmth of the cloak I had donned earlier this day, to stave off the slight chill on my way out to the barn.

It seems as if we travel for hours and I grow bored and weary. I can tell from the muffled sound of the horses' hooves upon the ground that we have strayed off onto a different path. We approach a splashing stream and pause at the edge. Our horse lowers its head to drink and my rider rests his hand upon my side to keep me from rolling away. The piquant aroma of a plant the men smoke; mingles with their relaxed banter in a language I do not comprehend. I think of escape and his fingers start to move ever so slightly, stroking my side lightly as if I am a pussy cat. The horse abruptly raises its head, and I feel relieved when the rider instead places both hands back upon the reins.

We continue our passage. After a short while to my dismay I feel the man's hand searching for a way under my cloak. He gains entry and his fingers begin to roam, becoming bolder as they trace the curve of my breast. He is baiting me and I stumble right into his jest. I shriek and heave mightily, causing the horse to shy uneasily sideways. The man briskly delivers another spanking and there is laughter this time. My pride hurts just as badly as my behind and I clench my fists... because my hands are tied I can do nothing to try and ease the pain. Grudgingly I decide that for now, there is nothing further to gain from ill behavior... I do not stir or make a sound when he delves back under my cloak and finds his way into my gauzy cotton shirt. He explores the silk sash I wear across my breasts, tied at the back for support when I ride; tells me how very clever I am while his fingers pry at the knot. It soon comes undone and he seizes one end of the sash, pulling it to him smoothly. The sensation of the silk rushing over my nipples sends divine ripples up and down my spine. I hear the man snuff at the warm delicate fabric, savoring the fragrance of me; he is like a stallion testing the air with flaring nostrils for the scent of a mare in heat.

The man massages along the path of my spine; traces the curve of my hip and down and around until his fingers find the place where the V of my split riding skirt meets between my legs. He embarks upon a thorough inquisition of this new found treasure and I bite my lip; my breath quickening. My face is aflame and I try my best to stay silent as he plays this game; I would be so ashamed if the other riders knew. He groans low in his chest when his fingers feel the wetness that begins to seep through the fabric of my panties and skirt. I whimper softly in despair that my desire be so apparent. He gives the cheek of my behind an affectionate squeeze, then simply withdraws his hand. And I am left there to wonder if a ransom is not what this man has in mind after all.

Just as my breathing calms in my chest it seems we have reached our destination. The horses are brought to a rest and I hear a rider hop down and approach us. I bide my time as he releases the binds from around my ankles and lifts me off of the saddle. As soon as my feet touch the ground I burst into a frenzy of action, snarling as I go after him with teeth bared. The fervor of my attack takes the man by surprise and the air whooshes audibly from his lungs when I jab him in the belly. I have earned my freedom, albeit temporarily as he backs away to nurse his wounds.

I stand there warily like an animal at bay, waiting for a way to fight or escape. There is a creaking of saddle leather as the two other riders dismount their horses. They draw quickly near and I hear the voice of the one I recognize. He chides my antics as he lays hold onto my tangled hair with his fingers. Securing his arm around my middle, he drags me back into the wall of his chest; reaches up over my breasts and nearly encircles my neck in the span of his hand. He applies pressure lightly just until my breath whispers slightly in my throat. It is a warning well heeded. I can feel the power coursing through the tendons and muscles of his fingers and I press the length of my body into him, signaling my submission. He tosses me over his shoulder like a drum; thanks his men for a job well done, and the horses are led away.

I am carried into a quiet place and we climb a flight of stairs. His boots make a distinctive ringing sound upon what can only be a marble floor. There is a soft click as he turns the handle of a door and lets it swing wide; pausing for a moment as we step inside, to inhale deeply. The air is filled with the heady attar of sage and sea; it brings to my mind a fleeting sense of familiarity...

He sets me onto the softness of a bed; removing my cloak as a myriad of thoughts race through my head. I hear him sit upon a chair, remove his boots and his bared feet pad about the room. A door closes; another opens and he stokes a crackling fire. He makes his way back to me and the bed dips slightly as he places his weight upon it next to mine. Untying my wrists, he murmurs soothingly into my ear, "Please do not be afraid for I did not bring you here to hurt you. I have brought you here to teach you a lesson, and I will only do to you what you invite me to do." I sit tensely, greatly questioning the kind of lesson that I am here to learn.

My fingers twitch, itching to rip the blindfold from my eyes. He senses my intentions; swiftly grips my hips between the vice of his thighs and leans forward, pushing me back into the bed. He threads his fingers through mine and spreads my arms wide like a soaring bird. I can feel his manhood straining against his breeches upon my belly and I realize that he is truly not interested in a ransom. I shriek like a heathen; buck, turn, twist beneath him and try to reach for his flesh with my teeth. He chuckles at me; rides out the tempest, keeping just out of reach as I carry on. His heaviness encumbers my struggles; I am panting for breath and must take a rest.

He moves his lips to my neck, grazes his teeth and nips me there, telling me that I am very spirited. Enraged, I squeal and wage yet another epic battle until my muscles strain with effort and I am drawing breath in great ragged gasps. He admonishes me for fighting him so, lets me know that I am only hurting myself and promises that he will leave me unbound only if I behave impeccably. I nod meekly in agreement as I turn my head to the side. It is not my wish to be helpless, blindfolded and tied... He eases his body off of mine and my lungs gratefully expand to take in more air.

I do not even care to flinch when his fingers unlace the slender ribbons of my blouse. He pulls it low around my shoulders, over my arms and bunches it at my waist, then moves to undo the stays of my skirt. He grasps the garments at my hips; slips them smoothly down my thighs, my knees; over my feet until I hear them fall in a heap upon the floor. I have only my doeskin boots left on anymore to spare my dignity. I bend my knees, tucking my heels up against the roundness of my cheeks in an effort to hide my bareness. His hands have the delectable roughness of a cats tongue as he runs them along my body until coming to a rest upon my clenched knees. He asks me in a seductive gentle voice, to please open my legs for him.

I hesitate, contemplate... am startled when I hear him say, "You might as well obey because either way, I will win."

I decide to give in.

My body is the focus of his attention once again. He grazes his bare chest over mine before the moist heat of his mouth finds my nipple; swirls his tongue and suckles, then gives the same attention to the other one. He cups my breasts in the palms of his hands and I arch my back to him; a craving stirring in my loins as he kneads my pearly satin skin. His lips create a trail of bliss as he journeys down and places a kiss right above my womb. Goes down even further and I seize his thick hair; shocked when he dares to dip his tongue there into the sweet spot between my legs. His fingers spread the petals of my lotus flower, giving him access to the succulent nectar inside. He licks me, flicks his tongue over my sensitive bud and eases a moistened finger into me, gently opening my untried body, teasing and playing until I moan and writhe beneath him. I voice my displeasure when he withdraws from me briefly to undo the lacings of his breeches... My body trembles, I ache with need and I am a flowing river. He moves back between my knees and I dig my fingernails into his sides; open my legs wide in invitation. I feel the strength of his restraint as he glides his pulsing flesh into mine ever so slow; going deeper, slowly deeper until he seems to touch my very soul.

Our bodies meet and begin to instinctively dance to a primal ancient beat. The steady rhythm and heat of our undulating flesh lures me onto the threshold of Elysium. I urge him into me; wanton with lust and he responds, his hips thrusting harder, faster; more insistent. He presses his warm lips to mine and the scent of me upon them drives me over the edge into a divine abyss. A torrent of blazing energy releases in me; brighter than a thousand suns and more powerful than a stormy sea. He rides out the tumultuous waves and when my cries of passion have ceased, he becomes very still inside of me. I lie there with his body upon mine; legs entwined with his in this lover's embrace. He tenderly runs his fingers along my face, pausing when he reaches the silk blindfold, only a moment, before he sweeps it away

...and my breath stays in my throat when I look upon the face of Him; the Man with the Drum. I gaze with amazement into the deep golden amber pools of his eyes. I am reflected there, but hardly recognize the image of me that I see; it is satiated, untamed and lovely. It seems as if my captor has in truth set me free and I am filled with gladness that it is He. A smile is upon his lips as he rises on his arms above me with triumph in his stance, and says in a sultry voice,

"Now we will dance together."