02

Chapter 1: A Lesson in Manners

"You want me to describe the sexiest outfit I've ever worn in every detail do you?" asked Conina, arching one eyebrow suggestively. "Well... let's just say there were portions of my body left uncovered."

She sat cross-legged upon the luxurious feather-bed in her room, watching with amusement as Captain Cassenenzu struggled to maintain eye contact while fidgeting nervously. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. Even in the middle of a particularly nasty battle against orcs. And judging by his expression, even the thought of such violence might hold more appeal than whatever was going through his mind right now. Which probably involved sheep. Or possibly goats. Maybe both. In fluffy huddles together.

"Look, all I said to the guy at the bar is that 'I bet she's worn less before' and I didn't know you were right behind me!" He looked terrified. She had struck him from behind and dragged him upstairs to the 'chambers' where women with negotiable affection 'speak' with men. No one was dumb enough to stop her.

"But I did hear you, didn't I?" she purred. "And so we can talk about it, if you prefer..." Her eyes glinted wickedly. "...or act it out."

Captain Cassenenzu swallowed audibly. This wasn't part of the plan. Not at all. But then again, sometimes plans went awry, especially when dealing with someone like Conina. Still, he had an image to uphold, dammit!

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could discuss it first? Get to know each other better?"

Conina laughed softly. "Fair enough," she said, stretching languidly upon the bed. "Then let us commence our conversation...I won't kill you in exchange for...let's say services, shall we?" She grinned lasciviously. "Unless, of course, you object?"

The Captain blushed crimson. He really shouldn't have taken that last drink. His hands fidgeted beneath the rope binding his wrists. "Well, um..." he stammered.

She rolled off the bed and padded across the room toward him, gracefully sinuous despite her revealing clothing. "Come now, captain," she whispered seductively, running a finger down his cheek. "We both know why you're really here. And so do I." Her voice dropped even lower, until only he could barely hear her words. "So tell me, Captain Cassenenzu...am I wearing too much right now?"

She was wearing a red ribbon tied around one bare shoulder, leaving one breast completely exposed; silver bangles jangled lightly on slim wrists. Her hips thrust forward slightly, drawing attention to where they joined impossibly long legs, and hinting at secrets yet unseen. Around her waist floated a gauzy skirt which billowed out behind her every time she moved, emphasizing the sinuousness of her movements and the smooth strength of her body. Even though Conina stood motionless, Captain Cassenenzu felt hot breath blow through his hair, smelling faintly of smoke and exotic spices. When their eyes met again, hers glittered with amusement. But there was hunger lurking just below the surface. Hunger and something else entirely. Something primal. Never had prey felt so helpless outside the trap a mouse had triggered as a cat turned the corner in time to hear the snap.

Captain Cassenenzu swallowed hard. A faint scent of exotic perfume tickled his senses. Even if he hadn't known who she was, even if he hadn't heard about her reputation, he would still have found it impossible to resist her advances. But he knew who she was, and he did know her reputation. Conina the Red, daughter of Cohen, temple dancer and assassin extraordinaire.

"I'm going to give you two choices Captain," she sat on his lap in the chair and thrust his chin up with one hand to face her, "You can either take me...right now..." She slipped one finger inside his pants "...or we part ways right now, and forget everything that happened." He heard the sound of metal on gauze and immediately felt the edge of steel on his neck. Her other hand caressed his cheek while she whispered the words sweetly enough to make any man beg for mercy. "The choice is yours."

The captain stammered. His heart raced against his ribcage; his hands clenched into fists underneath the restraints holding him in his chair. He could feel Conina's body heat where they touched, taste the hint of sweet wine upon her lips. Her hand was under his pants rubbing his sleeping shaft. Fear, deep seated fear held all his blood close to his chest.

"Excuse me Captain?" Her hand squeezed his softness like a baker kneading dough. "Is there a problem?" The steel pushed harder against his skin. Blood rushed through his veins, filling every cell except the ones he needed.

Captain Cassenenzu closed his eyes tightly, trying not to imagine how easy it would be for her to slit his throat. But try as he might, he couldn't stop himself. Perhaps if he just concentrates hard enough, wished really hard, then perhaps--no! That wasn't going to happen. Not tonight. Especially since he knew full well who her father was. And even though he only met Conina once or twice before, he remembered stories about her prowess...her cunning...her beauty...and most importantly, her ferocity when provoked. No doubt she had inherited those traits directly from old Cohen.

"It's just, that...it's not... I can't." She removed her hand from his pants. "I can work with that mouth of yours though," she roughly pulled his head down as she put one leg up on the back of the chair and the blade evaporated somewhere else in her clothes. He didn't need another moment to understand, she tilted his head back so his mouth was centimeters from her cleanly shaven bliss. "Open up Captain, no more talking." Her hips pushed forward as his mouth opened and he licked her holy folds.

"Tease me Captain, slow down." His tongue moved in slower circles on the outside and she grip his hair harder moaning up at the ceiling forcing his face against her. "Good man, now a little more pressure." She was moving his head around like a toy as he increased the pressure of his tongue around her wet entrance. "You taste..." he tried to say something then the strongest grip he'd ever felt choked him silent, "Shhhh, you're doing great."

She now had two hands on the back of his head as her hips slammed rhythmically into his open mouth while somehow still rocking her breasts against his other cheek. "Mmmm, good boy," she groaned loud enough to rattle the window panes before cumming violently, her whole body twitching as wave upon wave of pleasure engulfed her. Once she finally collapsed back onto the seat of the chair, Conina released her hold on his head letting him take several deep breaths before looking apologetically at her prize catch.

Captain Cassenenzu stared numbly at the floor, feeling saliva dribbling out of one corner of his mouth. Suddenly a thought occurred to Conina, she was spent. She needed a good nap. Silently she sliced the ropes of her catch and said, "You may leave. Let this be a lesson." He nodded once and scurried off without saying anything.

She stretched languidly across her bed and fell into a dreamless sleep...

Chapter 2: No Touching

A few weeks later Conina was in her cage, a pole in the middle, suspended above 5 priests that were praying to their gods that just so happened to be located in the sky above Conina's cage. Their gazes fixed in pious obedience straight up with her scantly clad figure unjustly blocking their view.

Not that they would ever tell anyone, that is not what these men did, they followed orders or died trying, sometimes even managing it quite spectacularly when circumstances presented themselves. Sometimes the temple guards would find bits of cloth tossed around that looked rather familiar; sometimes pieces of furniture that resembled other shapes entirely before being used for whatever purpose.

The role of the temple dancer is to act as a conduit to the heaven or heavens depending on the day. Today however there are no holy rituals planned except perhaps for those pertaining to prayer and fasting, which somehow seem to include stripping naked and grinding ones hips against cold metal bars while five priests watch avidly.

That however, is neither here nor there, unless one were specifically interested in exploring such esoteric matters as wherefore and whyfor in such an exercise, which really isn't something most people think about too deeply. Not that Conina minds though, she has always found solace in contemplation. At least the priests pay well and her figure and form raises their congregations attendance.

After an hour of solemn prayer the large chains suspending Conina are lowered and her cage gently touches the ground. She's in her best shrine outfit which consists of little else besides gold paint carefully applied onto strategically important areas and a few ribbons wrapped around her body. Her hair flows freely down her back and shoulders and tickles the thin paint keeping her chest secure.

Five pairs of eyes follow every move closely. One priest makes eye contact with her and blushes furiously, not wanting his fellows to know how aroused he currently feels watching her undulate sensually across the floor towards them. Another priest swallows audibly when he sees her breasts jiggle playfully underneath barely concealing golden ribbons attached to her chest. A third pretends covers his face with his hands so as not to witness whatever obscene act she might partake next. They hadn't expected anything less but it's one thing to wish for beauty to be so close and another to see it in the form of a viper that can strike at any moment.

"Fathers, I offer the warmth of Summer and the cool of Fall." Conina walks up to the senior abbey and stands nearly at attention in front of him. The cords of muscle in her arms and legs create a rigid contradiction to her smooth skin and toned belly. "I am yours to speak with the gods, how shall you have me."

"Daughter of the most holy, your devotion is admirable," the high-priest said in the voice of a man much older and used to having others listen to him, "you may kneel today." Conina in a sinuous curl dropped to her knees in front of the first priest. "As your holiness demands, so shall I obey." He opened his robe exposing the aged body of a man who has managed to stay in some shape, but one that cannot hide the time. His relic of lust was at full mast as he walked towards his muse.

Conina gripped the back of his legs and opened her mouth to taste his blessedness. Her hands held him fast while she lowered her mouth to his length. She had been a temple dancer for many years and knew how to receive her just rewards. Smooth strokes of her lips left bits of gold lipstick on his holiness. When she knew he was ready she pushed even further down holding him to cut off her own access to air. She released her hold and presented her tongue to the waiting flesh.

There were faint moans around them; distant whispers about sacred unions between mortal and divine. Their bodies entwined leaving little doubt as to where exactly they stood within their vows. Finally there came an almost animalistic cry from deep inside the priest as pleasure flooded through every fiber of his being. As if waking up from a dream they disengaged slowly each breath precious until normality returned.

The abbey looked away innocently when when Conina swallowed once and said, "Thank you for your prayers. May the next father bless me now?" She repeated this rite 3 times and the fifth father opened his robe to her. He was younger and muscular. Again, she latched onto the back of his legs and took his relic in her praying mouth. It was only a minute later when she felt a hand touch the back of her head. His hand.

In a lightening fast movement a hand on the back of a leg became an elbow crashing into the inside of a knee. "Ahhhh!" He screamed as his right knee exploded inside the skin, tendons separating and bones dismissing one another. Before any reflex could take place she was on her feet and her other hand landed solidly behind the neck pushing hard against the spine while her weight forced everything forward. Her hips twisted violently sideways underneath her as he fell to the ground.

One of the guards watched silently from the corner of the church as she dusted herself off, brushed her hair back, and walked to the prayer room.

"Father, we have lost another father today. He did not follow the sacred oath." The high-priest looked at her dirt and gold covered body, no more lipstick remained. "We should all strive to follow the oaths we take daughter of heaven, you have done well." He handed her a small purse with gold coins then she took her white robe from the wall and wrapped her body before heading to her cloister.