(A stand alone tale of Phaedra from Hunters & Harlots.)
Phaedra listened to the moans coming from the two sleeping merchants that she was nestled between. She took great satisfaction in the way that they purred and hummed. Were their names Morgan and Jacob? The thief couldn't recall with certainty, but it didn't really matter if she could remember exactly who they were. They wouldn't forget her. Phaedra reached over and twisted one of the woman's nipples, small and dark, and grinned when the young lady's purr spiked in response. Reaching to her opposite side, Phaedra absently stroked the throbbing cock of the man, older than his partner but not by much, while she considered her surroundings. Morning light was creeping in through the curtained windows and it felt like the entire world was open to her.
"This can't be the first time I've fucked a couple of merchants in their cute little wagon. Can it?" she said aloud to the sleepers. Her memory was still incomplete since she arrived in this world several months ago. It wasn't foggy or missing sections that she would have expected to be present. But rather it was waiting to be populated, as if a great unexplored section of the map was waiting to be revealed. She had learned that such empty fragments would fill themselves in when relevant. It was just a couple of weeks ago when she had found herself in a tavern, The Dangling Beauty, and remembered how much she enjoyed the blonde ale that they served. She knew immediately, even though she couldn't recall ever having thought about or drank the strong brew.
These small discoveries made her feel alive. Every day this new world felt more real to Phaedra.
"Oh well," she continued, "if I hadn't done it before, I certainly have now." She slithered her nude body out from between the slumbering couple and stretched out her long limbs. A floor length gilded mirror rested against the built in shelves of the wagon and Phaedra took a moment to admire herself in the reflection. Tall, graceful when she chose to be, heavy breasts that looked too large for her athletic frame, a mess of dark curls both atop her head and between her legs. She winked at the image.
The reflection walked away from the mirror and looked around.
"Where would I be if I were a map...," she wondered and began to rummage through the wagon with the trained eyes of a burglar. She picked through the wide assortment of glass jars on the shelves. Dried out roots, thick oils, powders that sparkled. A small wax sealed cylinder labeled "luxurious lubricant" caught her eye and it vanished in her palm. Phaedra continued her search of the wagon without the constraint of time or the threat of being caught by the young merchants.
Phaedra had hoped that this would be a productive venture and so far it was living up to what she had planned, even if she had yet to find the map that the couple must have stashed somewhere. "I suppose I could just ask the two of you. After last night I doubt that either of you would ever say no to me again. But...where's the fun in that?" The merchants were sprawled out on the bed that took up a considerable portion of their wagon.
The man, was it Jaren?, was still hard. His cock was thick, if not extraordinary. A perfectly serviceable workingman's cock that could get the job done. Phaedra didn't have any complaints about the evening. His companion was a small, blond woman that had shown herself to be eager to please in every way. The girl's unusually dark nipples stood out against her pale skin and red hair and hinted at something demonic in her ancestry. This world held many mysteries, as Phaedra was beginning to learn more and more each day, and beings of mixed heritage were more common than most people knew. In most cases the result of a sorcerer or a demon somewhere lost in the bloodline of the family.
At the girl's moment of climax Phaedra had looked up from between the women's legs and saw a spark in her light eyes, a brief flash of red that vanished when she tossed back her head and howled like the devil. Phaedra considered taking the girl with her, it wouldn't be much of a task to steal her away from the man, but the road ahead was best traveled alone. If nothing else the burden of a companion, even a temporary one, was more than Phaedra wanted. She did her best work alone.
"Enough with the distractions, time to work," this time she spoke to herself and continued to ransack the wagon. It served as both the home and workspace of the merchants. They were a pair of novice apothecaries, selling tinctures and powders to cure whatever ailed whomever they came across. Not a bad way to make a living. And they had some skill. The man had mixed up a potion that kept him hard as a rock for the night. Despite the amount of cum that the two women coaxed from him, he was ready for action after another sip of the dark liquid.
Phaedra reached under the bed and her hand connected with something hard and heavy. She pulled away a curtain that had been tossed over a wooden old chest. With a grunt she grabbed onto the metal handle and dragged it from beneath the bed and into the open. The wood scraped against the uneven floor loudly and shook the planks of the wagon. She cast a quick look to the sleeping couple and heard the contented moans still escaping from them. Phaedra could be as loud as she wanted, the two of them weren't waking up.
"Thanks Tyche," she muttered and began to fiddle with the lock. Like the other gods of this world, Tyche cared about pleasure. Specifically, Tyche was concerned with the pleasure of the dreaming mind. Wet dreams, dirty thoughts, distracting fantasies. If it fell into the realm of imagination and the unconscious, Tyche held dominion over it. It was a sphere of influence that Phaedra felt a particular draw to. In her previous life, as the overlooked and sex obsessed Emily, dreams were about all that she had and the attraction to them was imprinted into her own mind. The connection remained even in her new body.
It was only several weeks after her arrival in this world when Phaedra encountered Boris, an acolyte of the dreaming god. Boris was short, a bit on the plump side, and the most appealing thing about him was the ostentatious jewelry that he wore. Fancy rings and bracelets that would look far better on her elegant fingers than they ever did on his pudgy ones. Figuring him for an easy mark, Phaedra had no problem seducing him and getting him to her room at the tavern. It wasn't until she woke up the next day, after a night of the most arousing dreams that she had ever had, that Phaedra realized her night had not gone according to her plan, but to the plans of Boris instead.
Boris and his jewelry were gone when she finally stirred from bed, frustrated and unable to return to her dreams. She hunted him down the following evening and the scene played out nearly the same way. This time she fucked him an alley behind a smithy and woke in the morning feeling perhaps hornier than she ever had in her life. Once again, Boris was gone.
The third time she found him she was more direct about what she wanted, which was no longer his jewels. Her desire was the secret to what he was doing to give her such incredible dreams. The man consented on the condition that she travel with him as his consort and servant for 28 days, a full cycle of the moon he pointed out. Without hesitation Phaedra agreed and was introduced to the mysteries of Tyche.
Now, with the chest pulled out from under the bed and no particular restraint on her time, she took another look at the couple. She was a bit envious knowing what they were experiencing, she couldn't deny that. The night before, as the three of them were engaged in the pursuit of carnal pleasure, Phaedra had arranged their bodies in a specific pattern that correlated to the position of the moon. Phaedra's powers of seduction were considerable and it wasn't difficult to then get the two of them to speak certain words as the next step in the ritual. Their orgasms, the final component, sealed the ceremony and not long after their release, the merchants fell into a blissful sleep of fantasy and pleasure and desire.
Phaedra considered it a win-win situation. They got an incredible experience and the best dreams of their life. And she got to ransack their wagon without disturbance.
It's fortunate that Phaedra had all the time in the world because she wasn't actually much of a thief. At least not when it came to skills like picking locks. She retrieved her tools from the bag she had hung from a hook on the back of the door and got to work on the sturdy lock of the chest. She did her best work in the nude, so Phaedra stayed that way. Her tits wobbled as she pried at the lock with small files, her shapely ass stuck straight up when she got on all fours to eye the device closely, and she felt herself get wet when she stroked the metal in an ill conceived attempt to seduce the lock open.
None of it worked.
