The Bard

Lucid never had figured out why the women of this land traveled clad only in the barest of clothing. The lack of modesty didn't bother him in the slightest. He spent many hours sitting in market squares watching the women as they passed. Their strong legs and arms ran to smoother lines rather then muscle tone. Their silken skin covered just enough muscle and fat to mask unbreakable bones. These were warrior women, of that he had no doubt, perhaps that was the reason for the chain-mail outfits that, in more 'civilized' countries, would barely be considered undergarments. It had to be symbolic in nature for the outfits barely covered enough flesh to block a well aimed fencing strike.

Another of the scantily clad women walked past ignoring him as had all of the others. He openly stared at her retreating form. He was a foreigner, and hence a barbarian in their eyes, so incivility was expected. As he took full advantage of the state of affairs he felt his pants grow tight. The chain veritably disappeared between the supple cheeks where it connected to a similar weave of metal rope, coming around her hips on either side, by means of a thin silk ribbon. Upon contemplating the design he decided he agreed that he would rather have silk than steel riding high through that area. Her back maintained the seemingly delicate strength of her limbs. There was definition at her shoulder blades that could only be muscle but it was neatly wrapped in much more of that milky sweet skin. The line of her shoulders brought him inevitably to her strong, thin, neck clearly visible due to the exceedingly short hairstyle preferred in this land.

He gazed not simply in lust but in admiration of the ultimate breeding of feminine form. A cleared throat from the opposite direction startled him into flinching. Unsure of his reception he turned, knowing only that someone had likely taken exception to his indecent attention. Seated still, he gazed upon a perfect double 'V'. Spreading downward were the most perfect pair of legs the bard had ever had the pleasure of viewing. Without effort he dreamt of those legs entwined around him in a myriad of positions. Striking upward from the covetous juncture of her limbs was another of those maddening outfits. Where it disappeared it was less then an inch wide. It clung to her body halfway to her navel, widening to only a few inches where it suddenly branched to hug wide, strong, hips. He forced dreams of those hips from his mind as the voice above him again grunted.

He forced his eyes upward adding an extra thrust of will in order to continue past barely contained breasts lest the woman become truly agitated. There remained the barest possibility of redemption over two such slights but Lucid doubted his chances after a third. "About time!" Staring into her hard blue eyes he decided to stand lest the slightest dart of his eyes be taken, appropriately or nay, for a glance at her ample bounties.

"If I may make your acquaintance, I am the bard Lucid of..."

"I know who you are!" As precious lips frowned he thanked his decision to stand, his desire to watch her lips as she spoke would have easily been misconstrued as gawking from a less favorable angle. "What I wish to know is what you think you were doing?"

"I was simply admiring the beauty that nature has provided in your fair land." His honest, if flippant, answer earned him a further scowl and stern glare. "Honest milady, nowhere have I seen such an abundance of strikingly attractive women. The lack of so-called modesty is no mystery. Should Aphrodite apologize for her charms? Nay, she should announce them to the world with pride!" He was relieved her frown faltered and heartened by the confusion in her eyes. Testing a theory he pushed. "What I cannot comprehend is how the men of your villages manage to accomplish anything with such a bounty of distraction openly available to them!"

Her fierce visage broke with a blush. Her eyes averted. Lucid was surprised by the truth he had discovered. In this hard land it was prowess that mattered, the outfits would indeed prove symbolic of their status if only he could unravel their mysteries. Meanwhile the bard was in a region where beauty was appreciated but the men lacked the wits to comment. Likely the highest form of socially acceptable compliment regarded a woman's skill with a blade or a bow rather then relying on her vanity. A dangerous feature for a bard to understand. "Had I but realized I would cause offense I would have put out my eyes rather then betray, for beauty such as yours could do not but beckon them."

Her exposure left a very clear impression when she blushed from head to toe. Hands, once crossing her chest, shifted nervously to clasp behind her. Her eyes sought the ground and her head followed. She tried to stammer out a denial but stopped at the feel of his calloused fingers at her cheek. Her head drifted back up as soft blue eyes met his. "I speak only the truth as I see it. If other men find fault with my observations then fools I name them." Eyes locked until he was sure she accepted his honesty. "Now, by what might I call you?"

"I am Catryce." With her eyes lowered he felt confident enough to risk fresh glances at her body. What first he thought were barely contained now proved to be simply large breasts cleverly held and shaped to imitate the effect without fear of the consequences. Overall the design further accented the proof he had already contained. These women strived for notice and compliments never received.

"Thank you Catryce. As it happens I need a guide within your village." In truth the 'village' was larger then many of the 'great cities' from Lucid's homeland but these people maintained no other term for a permanent settlement, regardless of the size. I am in need of a family to lodge with while I study the legends of your people." Bards were equally accepted and decried alike everywhere in the world. They were accepted for their stories and legends, and for their knowledge of events across the globe. They were decried by the very same people as swindlers, thieves and seducers. Lucid was never the former two and seldom the later, but he expected the reputation none-the-less.

"I know of fair lodging. Come with me." Her fingers entwined with his as she began to pull him through the crowd. He was certain the gesture meant different in this land then his. He experienced an anticipatory thrill all the same. His flattery had been designed to test a hypothesis about the social and psychological interplay but he meant it none the less. He would certainly accept her guidance.

Almost blindly he entered the small hut she led him to. She sat him down on a pallet and moved over to awaken the small fire against one wall. Most of the huts sported a camp style fire in the center rather then the effort of building a place secure from the heat along a wall. It was a tradeoff of heating the room evenly or reducing the considerable smoke that built around a centralized fire. Lucid noted the absence of a third cot in the room. She would have her own and one left unused for guests, such as he. They were a people of nobility, always prepared to welcome a stranger in need.

She crouched, blowing on the dim embers while feeding them twigs. Staring at her smooth back and pillowy butt he was moved to stand behind her, watching her short hair bob as she stoked the fire. Light hands rested on her shoulders. Instinctively she spun into a defensive stance but he refused to flinch. Holding her eyes with his he whispered to her. "You really are the most beautiful being I have ever met."

He did flinch when her eyes flared with anger. Forward her hand flashed causing his shoulders to tense in anticipation of the slap. He gasped and held his breath as her hand found him. Her eyes grew as wide in surprise as his were in fear as she grabbed his manhood. Quickly she let go. Stepping back in shock and surprise she bumped against the wall. It took a moment for his addled mind to reconstruct the events when he suddenly understood what had occurred. She had finally taken offence to repeated lies and moved to prove his claims were false. Much to her surprise she discovered his organ very full of desire. For the first time in his life Lucid had no idea how to defuse the situation. In an effort to prove his affront by the only method possible she had committed an affront even greater through her error.

Eyes like a doe she inched forward. Nothing but sympathy poured from him, he could not find the words to explain his sincerity or forgiveness of her actions. She fell, hard, to her knees in front of him. He gasped as her hands closed carefully around him through the painfully restraining fabric. He realized how she was like to make amends only as she began removing his pants. Hands reached to stop her. He made her cheeks as her mouth closed around his tip in a light kiss. His knees nearly buckled from the simple glorious contact. Still, he managed to guide her face away from him. He crouched as he maneuvered her, putting them on equal standing and removing the temptation from them both.

The moment she managed to meet his eyes, horror, fear and embarrassment present in equal measures, he enfolded her with his arms. Holding her he felt her begin to calm, muscles relaxing, and breath steadying. He was glad they were crouching, for his knees pressed against her where his erection surely would otherwise have. In his haste to stop and comfort her he had neglected to secure his pants. He remained pointing, accusingly, at her between masking legs. One hand held her head to his shoulder as the other rubbed slow circles across her nearly bare back. He felt her tears as she wept quietly and his heart went out to her. She was far more terrified and confused then he had imagined. Likely she was also far younger then she appeared, possibly even just released to the freedoms of the world; to find a mate or make her name as she saw fit.

She had ceased crying a while before but he held her still. Too long had it been since he comforted a woman for no other sake then sympathy. Too many tasks set before him which required his nobility set aside. He clung to her, that part of her which was simple and honest. He lost himself to the connection of shared sympathy.

His breath caught. At some point, for comfort's sake, they had moved to a cot. He sat resting his back against the wall with his arms around her shoulders. She was half laying on her side, her head resting on his chest. From his vantage he could only see her short, dark blond hair and feel the warmth of her pressed against his body. Her unseen hands had found him, absently playing, but with purpose. His heart raced, pumping blood once more beneath her touch. Holding him carefully up with one hand she ran the palm of her other slowly across its underside. He shuddered as his breath burst forth in a gasp. With the weight of a feather her fingertips brushed the solid ridge defining his head. Blood flowed filling him half full.

He gripped her shoulder in instinctive response. The contact once again reminded him of the very outfit that sparked the initial confrontation and with the memory of her body, still half hidden by her shoulders, he sprung fully to life. Surprised by a reaction she had no way of knowing she caused, she rolled to lie on her other side. Her head lay across his knees. He could no longer look at her without seeing himself, clenched still in her hand. Her eyes sparkled with hunger as she gazed into his eyes while still enjoying the sight of her effects. She licked her lips, a subconscious gesture to be sure, and he pulsed more firm under her touch.

Sitting slightly she ripped his pants fully from him to fall to the floor. His eyes traveled slowly down her body as she rolled playfully further onto her back. Captivated by the sight of her in the enticing armor her felt, rather then saw, himself straining at the very limits of his flesh. He need not look to know he had never been larger. A slight, knowing, shift of her leg and there was a slight gap between the metal and flesh of that tender junction between her thighs. His loins raged as inferno and breath sped. It was maddening to know of the gap but see nothing but shadows. Clothing that looked fit to fall free at any moment kept its secrets still.

A soft peck. Her lips brushed against the bottom of his tender sack. His moan was cut short by the sudden impact of his head against the wall behind. His eyes closed. He couldn't breath, couldn't think. Only the vision of the taunting gap played endlessly in his mind. She sucked quickly before releasing him and moving over. White knuckles gripped the straw mattress. A single hand easily pushed his leg wide. Her tongue crept out to slowly trace the delicate skin where his inner thigh met his hips. Muscles trembled uncontrollably at her slow, deliberate, ministrations. He felt his tip brush against her neck as she lifted her head to move to the other leg. His body shook. He'd misjudged her age for all of the experience she demonstrated tormenting him.

Catryce's lips locked against the mirror to the sensitive flesh she had just tormented. He moaned as she sucked, drawing sensation and blood to the surface to dance just beneath her flicking tongue. He felt near to bursting and she had yet to do more then brush past his engorged member. He was losing himself to the warring sensations of pressure and molten lust. "Please!" Even Lucid didn't know whether he pleaded for her to stop or to finish him. Perhaps both at once. He only knew she could not torment him long in this fashion before his body ended it.

She laughed, a musical sound, terrifying in its playfulness. It was as if she were saying 'you're wrong, I can continue forever and never let you finish'. He felt a finger press firmly against the base of his organ, another at the junction between it and the loose skin beneath and a final one between his legs, just shy of his forbidden hole. He couldn't peer through his lust fogged mind to determine the exact locations, meaning or reasons.

Her mouth closed around his tip. As he knew it would he felt the inferno surge forward, racing to the tip. He screamed wordlessly. Somehow it froze a moment before exit, suspending him from climax. Her mouth began to descend and his scream grew in volume. She reached her fingers at his base and used her tongue to press his length against the roof of her mouth. She was milking forth every ounce while continuing to prevent even a single drop from spilling forth. His mind was awash with unfulfilled ecstasy! This was their truest secret and greatest treasure, a technique passed down and certainly practiced. Her mouth moved upward, lubricating him thoroughly with saliva.

Lucid's mounting screams were the only semblance of release allowed to him. Her hands remained firmly in place as her mouth moved faster and faster up and down his throbbing length. His mind broke from his body in frustrated epiphany. He floated in timelessness, aware only of her motion and the pressure and fire that had long since consumed his very soul.

She stopped but he couldn't find his way back. Her fingers restricted his climax in an iron grip. His body told him of a ghost of a breeze drifting across his chin to rest against his chest. She poured honey-mead for him, it's sweet cool flavor a balm coursing through his distressed body. He leaned forward to suckle from the pitcher, allowing it to flow down his parched throat.

A cold weight pressed against his chest, granting him traverse to his body.

She writhed atop him. Her screams almost rivaled his own as her hips pressed down against his face. His tongue and lips discovered every drop of nectar flowing freely from her. He felt her fingers waver slightly, before gaining surety, as she rode his delusion to greater and greater climax. Rather then disappointment over the revealed nature of his sustenance he redoubled his efforts in her glory. His lips locked tight against her skin as his tongue continued to flash. She poured herself straight into his mouth even as she collapsed in delirious fatigue. Only her fingers maintained any strength.

She fell to her side, escaping his delight. He looked down to view the thin 'V' that had covered her lust. Its weight had brought him back. Lying face down against his skin he noticed a small lump near the bottom end. Weak, he reached up to discover a pliable but solid substance placed carefully between the chain and a protective fabric that rests against the skin. He judged he knew where that lump would rest when the outfit was worn. The slightest shift of the hips and it would press insufferably against their blossom. He looked at her in wonder. These beautiful, dynamic warriors lived in a state of constant bliss.

She was crawling atop him once more. Carefully she moved her hands behind her without releasing their grip. She was screaming her ecstasy with mere contact. He felt her shudder and collapse as he began to drift back towards his euphoric heaven. As she fell against his chest her hands fell away. Adrenalin surged through his veins followed quickly by the molten presence of his need. His eyes flew wide as hips thrust forward of their own accord.

Virtually unconscious she screamed, her fingernails raking against his sides. A single thrust, burying himself to the hilt and beyond, was all he could manage before the pressure overwhelmed the vestige of her constant attention. Backs arched against the long pent strain. Hands found each other and fingers entwined as their bodies sought to become one completely. In harmony they screamed their joy as he, throbbing and pulsing wildly, exploded within her. Within moments that seemed an eternity of bliss they collapsed together asleep.

Lucid would forevermore sing the praises of these 'barbarians'. Of course no one was to know the truth of the women's skills and training. Through allusion and inference alone the message spread slowly. He found out later he was lucky. To keep the race strong the women wanted strong men. They trained and acclimated their bodies from the youngest age possible to the arts of pleasure. Any man unable to bring a woman forth upon initiation was killed. Many men feared to try. Many women feared the failure of their first chosen.

In that night Lucid discovered a Goddess of pleasure, and Catryne found her God.