Sarlene's Touch Ch. 43

He paused, and grinned, as if remembering something. "Oh, yes, one other little requirement before the Presence physically enters the world. I almost forgot, in all the excitement. Yes, one little touch... I need some..." he raised his hands and a blast of blue-white lightning fired out, striking Shelazzar and flinging her across the room with its force. "... some betrayal!"

Laughing maniacally, the sorcerer grabbed the now-bloodied sceptre from the altar and raised it over his head. Throndar strained against the chains, but they were as fast as ever. Glancing across the room, he saw Shelazzar, lying where she had fallen, moving her head in his direction. She was not dead -- but how could that help him?

The answer came a second later, as the dark-haired woman cast a spell, fingers pointing in his direction as they rapidly formed a complex gesture. With a quiet click, the bolts that held him sprung loose, and Throndar was free, already reaching for his blade.

"It comes! It comes!" yelled Yluk Tz'n'o in triumph, looking towards the portal, and not seeing what was happening behind him, "nothing can stop me now! Nothing!"

Throndar rammed his sword through the sorcerer's chest.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." grumbled the wizard, before falling dead to the floor.

"Throw the sceptre through the portal!"

"What?" asked Throndar, confused.

"Throw it into the fire!" repeated Shelazzar, "so long as it's here, the Presence can still come through. We have to send it back where it came from, or we're all doomed."

"But you're on its side... uh, aren't you?"

"Not any more! Now throw the damn thing, you idiot!"

Throndar considered his options for a second. What she said made a sort of sense, and it certainly didn't look as if Yluk had been intending to throw the sceptre anywhere, so it wasn't as if she was tricking him into completing the ceremony on her behalf. Gambling that the sorcerer's betrayal had truly changed Shelazzar's mind, Throndar did as she said, picked up the sceptre and hurled it at the fiery portal.

There was a bang and a flash of light as the portal vanished. The sceptre, oddly enough, continued its flight through the air, clattering onto the stone flagging beyond as the room plunged into near total darkness.

"Too late!" wailed the woman, before composing herself, "well, at least it can't come through without another ceremony. It's trapped half way between its world and our own now, and that sceptre is the key to releasing it. We'll have to take it with us."

"It is a thing of evil!"

"Then give it to me. You can destroy it later if you like, but we can't leave it here."

"Can you walk? I am surprised anyone could survive the magic he threw at you."

"This bodice is enchanted with defensive magic. He didn't know that. Idiot. I should have known never to trust him. Now come on! The illusion of the open sky," she gestured upwards, "will not last much longer, and then we won't even have starlight."

Her warning was well justified. She had barely had time to pick up the sceptre before the ceiling faded, and the room became pitch dark. As it was, they stumbled around for some time before finding the exit. From then on, Shelazzar had to lead him, remembering her way through the subterranean passages as best she could -- whatever magic she knew, it apparently didn't include any light spells.

Her memory was not, however, the best, and she was evidently finding the navigation difficult. He thought he felt wind one time, and turned that way, in the hope it was towards the exit, but she firmly warned him away, insisting that only a trap lay in that direction.

"It's this way, follow me."

"I can't see you."

"Follow my voice, then. If I remember rightly, it's just a... " She left out a sharp yell as she fell into something with a loud splash.

After much thrashing about, Throndar was able to grab one of her arms and pull her from the water.

"I dropped it!" she wailed, "I dropped the damn sceptre! We've got to find it."

"Forget about it," he told her firmly, still holding onto her arm, "it's pitch dark, and it's as safely hidden in that pool or whatever it is, as it will be anywhere. I suggest we leave this accursed place."

"But if anyone finds it..."

"Unlikely, even if they do know what to do with it. Now come!" he yanked her arm, pulling her away. "Which way is it? Tell me!"

──◊──

Shelazzar shivered in the cold night air, wrapping her bare arms around her legs. "Well, we are free of that place," she said, "but what do we do now?"

"In the morning, we leave," Throndar informed her, "I can easily find my way across these wastes."

"I have to walk all that way in this dress?"

"It would seem so."

She tutted, "I can see there will be a lot of walking ahead. Couldn't you have brought a horse, or something?"

"Couldn't you?" She said nothing. "Are you sure there are no more orcs around?"

"No, they are definitely all dead. You slew most of them yourself."

"Good. Then there will be no one to disturb us," he said, rising to his feet.

"Uh, no, I guess not. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"You said you would be grateful if I rescued you. I have done as you asked."

"I was saying that to get the chance to knock you out. Not that I am ungrateful, mind. We would both be dead, without each other's help."

"Then we shall celebrate your decision to abandon evil!" said Throndar, undoing his belt and casting it aside. "For I, Throndar the Mighty, am well gifted in the arts of love, as well as those of battle. What say you, dark lady?"

"What?" she said, suddenly realising his intention, "is this your normal way of wooing women?"

"I find it successful among the tribes," he replied, slightly puzzled by her reaction, "Are civilised people so different?"

"They are generally less blunt."

"Oh. Well, I am not like your dead wizard; it gives me no pleasure to take one who is unwilling. So perhaps I can change your mind?"

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe once I've at least got to know you?"

Throndar considered this possibility, but it seemed to him a rather pointless way of deferring the inevitable, the sort of ridiculous thing that civilised people tended to do. The barbarian way of life was always so much simpler.

"There is but one thing you need to know, dark lady Shelazzar," he informed her, discarding his loincloth and baring himself to her gaze. "Behold," he said, "the might of Throndar!"

"Oh, for goodness sake! Do you have to be so..." she paused, before adding, somewhat reluctantly, "although, in fairness, I have to admit that that is worth boasting about."

She sat there, still on her haunches, back against a ruined stone wall, eyes fixed on his stiffening cock. He had little experience yet with civilised women, but he doubted that they were so meek and well mannered between the furs as they were when fully dressed. He looked forward to testing the theory out.

"Oh, what the heck... have it your way," she said at last, leaning forward to grip his erection. She pressed her face into it, lapping at his balls with her tongue, then...

***

"THIS is part of the legend?"

"I'm a bard, I extemporise. The legend does say they made love under the moonlight, and, quite frankly, I know my audience, and I elaborate on the bits I know they like. Come on, I don't often get to tell this kind of story."

"Sorry, go right ahead. I'm listening."

***

Still holding his cock, Shelazzar sucked Throndar's heavy balls, popping each into her mouth in turn, gently running her tongue over the skin. The barbarian sighed and closed his eyes, letting her continue, now licking the length of his shaft, pressing lips and tongue against his exposed tip as he groaned in pleasure.

His eyes snapped open as she stood up, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, and he pushed her hard up against the wall, pressing his lips against hers, smothering her with passionate kisses as she responded in kind, her hands now gripping onto his muscular back. He wanted to tear the dress from her body, leaving her quivering and naked in the cool night air as he ravished her... but realised in time that she didn't appear to have anything else to wear unless they went back into the stygian blackness below to fetch something.

Shelazzar was struggling with the top of her dress, pulling her arms free from the shoulders as Throndar's hand caressed her ass and thighs and rained kisses on her upturned face -- he reflected that she was having to stand on tip toe just to reach him, he was so much taller than she. As soon as her arms were free, the barbarian took the opportunity to yank the top of her dress down, bunching it above her bodice as her heavy breasts burst free of their confinement.

His hand leapt from her legs to the exposed mounds, glistening white in the double moonlight, their skin so much paler than his own. He kneaded them, squeezed them, feeling every inch of their soft texture beneath his rough fingers, his gaze sometimes flicking up to watch her face as the dark sorceress panted in anticipation. His next move was to get her out of the bodice, and he struggled to find the ribbons that held it on before she gripped his hand as firmly as she could and pulled it away.

"No," she said, "that's my protection, remember? It stays on. Even now."

He shrugged, finding it odd but not overly concerned with questioning her choice. "But not your skirt?"

He grabbed at it, trying to tug it free from her hips, and this time she helped him, undoing the hidden clasp. "No, the skirt's not a problem," she confirmed, breathlessly.

It was Throndar's turn to kneel before her, and he did so, gripping her pale thighs in his hands, eyes moving up to her panties, which were as black as the rest of her clothing. He massaged the backs of her knees, noting how her legs quivered, and she leaned back harder against the wall as he did so, spreading her thighs apart to give him clearer access.

She had to move them back together again as he roughly pulled her panties down around her knees, but then managed to pull one leg free, letting the thin garment slide down around her other ankle. She was still wearing knee-length black boots, which also seemed to be tied up at the sides. He didn't know whether or not they should be considered in the same way as her bodice, but decided it didn't really make any difference, and left them on.

Throndar cupped a hand over her groin, rubbing a thumb through the triangle of black hair that stood out so prominently against her pale, moonlit, skin. His fingers slid between her legs, rubbing her, teasing her until he began to feel the moisture forming against his skin.

He stood up and pressed himself against her, up against the wall, one hand squeezing a breast, the other easing a finger between her folds as the tip of his cock rubbed against the firm fabric of the bodice. Shelazzar gasped and let out small cries of pleasure as he continued to tease, finger jabbing in and out of her wet cunt. Her small hands grasped his buttocks, digging into the muscular flesh with her blunt fingernails as she writhed against him, lifting one leg and wrapping it around one of his, allowing his thrusting fingers greater access.

They remained like that for a short while, Throndar satisfying himself by listening to the civilised woman's whimpers of delight as his hands continued to tease her. He had known she could never resist his advances -- why had she ever pretended otherwise?

Firmly, but not roughly, he pulled her raised leg away from his thigh and pushed it back down to the ground. Then he stepped away from the wall, pulling her with him. She clung to him tightly, face pressed into the crook of his shoulder, one hand caressing his bulging pectorals as the other still gripped a firm buttock. He lifted her chin up and gazed into her dark eyes.

"Now we truly begin," he told her.

"Yes, goddess..."

"Tell me what you want."

"What do you think?"

"Well, civilised women..." he shrugged again, with some awkwardness, considering how tightly she was holding him, "you hear stories..."

"Then don't be civilised."

He grinned. "I will not!"

He pulled her down to the ground, leaning over her so that his broad chest blocked out the light from the twin moons. Shelazzar gazed up at him, dark hair in disarray, ample chest heaving with anticipation, legs spread wide. Suddenly, she rolled over onto her front, bare breasts brushing against the sandy ground, pale buttocks thrust into the air. He leaned back to get a good view of the pussy he had so recently fondled, then gripped her with both hands around the waist, finding purchase against the fabric of her bodice.

The dark sorceress let out a sharp cry as, without further ceremony, he thrust his cock hard between her waiting legs. Throndar found himself echoing with his own groan of deep pleasure as her body enfolded him. Her skin was softer than any barbarian's woman, yet her cunt was tight, gripping him better than any he had previously encountered. With renewed excitement, he began to began to move in a slow rhythm, sliding in an out, watching how her pale buttocks moved in the moonlight, heaving in time to his repeated thrusts.

Shelazzar moaned as he continued his exertions, occasionally gasping breathlessly, or muttering words of quiet encouragement, but mostly lost in the rapture. Unsteadily, she raised herself on her arms, letting her breasts swing free, and he grabbed one, teasing the nipple as the pale mound swayed with their joint motion, the sorceress' hips pushing urgently back against his.

In the dusty ground next to the ruined building, under the open sky and silvery moonlight, the barbarian and his newfound lover coupled enthusiastically, both their cries vanishing into the still night air. Every time she came close to a peak, Throndar slowed his motion, letting her rest, just a little, before continuing his endeavour. He was leaning over her now, face almost in her hair, pressing deeper between her legs than ever before.

"Enough..." she whimpered at last, and he had to agree.

This time, instead of slowing, he quickened his pace, powerful muscles driving him into that soft, yet oh, so tight, pussy, with all the strength he could muster. Shelazzar's moans came ever more rapidly, beating out a fierce tempo as he pounded into her, pale buttocks and thighs slamming against the barbarian's firm body.

They climaxed together, Throndar's groan of delighted pleasure almost drowning out that of his partner. He held her like that for a little while, letting her shaking body subside, savouring the feel of the cool night breeze against his skin. Then he released her, and they both rolled over onto their backs, looking up into the night sky, uncountable glittering stars spread before them in the inky blackness, both moons full, and already dipping towards the horizon.

***

"Can I speak now?"

"Sure. That's the legend."

"Uh, well, I feel I should point out that you made a mistake."

"No, I did not! Bardic memory is perfect, even when extemporising."

"You just said the moons were both full. In fact you said it several times."

"So?"

"So earlier on, when they were performing the ceremony, you said it was a moonless night. It can't have been, not if the moons were both setting just a few hours later."

"Gah, magicians! Who'd have thought you'd be interested in that bit! Look, there's a perfectly good reason, I just didn't think it was worth mentioning."

"Go on."

"It's why they had to do the ceremony that particular night. It was the night of a double lunar eclipse, so, of course, when they were actually performing it, the moons were invisible, and later... what are you doing? What... what are you getting dressed for? I thought we could, you know... look, what's the matter?"

"Don't you see? Don't you pay any attention to astronomy?"

"Not really, no. I'm not the magician, remember?"

"There's a double lunar eclipse tonight. They're incredibly rare, so that's when they're going to do it!"

"Do what?"

"They're going to bring the Presence back! Tonight! We only have a few hours."