The Dancer

The men cheered as she removed one more tiny layer of gauzy veil, leaving her tanned, smooth flesh even more bare than before. As she danced lithely away from some casually groping fingers she spun the flimsy piece of silk over her head and let it flutter to the floor where the rest of the many nearly invisible pieces lay on the floor.

The heat in the Inn made her slim, tight body slick with perspiration as she danced sensually among the men, the last remaining pieces of silk clung to the contours of her breasts and sex like a lightly shaded blue skin, revealing as much as they hid.

These Northerners had never seen anything like the dance of veils that Talia performed now, and they were mad with lust for her. Rarely would even the most callus of whores reveal this much skin in public, for whatever reason, and Talia was not any run of the mill whore. She was more than even these ill-bred Northern barbarians could imagine. And yet she danced for them. She danced a sacred, profound dance for them because it earned her a lot of golden coins.

And because it made her feel wonderful to dance like this. As she whirled and undulated before them her muscles rippled gloriously beneath the silky sheath of her flawless skin. The thin gauze of her remaining costume showed the blush of her tight, hard nipples, the points of them lifting the filmy material and leaving a clear outline of her excitement. Below, her sex bloomed pinkly and a moist line ran down the centre making men moan with passion, her small tuft of well groomed hair a dark shadow through the blue silk. Even back home most women didn't groom the hair of their sex, but Noblewomen did, and Talia had once been as Noble as they come.

The tiny chain around her waist tinkled softly in the sudden silence as she ran her hands along the swell of her pert breasts and aimed them at the man in the purple robes. The chain lead to a small dangly piercing in her navel, something else these Northman never saw, ands as she rapidly swayed her hips back and forth the tiny bells in the piercing jingled delicately, the cymbals on her fingers momentarily quiet so they could all hear.

The man in the robes had remained still during the whole performance, but as Talia focused her attention on him he began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Trying to adjust some discomfort below the belt perhaps?

As she brought the dance to its climactic end Talia arched her back low, pushing her sex toward the man in the purple robes, her breasts high and pointed at the smoke stained rafters, and as she beat a speedy rhythm with her finger cymbals she let her body lower to the stained floor her legs folded beneath her buttocks and her practically nude body sprawled out at the feet of this man, an offering. Then she went still, all noise ceased for a heartbeat.

Then the tavern exploded in loud male voices and the banging of tankards on the table top.

Once again she had bewitched the lot of them. Coins flew through the air toward her, and bounced off of her supine form. Talia didn't move until the tide of money grew slow and then she stood up in one fluid motion and walked upstairs to the room she rented for the night, and a serving woman from the tavern gathered the coins for her, no doubt pocketing as many as she dared.

It didn't matter. The money down there was nothing compared to the money she was about to earn up here. And that money would still be only a drop in the large bucket of coin she had.

Talia quickly bathed off the sweat of her dance in a basin, and donned some more of the silky scarves that made up her dancer's costume. As she finished tucking the last scarf into a band at her wrist the knock she had been expecting came. With one last pat to be sure the veil over her face was in place she went to the door and opened it

"Madam," the serving girl said with a curtsey, her hands full of Talia's coins, "A man wished to call on you."

Looking past the girl, Talia saw the man in the purple robes, he was standing as far from the door as he could get, trying to look aloof and above it all, but he glanced at her quickly and his eyes were wide with lust.

Without a word Talia gestured the girl and the man into her room. The girl put the coins on a table by the large comfortable looking bed. Talia went to a pair of deeply upholstered chairs by the richly curtained window, and sat. She then poured two glasses of a fine wine while the serving girl let herself out, closing the door behind her.

The man in robes stood awkwardly for a moment, and then made his way to Talia. He bowed low in the Northern fashion and cleared his throat.

"I must introduce myself, I am Shel Nathar, a merchant of some small reputation, " He smiled quickly, then it was gone, "I have been many places, and seen much, but never before have I seen anything like the performance you just gave, my Lady."

"Thank you." She said simply, her voice low, and her accent heavier than it need be.

"May I have your name Lady?"

"You may call me Dancer. It will suffice."

"As you say."

Talia gestured for him to sit. He did so, and took up the proffered wine. After a sip his eyes widened.

"A very fine wine."

"I prefer the best."

"As do I Dancer, as do I. And you are the best."

Talia nodded a polite acknowledgment.

"Dancer, the nature of your dance, it would seem it has a great meaning, but I admit to not being sure of what that was."

"It has layers of subtlety, but also a more obvious objective... which I believe you have already felt."

"Ah, ahem, I believe you may be right." He sipped his drink, "I do not wish to offend Dancer, but I find myself at somewhat of a loss for words."

"That would be a pity, if it were so." She let a little chill into her tone, implying that she would not be the one to proceed, and he had best be a man.

Shel, understood, and it gave him some manner of courage. "I find myself aroused by your mere presence, you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I would very much enjoy it if you would dance for me once more. A private dance."

"I dance for coin good sir."

"Ah, yes." Reaching down to his belt he opened a purse and pulled out a stack of coins that he placed gingerly upon the table. Talia ignored them and sipped her wine. More coins appeared. She sipped delicately once again. Soon a large stack lay upon the table and as the last coin was placed Talia placed her glass down next to them and stood.

Moving to the bedside table she placed three rings on each hand. The rings had tiny silver bells on them and they pealed gloriously as she donned them. Then without a word she began a slow, sinuous dance.

Talia's outfit looked like a billowing gown of sorts but as soon as she moved the gaps between scarves showed like slits revealing her long elegant limbs beneath. Her arms above her head, the rings tinkling a soft rhythm Talia danced a sultry dance that moved her around the empty space in the centre of the room.

The merchant's eyes never left her form, his gaze tracking wherever she wanted it, a flash of leg there, an hint of belly there, she danced and made him dance with her, his eyes the most agile part of him.

Like the dance below in the common room she slowly removed veil after veil. Seemingly by accident they fluttered to the floor showing more and more of her tanned skin. When she was once more down to just the tiny slips covering her breasts and sex Talia moved in very closely to the man.

This time however she let slip the covering of her hair and her long black tresses fell in a cascade down her back and over her delicately muscled shoulders. As her hair fell a soft smell of jasmine filled the area as the spice wafted out from her.

Dancing closer still Talia let her legs spread wide around Shel's where he sat still as a statue. Then she straddled him and began to undulate, simulating riding his cock passionately. As her hands played the gentle bells her fingers explored her body and seemingly accidently pulled the wisps of cloth from her heaving bosom.

Her proud breasts were now exposed, the nipples hard and rosy. The meat of her swells swayed with her movements, the small mounds firm and smooth. Talia squeezed her own perky orbs and moaned softly while her hips lowered and her sex ground down over his.

Lowering her hands Talia began to rub her toned belly, the muscles of her abdomen sharp and defined beneath the silky skin. Her belly encircled by the small chain seemed more bare for the tiny links enclosing it.

Lower still her fingers roamed and the wisps of string holding the silk over her sex fell away and the gauze dropped to his lap revealing the slick pout of her lower lips.

In a simulation of fever, Talia arched her back, hiding her sex from his gaze and then she curled her hips forward sharply letting her glistening slit wink at him. Back and forth she cavorted above him, her juncture leaving small wet marks on his robes where she pressed herself to him.

Then when she could take the teasing no more, Talia fell to her knees before him and lifted his robes. Undoing his small clothes she pulled his rigid member out of its hiding place and engulfed it in her hungry mouth.

By this point Talia was even more aroused than the merchant. Her body ached to be filled, her hungry slot demanded she satisfy it with man meat, but she needed to taste him first. The spear of his flesh slid to the back of her throat and she hummed a soft purr of pleasure, making him jump. With one hand she pumped his tool into her happy mouth, while she plunged the fingers of her other hand in and out of her grasping slit.

When she felt him grow tense with the need to climax she stood up letting his wet cock fall from her saliva covered lips and she went to the large bed and lay down on it, her body open to him, her legs spread wide.

He came to her, pulling his clothes off in a rush, and soon he lay atop her and plunged himself deeply into her steaming depths. Talia cried out a real cry of passion as he filled her needy chasm. And while he began to pump himself into her she had a climax of her own. As her passion tore sanity from her mind like one of her veils, she clawed at him like a cat, her short dull nails trying to rip him, which was one of the reasons they were so short.

When her orgasm subsided Talia opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her with a glazed expression, one of his hands cupped her breast, massaging it, and the other held him up over her as he drove himself into her hard.

Talia lifted a leg up over his hip and with a twist and a push flipped him over on his back, his member still wedged deeply inside her hole. The shocked look on his face made her smile inwardly. He hadn't expected that sort of strength from her, she looked so delicate. Now Talia rode him setting the pace. She bucked quickly up and down on him, stopping every few plunges to grind her sensitive button down onto his pubic bone, thrilling her body.

His large hands reached up and began to both massage her tender mounds, making her sigh with lust. Milking him with her strong inner muscles, making him moan, she drew his seed from the depths of his heavy sack and she felt his rod swell up as he fought off his need to orgasm.

Talia dismounted and pulled his hand to make him sit up, then stand. Then she fell to her knees before him on the floor and took his member into her mouth once more. With her hands she showed him what she wanted. Taking one she placed it on her head, the other she placed on his shaft and she began to stroke him with it, while he was still in her mouth. Then he took over and masturbated himself into her willing orifice.

When he was doing it on his own Talia took her own hands and began to stoke his thighs and massage his testicles. Then with a grunt the merchant began to shoot his thick sperm into her mouth. As soon as the first gout spurted out onto her tongue Talia pulled her face back and put her hand over his to keep him pumping. She then aimed his cock at her face and made him shoot his seed onto her upturned features. Ropes of ejaculate sprayed out across her beautiful visage and Shel gave a long low moan as he did so. Looking up at him as his seed spilled over her Talia saw him looking down at her with a shocked expression, his face flushed and his teeth gritted.

She had discovered over the years that men loved to abase a woman like her, and she had grown to love it as well. The moment a man spilled out over her face it made her have her own climax. Something in the demeaning nature of it thrilled her.

As Shel's sperm trickled down over her lips Talia licked it delicately allowing the pungent flavor to fill her mouth while her hips juddered a new kind of dance. One she could barely contain. Gasping with pleasure she relished the hot spray of his sperm as it drizzled over her cheeks and into her open mouth.

When he had spent himself she took his phallus into her mouth one more time and suckled him, pulling the very last drops of his essence into her thirsty mouth. The final tremors of her orgasm subsided and then, reluctantly, she let him plop out and she sat back on her heels.

She looked up at him and saw the now familiar mixed gaze of wonder, satisfaction and disgust. These Northern men couldn't understand how she could abase herself like this. Their proud women apparently never wasted an opportunity to get pregnant, so dangerous their births. Medicine here lacked the knowledge her people had procured over thousands of years of civilization.

When the merchant left her there, on the floor still kneeling, his sperm slowly drying on her face, Talia rose, and dressed. Not in the gauze, but in armor. She exchanged her jewels for steel, and her silk for studded leather.

Garbed as a warrior she slid her twin blades out of their scabbards to check the blades for any marks.

There were none, she kept very, very good care of her blades.

When she was ready to leave, having gathered the coins in a pouch, Talia finally wiped the mess from her face, and the greatest swordswoman in the North left the room of her humiliation. Her fame as Talia the sword for hire far outstripped the growing fame of Dancer the Woman of Wonder, for now, but Dancer was becoming very well known, even if nearly impossible to find.

The Dancer only danced when she wanted to, and only took to her bed those whom she chose. Somehow anyone who ever sought harm against her was found dead and she vanished. The legend was growing.

None saw either The Dancer or the grim faced warrior leave the building; she was a Shadow Dancer they said, a Mistress of the Dark who changed her appearance at will, and gathered Shadows to do her bidding.

However it was done she slipped into the night before any thought to knock on the door to see to the Dancer's needs.

Two famous women, both enigmas, both dangerous, and desirable, both the same woman.