My Good Deed

Ladies, you want to hear what Vessa the Valorous has been up to? Come a little closer, and I'll tell you. I'll warn you, my name gives me a little too much credit—I'm not what you'd call a charitable gal. But I've gone and done something good, something truly good, and I'm going to tell you about it.

It all started with a captive I met in a mercenary camp in the borderlands. She was a pitiable little thing, standing there in the middle of the soldiers' mess tent, her hands tied to one of the rafters, high above her head. She was tanned and a little bit muscular, clearly a peasant girl, but damned if she wasn't a pretty one! That hair spilled over head like a waterfall of copper, those lips were parted as if she was ready to apologize for something, and those sweet sapphire eyes said, 'help me' and 'fuck me' at the same time. Her body was ripe for it, too.

I could tell because she wasn't wearing a stitch.

Not that any of the soldiers appreciated that. They must have had all the pussy they could handle already, because even though she was stark naked, her sex was completely untouched. They'd had something else in mind when they'd strung her up. A little sign around her neck read, 'fresh milk.' Every so often, one of those filthy grunts would walk up to her, squeeze her nipple until she yelped, and out came her milk, into the grunt's waiting goblet.

'Magic,' I thought. They must have been using magic to get her boobs to swell up like that, and more magic to get her to make enough milk for everyone.

I made my entrance.

The mercenaries sized me up, with the men paying special attention. Clearly, they wanted to string me up right next to her, make my boobs all big and milky and then squeeze my nipples dry. But when you live the wild life, you learn to tell who can handle herself and who can't just by looking at them. And when they saw me, they saw light leather armor polished to a sheen, a scimitar and buckler hanging ready at my hips and my curly black hair pulled into a fighter's bun. They saw my head high and a smile on my lips, daring them to try me. They knew better. They knew I'd be more of a fight than I was worth.

So they let me walk in. I swayed my hips a little, just to show off, and leaned on the wooden counter the cook had set up. The mean-looking woman behind the counter glared at me.

I pointed to the girl strung up in the middle. "That's a pretty little nothing you've got there," I said. "Where'd you find her?"

"She was a pilgrim," said the mercenary behind me.

I turned.

"Was wantin' to get across the Six-Day River, up north," he went on. "Said she'd pay us if we took her across."

"And we did," chimed in the female fighter next to him. "But look at her. Who could let a little treat like that go?"

"Well," I said, "what do you say we find out? How much would you sell her for?"

The slave girl's rope shook as she perked up. Suddenly, those help-me eyes were the size of lemons. Her pretty little mouth hung wide open.

"Would eighty copper rings buy her?" I asked.

"No less than a hundred," said a battered old soldier who I guessed was the leader. "She is more than a dish-cleaner."

"How about a hundred and five to own her?"

The slave girl gasped. The poor little peasant probably hadn't seen that much money in her life.

"Not enough."

The slave sagged in her bonds and moaned as if all was lost.

"A hundred ten?" I asked. Now I was on shaky ground. A few of the warriors looked like they were changing their minds about attacking me. They knew that if they tried it, I'd bring down one or two of them with me. But that's not such a bad trade when your victim has a hundred and ten spare copper rings in her pouch.

"135," said the old wolf.

"Done," I said. "She's mine."

And that was final. All the tension eased out of the room. The strung-up girl sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She tilted back her head, and I could even see her start to tear up. She wasn't going to miss being a milking slave.

After handing over the money, I untied her wrists, and she fell over my shoulder. I propped her up and helped her take her first, exhausted few steps outside.

"You saved me," said the girl. "Thank you."

"Hold off on thanking me 'till we're out of the woods," I warned her. "I bought you, fair and square, but they're gonna be mighty mad when they find out their treasury's missing a hundred and fifty copper rings. Let's skip town before they put it together, yeah?"

* * *

The girl wasn't in bad shape, considering where I'd found her. Her nipples were sore from being pinched, especially the left one, and her boobs were swollen something fierce, but as the magic wore off, she went down to normal size. A little less than normal size, for that matter, not that I have a problem with that. She told me her name, Iktria. I could have called her Doe-eyes or Sapphire or any of a hundred other names I'd come up with, but Iktria would be fine too.

Getting away from the mercenaries was the easy part. When we really put distance between us and those brigands, that was the hard part. We had to make tracks south across hilly country. It was hotter than a witch's frying pan, and as far as you could see in any direction, there was nothing but scratchy grass, as dry and yellow as kindling. No trees, no rivers and no people. Worst part was, we spent half our time laboring up some gods-damned hill, and the other half we struggled down the other side, trying not to pitch onto our faces. We ran my waterskins empty in a day, and the food didn't last much longer.

"How much farther is it?" I complained. "I thought we were close to the sea, this far south."

"We are," said Iktria. "That's why it is so hot."

"For how hot it is, there'd better be an iceberg and a tavern pretty soon. That would make up for all this trudging."

"These are the disputed lands. No one can be here."

"No foolin'. How far until we're in civilized territory again?"

"I don't know."

"Girl, if you don't know, then we could spend the rest of our lives walking south."

"Okay. Maybe... three days?"

"Three days? That's not good." I sat her down in the shade of a rocky ledge. "We need to figure something out."

She aimed her heart-wrenching 'please help me' face straight at me, and I knew we couldn't just tough it out. For all we knew, it could be a week's march before we got anywhere civilized. I looked into the wizard's pouch I had stolen, and I fished for inspiration. I glanced at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"New favor," I told her. "Lie on your back."

She did.

"Now open your shirt."

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm not just blowing smoke here. I've got a plan."

She looked down at her shirt sadly, then slowly unrolled it up that sweet, slim body. Back in the mercenary camp, the dim light hadn't done her justice. Here, with the sun glaring down, I could see she was tan in a way that didn't come from the sun. She looked oiled-up, like those dancing girls who tour around in the Kanhavar desert. (If you pay extra, you can watch them oiling themselves up—best ten rings I ever spent.)

"Vessa," said Iktria. "Please stop looking at me like that."

"I'm sorry," I said, finding myself. "I swear there's a reason for this. I happen to have a little magic up my sleeve." I dipped my hand into the bag, into a jar, and it came out slathered with thick, soapy cream. I rubbed it on my fingers, on my palms, and straddled Iktria. I put my fingers on her cute little olive-tan nipples and passed my fingers gently over them.

"What are you doing?"

"I swiped this cream from a wizard's pack at the same time I was taking the opportunity to free up a hundred and fifty rings. I think this is what those mercenaries used on you."

"You're making me lactate again!" she cried.

She wasn't wrong. Her chest started to rise. Her boobs swelled up like great, plump cherries. She watched, horrified, as they went from pert little mounds to fat, delicious domes. Her nipples seemed so little and so cute again. I gave the right one a gentle pinch.

And that life-giving fluid flashed on her skin.

I didn't give her time to stop me. I pounced on her, licking her nipple to keep it up, then closing my lips and sucking on her. I could feel the warm, sweet, fatty stuff filling my mouth and then sliding down my throat. I could hear her mewling in protest. I could feel her heavy breathing. And sweet mercy, it made me hot.

Milk is good, rich stuff. It wasn't long before I'd had my fill. My stomach was happy, and so was the rest of me.

She looked up at me not so much with betrayal as with exhaustion. Her sad eyes were wide open, her mouth gasping for breath. I got an adorable peek at her teeth through her parted lips. "What..." she gasped. "What about me? I'm hungry too."

"Well, shoot, that's a good question," I said, talking in a sing-song voice so she knew I'd thought of it. "Just hold still."

I bent down over her again, my body lain along her sprawled legs, her tight stomach, and I sucked on her right nipple until she fed me again. But this time I didn't swallow. With the milk in my mouth, I crawled up to her face, pressed my lips to hers and forced a big, milky kiss on her. As soon as she realized what I was doing, she gave a little sigh and accepted it.

For a long while more, I drank from her swollen pink nipples and kissed the milk into her mouth. Eventually, I started asking, "More?" and always the answer would be yes. Until finally, it wasn't.

Being milked didn't make her hungry like I worried it might— gods' mercy, the spell didn't work that way—but when we finished, she was winded and just a little bit sore. I let her sit for a while before we pushed on.

"Iktria, how come you're alone?" I asked her.

"You mean family?" she replied, looking at me.

"All kinds of people end up with no family," I said, "I know that. But you're beautiful. And you're patient. And you're sweet and helpful... the boys should be lining up to marry you."

She raised her eyes to the sky. "I didn't want to marry."

"No interest in men, huh? That makes two of us."

"It wasn't just that."

"Then what was it?"

She drooped. It's not easy to droop when you're already lying on your back, but somehow, she did. "I don't know."

Iktria was one of those people I will just plain never understand; someone who'd rather go with the flow than take charge. I didn't ask her to explain. Some things are best let be.

* * *

Iktria might not have liked it, but that milking trick saw us through three more days of marching through those hills. Eventually, she didn't even complain when I laid her back and milked her till I had my fill. After I did, whether I felt like it or not, I always gave her her share, one big, gobbing kiss at a time.

In the hot plains, I'd had fantasies of emerging into a nice, cool, shady grotto with fresh water, ripe cherries and maybe a wayside tribe full of pretty ladies who like visitors. Instead, at the end of our march was the sea, and down the shore we found a poor, sun-beaten outpost with a crummy little dock attached to it. Really, I had known it would be something like this. You don't march three days through wasteland and find paradise in the middle. But you can know something and still hope for something else in the back of your mind, and that's what I'd done.

Now that reality had set in, I realized we needed a way across the sea. Paying for passage would've done in my savings, and if we traveled with a crew that was mostly men... well, Iktria didn't need to be reminded of the risks in that.

A ship at the dock looked familiar, and when I realized who it belonged to, I crowed out, "Pay dirt!" I took Iktria's hand. "Follow my lead, sweetie, and I can get us out of here, safe and rich."

When I asked the local tavern-keeper, she pointed me to the farrier, and at the farrier's, I found who I was looking for, just setting there waiting for something.

She hadn't changed a bit. Dressed in a mix of tattered cloaks and armor bits, armed with a scimitar like mine and a huntress' bow, she looked like the gods had made her by throwing together the leftover bits of other women. But gods take me, she had that charm, that irresistible, ready-for-anything charm that I've never found in anyone else.

"Captain Lally!" I said. "As I live and breathe!"

Lally turned to face me. She squinted at me, and she kept squinting and kept squinting until I realized that she didn't recognize me. That hurt. How could Lally forget me?

"It's me, Vessa," I told her.

Her eyebrows rose up, and recognition flashed in those familiar eyes. "Vessa, what are you doing this far south? I thought you were living with the horsemen."

"What have I been doing?" I repeated. "Don't ask me that, and I won't tell no lies. But how about you? You looked just like this when we first met. And it's been five years! You've been doing good, ain't you?"

"After twenty years on the sea, you learn a thing or two," said Lally. "Like how some people never come sniffing for you unless they need something." She gave me a knowing smile.

"Well, you've got me pegged," I told her. I gestured back to Iktria, who stood behind me, looking as uncomfortable as a whaler in the desert. "This poor little beauty and I are heading south. Got some things farther north that are best left in the dust."

"My ship's heading northwest, but there's a Hoskar galley, and it's going south."

A Hoskar galley. I was no slouch when it came to fighting, but if Iktria and I sailed with a boatful of Hoskars, then there was no way we'd make it to the next shore without being stripped, hogtied and hung belowdecks as toys for the oarsmen. "Aw, Lally, can't I convince you to go south instead?"

She squinted one eye and looked sideways at me with the other. Gods, she's cute when she does that!

"The crew can go anywhere," she said, "but there's a lot up north that needs exploring. You'd have to lay down a lot of gold to change my mind." She leaned back and looked at me expectantly. She thought I was about to dump a king's ransom right at her feet. In better times, she'd have been right, but I didn't have a fortune to spend. I had thirty copper rings and a few old trinkets.

Time to change tactics. I lowered my eyelids a little, but not so much that you could tell I was doing it, and I put on a sultry voice. "You know," I said, leaning into her, "there's a lot more I can offer you than money."

Lally didn't gasp—she wasn't quite the gasping type—but her jaw fell wide open. "Vessa, but... but you ended it. Back at that beach on the mountainside, you told me that time would be our last, and I remembered it. I remembered it well."

"What can I say? Mortals or gods, rules are made to be broken."

Lally eyed me. I could see her thoughts right through her eyes, see her weighing the opportunities up north against the prospect of one last fling with her old flame. She kept eyeing me and kept thinking it over, and soon I knew the answer was going to be 'no,' so I spiced up the deal.

"You know," I whispered to her. "Last time, it was just you and me. We might have another player in the game this time."

Lally looked at Iktria and gasped. I guess she was the gasping type after all.

We had a deal.

There was enough time left in the day, and the tides were right, so we cast off just before sundown. Lally and I leaned over the side of the ship and watched the sunset together. She'd seen thousands of open-water sunsets, but I guess she still she saw the romance of it. The pure, epic beauty.

"We could've lived like this," she said sadly. "You always said the sea gods were against you, but I never believed it. You would have made a fine first mate." And a fine wife. She didn't say it, but I knew she wanted to.

I sighed. With the golden light on her face and the fading twilight on her shiny red-brown hair, with the wind snatching her curls away from her regal face, it was hard to turn her down. Almost as hard as it had been the first time. "We're two spinning tops, Lally," I said. "When you have just one top, it roams around, natural-like. It stays up, even when you bump it. But when you've got two..." I knocked my knuckles together and clicked by teeth for effect. "We'd never get along. There's not a ship in the world big enough for two women like us."

She frowned the way she always did when I was right. Then she forced a smile. "Drink makes anything possible. Come and join me in bed, and we'll drink until we're married!"

A couple of eavesdropping sailors laughed at that. Iktria stayed where she was, feeling uninvited, but I motioned her along. Lally might have forgotten Iktria for now, but she'd want her before the sun was up. Even for the uncatchable Vessa the Valorous, Captain Lally was too much in bed for any one woman to handle.

Below decks, in the hanging net of empty hammocks, the crew gave us privacy. To my relief, Lally didn't drink; I guess she thought better of it. I could tell she wanted to use it to numb the memories, to make herself forget that she couldn't keep me. I played my part. It was easy, really; we could never be wives, but in bed, we were flint and steel.

She got on top. Not literally, of course, seeing as we weren't lying down yet. She took hold of my vest, pulled me in, kissed me like I'd vanish any second. She was panting by the time she was done, gripping my sides tighter than she needed to.

I let her keep going. I decided I would draw the line at letting her pull my hair or tie me up—something I kept promising myself I would try, someday. But when she pressed me against the wall, I let her. When she untied my belt, I let her. When she slipped her hands under my shirt, and I felt her warm, female fingers get between my belly and my shirt, my breath caught.

Leave it to Lally. She still knew how to get me off-kilter.

It was only minutes before she had me in her hammock, moaning as her hands worked me over. I tried to look her in the eye, and I was just getting there when she climbed into the hammock with me, looped a leg around my body and mounted me.

By the goddess of pleasure, I'd forgotten what it felt like! She flexed her hips, driving pure sweetness up my sex, straight up my backbone. She knew my body the way only a woman could. Only a lover.

I never stood a chance. She brought me to the edge and straight over, to the edge and over. She never held back. She was as ruthless in bed as she was in a fight. I heard her come just once.

She pressed a little wine to my lips. She must have thought it would keep me going. I rallied a little, and she bent down and used her mouth. She kissed me on the mouth—just a formality by now—then traveled down and worked my nipples. My belly. My clit.

One last wave of pleasure crashed over me, and I was beat. I felt like a pile of boiled rags. Sweat ran from everywhere. I couldn't even remember where my clothes were. She finally let me go, and I climbed out onto the floor and slumped against the wall to nurse my overheated pussy.

Captain Lally wasn't done. Iktria was there in the room with us. Lally had blindfolded her, but still Iktria had heard every little sound we made, and now she heard Lally walking up to her. She stood stiff, cold, afraid, and for a minute I worried that Lally would rush her before she was ready. But I should've known my old lover better than that.

Lally started by whispering. I didn't hear what, and a couple of mean thoughts filled me at once. As she led Iktria slowly back to her hammock, I wanted to pick up a lightning bolt and hurl in between them, split them apart.

'By the gods,' I thought. I hadn't expected to feel so jealous. Especially not after Lally had given me a ravishing fit for a queen. But as Lally plied Iktria with whispers, fingers, and gentle almost-kisses, I wanted to be in Iktria's place.