Sarlene's Touch Ch. 03byFuinimel©
Vardala closed the door to her room behind her, and leaned against it for a while, suddenly nervous. She had excused herself from the late night conversation once Horvan had left to complete his own work for the night. She had claimed tiredness, but the truth was rather different. She pulled the magical glass marble from her purse, and held it in her hand, looking at it, her heart beating.
When she had found it, buried among some of the rubbish near the back of an underground chamber, she had initially planned to hand it over to the others, as part of the group's treasure haul. But that was before she had realised just how useful it would be, and exactly what she would be able to do with it... if only the others did not know. She felt guilty for doing so, especially when she considered what her true motive had been. Perhaps she should just have told them, and then claimed it as her share of the loot. It was so much easier if they did not know... but, equally, it would now be embarrassing in the extreme if they ever found out.
But it was too late for that now. She had the glass ball in her hand, and there was no point having taken it if she did not intend to use it; that would be the worst of both worlds. Taking a breath to calm herself, she slid the latch shut on the inside of the door, and walked over to her bed. She put her jacket to one side, sat on the bed, and pulled off her boots. As a gnome, she loved creature comforts, and the bed already felt inviting. She lay down, above the blankets, feeling their soft material with her bare toes, and resting her head on the deep pillow. Then, already feeling a little more relaxed, she held out the tiny magical orb in front of her.
She knew how to activate the things, of course, having seen them once before, several years ago. They were useful devices, but rare, and it was only her good fortune that had allowed one to slip into her hands. She stared into the glass, willing it to life, and then pressed it gently against one closed eye. The glass began to glow, and a hazy disc of light sprang into being before it. She opened her hand, and the ball began to rise, leaving the disc behind, still fixed in front of her face.
She could see shapes forming within the disc; another image of her darkened room, seen from the perspective of the glass ball, not from her own eyes. A magic eye, indeed, she thought. Now she just had to will it where to go, and hope that no one saw it. It was so small that, surely, nobody would, so long as she was careful. Now she could look wherever she wished, without out anyone knowing... and there was one particular place that she most certainly did want to look.
She willed the eye to float out of the open window and down to the ground floor, where it slipped in through another opening. The gap was too narrow for a person to enter, because of the metal grill over the window, but not something as small as this. She willed the eye towards the main room, where she had left the others, and left it hanging just inside the doorway, in the shadows near the ceiling. The house was only lit by a few torches here and there, leaving many patches of darkness.
Through the doorway, she could see Tarissa and Calleslyn, who already appeared to be wrapping up, apparently deciding that there was little else for them to do tonight, unless they wished to wait up for Almandar and Dolrim. Waiting for the right moment, she paused the eye where it was, until they had begun to head upstairs, and then moved it slowly across the hall, towards one of the doors at the back.
The magical view of the place was remarkable, almost as if she were standing there herself, or rather floating in mid-air, just below the ceiling. The details were as sharp as her own eyesight was, and with much the same field of view. But it was as well that she was in a darkened room, for the shadows displayed in the disc before her would have obscured everything if she herself were standing in the light.
Almost immediately after entering the rear corridor, she saw her target: Horvan.
Horvan was, of course, human, and therein lay the tragedy. He was a handsome lad, a few years younger than she, but old enough to be her type, and mature enough to be interested. He would have made a good gnome, with his looks, his light brown hair and straight nose. But he was not, which meant there would be forever be a gulf between them. Humans often mingled with elves – Almandar was living proof of that – but never with gnomes. The size difference was too much of an obstacle to their perceptions, and, if she were honest, to that of most gnomes, as well. She was three foot two inches in height, perfectly reasonable for a gnomish woman, but against a human like Horvan... well, if the truth were known, she faced him more or less directly in the crotch.
It was a shame, it really was. If only there was some way to shrink him down to her size, to make him see her as a normal woman. It wasn't that she looked child-like in any other respect; her breasts and hips made her as shapely as any human woman. Dwarves were different, with their thickset build and stunted limbs; even if a human were dwarf sized, they would be unlikely, she thought, to find one attractive. And, if she were a dwarf, presumably she would see nothing in Horvan. But she wasn't, and the truth was that he was an attractive young man, and always considerate and helpful.
How many times had she lain in this very bed, thinking about him? How many times had she imagined his face over the last few days, waiting until she could be close to him again? How often had she, in fact, fantasised about him, imagining him somehow shrunk to her size, and of what they might do together if he was? But she did not want to do that tonight; she just wished to watch him, knowing that, if he knew the way she felt, things would become desperately awkward. Because he was a human, and could never reciprocate her feelings, her desires.
So she lay in bed, watching him closing the window shutters and putting out the torches, preparing the villa for the night. She would, she realised, with the shutters closed, have to float the eye back up the stairs after he had gone to bed, and open her door to let it back in to her room. But, for the moment, she was content to watch.
After a little while, seemingly satisfied with his duties for the night, Horvan headed off through a side door. Vardala realised at once that it was not the way to his quarters. In fact, she realised, her heart almost jumping at the thought, it was the door to the bathing room!
The city of Haredil was built on hot springs, part of the reason for its very existence. The villa, like many placed throughout the city, had its own bathing room, filled with naturally warm water. She had used it herself earlier on, to remove the grime and dust of the journey – her first proper bath in over a month. Unconsciously, forgetting her resolution of a just a short while before, she moved her left hand to her breast, stroking it through the russet cloth of her tunic, her nipples hardening at the touch. Was Horvan simply going there to tidy something up, or...
She moved the eye through the doorway behind him, darting it up towards the ceiling. Horvan turned suddenly, looked behind him, and then out of the door. Had the eye been seen? Had she moved it too quickly? Vardala was paralysed now, not daring to move, as if, somehow, he would be able to see her, and not some floating glass ball. But the young human shook his head, apparently seeing nothing at all, and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. It had been close, but it seemed that she had managed to keep the eye out of sight. Now, however, she did not dare to move it from its current place near the ceiling, away from the two lamps that illuminated the room. She could not risk him becoming suspicious again.
Horvan fetched out one of the towels, placing it close to the sunken bath. She realised that he really was going to bathe, and her original plan faded from her thoughts altogether. She had just wanted to watch him working, until he put out the lamps and plunged the house into darkness, but now it was different. She rubbed her breast with her left hand again, wrinkling the cloth over it, feeling the thrill as she slid her other hand down to rest on the inside of her thigh, feeling the smooth leather of her trews tight against her flesh. She breathed in anticipation, her eyes widening.
Horvan slid off his tunic, and then stooped to undo his shoes. For all that she had tried, she had never seen him in a state of even partial undress before; she realised that she did not even truly know what a human man looked like naked. Just how much did they resemble gnomes? Judging by what she saw so far, there was no difference at all. Horvan was moderately well built, his fair skin flawless and smooth, a light covering of hair on his upper chest, but very little. His physique was as she had always imagined it, trim, yet not overly muscular, his belly flat. She glanced down to his waist, as she began fumbling with the cords that held her own trews.
And then Horvan turned round.
It was not his back she wanted to see, but he was now facing away from her, placing the shoes and tunic neatly upon the bench in front of him. She dared not move the eye to get a better look, and just stared at him, unable to do anything about her situation. With a smooth motion, Horvan slipped out of his trews, and then pulled down the short cotton pants beneath. His buttocks were firm, shapely, just the sort she liked. But she wanted to see more. Why was he taking so long?
Grunting in frustration, she moved her left hand down, tugging up her tunic, pushing her hand inside, and then tweaking at the bare nipple beneath. The cords undone, she slid her other hand into her trews, running her fingers over her pubic hair and down to the place between her legs. Her cunt ached with desire, and she willed him to turn round, silently begging him. Surely he had to?
Horvan turned towards the bath, standing before it, stark naked, everything on view. She realised at that point that she had not even thought about which of the two possibilities she had really wanted to be true. Had she hoped that, despite the human's large size in other respects, his penis would be gnome-sized, giving her a hope, if a distant one, that one day he might choose to place it between her waiting thighs? Or had she secretly hoped, in some dark recess of her mind, that humans would be proportioned as gnomes were in every way, making his cock as massive as the rest of him?
It was now abundantly clear that it was the latter possibility that was the truth. She had never seen a naked human before, but she had seen gnomish men, and, in all of his proportions, Horvan certainly resembled one. Just how huge did that mean his cock was, especially when fully erect? How much further away had this pushed whatever hopes she had? Right now, she did not care.
Her left hand working her breast, she dipped a finger between the lips of her cunt. It was wet, hot, aching for her touch. She needed release, and she needed it soon. Her finger stroked her clit, and she stifled a moan as she experienced a sudden wave of pleasure. She needed this so badly, it hurt. Yes, she had masturbated before, thinking about Horvan, but it had never been like this. The image of him standing naked before the bath was one that surely she would hold in her mind forever.
It seemed like an eternity, but it could hardly have been long before he slipped down into the warm spring waters of the bath, reaching for the very perfumed soap and pumice stone that she had used herself earlier that evening. The waters were clear, allowing her a view of his whole body, distorted by the ripples, but more than enough to fuel her fantasies.
She slipped her finger in and out of her cunt, finding a rhythm, feeling the slick wetness of her sex. Then, looking once again at the object of her affection, she did something she had never done before, and pushed in a second finger. She began pumping harder, her breath ragged, pulling on her nipple with the other hand, twisting it between forefinger and thumb. She wanted Horvan so much that it was all she could do to stop thrashing on the bed. Her fingers worked hard, as she forced them further inside, imagining that huge cock fully erect, thrusting its way into her eager pussy. Imagining those firm buttocks pounding into her with increasing vigour.
She thrust a third finger into her heat, finding it tight, almost painful. "I could take you, I know I could..." she gasped, suddenly realising she had spoken out loud. Then her climax hit her, and she arched back on the bed, her small body convulsing as waves of orgasm crashed over her, stunning in their ferocity, blinding her even to the view of the naked man in the disc of light before her.