ryssa lay back on her bed and stretched, completely aware of the effect that this had on her slave, who was trembling with the effort of restraint. She smiled to herself and stretched again, arching her back, her breasts straining against the thin material of her dress. Kulyar whimpered very quietly.
"Is something the matter, slave?"
Kulyar cleared his throat. "No, mistress." he managed.
She smiled her approval. "Good. Now, let me see... nothing particularly pressing to do this morning... I think I'd like you to –"
"– massage your feet?" he suggested hopefully.
She frowned at him. "Don't interrupt, slave! No, I think, this morning, I would like you to scratch my back." She turned over and lay on her stomach; with a gesture, her filmy dress parted magically from the neck-line down to her legs, revealing her beautifully rounded behind, while remaining fastened around (and depending from) her neck. Kulyar felt a rush of blood which started around his face, sped downwards and settled somewhere near his groin, as she gestured that he should come closer... he kneeled beside her bed, reached out with his right hand and delicately placed the nail of his little finger against her back, between her shoulder-blades. She gave a small shudder as he drew the finger down a path parallel to her spine, finishing a discreet distance above her buttocks. He recalled fondly the thrashing she'd given him the last time he dared to touch her there without her permission... he twisted his hand around slightly and retraced the line, finishing close to the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed as the Troll gently drew his fingernail down her back again.
He had found that if he was very careful, he could progress to using two fingers after about five minutes, and to using all of the fingers of his right hand after another few minutes with no protest from his mistress. He did so, and was mildly surprised to find that she didn't protest when he graduated from scratching her back, to massaging it gently with the ends of his fingers (making sure not to press too hard at first, and to keep his potentially lethal fingernail out of the way). He worked his way up from just under her ribs to her shoulder-blades, digging into the tops of her shoulders and drawing small gasps of pleasure from her; he then adventurously began rubbing down her spine, finally settling around the back of her hips, just above `the forbidden zone'. Once there, he dug his thumbs in as deep as he dared, slowly moving them up and down.
As he did this, Tryssa was moaning softly and wiggling from side to side. She reached back and grasped his wrists, moving his hands insistently, wrapping her fingers around his and placing them around her waist, so that Kulyar appeared to be holding her down on the bed. Unnoticed, his breathing was getting deeper, as was hers; it came as a complete surprise to the Troll when she said, very quietly, "I want you, slave."
He froze, and she hissed "Don't stop!" In panic, he continued; after a few moments, she spoke again, in a softer, more intimate tone. "You want me, as well. I can tell, from the insolent way you stare at me when I'm getting dressed... the insulting way your eyes cling to my body whenever you are in my presence." There was a pause, after which Kulyar whispered, "I'm sorry, mistress."
She laughed softly. "Don't be... if anyone else knew of my desire for you, I'd be thought of as some sort of sexual deviate..."
Kulyar thought about this. "I thought all Elves were sexual deviates... the Trolls have a saying: Trolls Do It with Trolls, Humans Try Not To Do It With Anyone and Elves Try To Do It With Everyone."
Tryssa laughed at this, then abruptly turned over to stare at him, a curiously blank expression on her face, eyes wide. "I want to be with you, Troll. Now." There was an embarrassed pause, a silence which was broken by a slight creaking sound coming from the crotch of Kulyar's rough leather breeks. Tryssa glanced down, smiled when she saw the state of his arousal and instantly switched to what Kulyar had come to think of as `tease mode'. It was signalled by a cruel smile which played about Tryssa's beautiful lips as she reached out to stroke him, her finger outlining the bulge of his erection. She sat up, moving slowly and not taking her eyes off him; abruptly, she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him back on the bed, crawling forward to kneel over him, gently squeezing his ribs between her thighs. She sat there for a moment, regarding his mixture of confusion, desperation and lust, and smiled afresh. "You are such fun to play with." she murmured, closing her eyes and hugging him, brushing the tips of her breasts across his face. He shuddered and started to thrust his pelvis up at her, but then realised: this was his Owner; he had no right to behave that way. He couldn't assume that she wanted to make love to him; she was, as usual, teasing him, and would send him back to his hole when she got bored. He half-slumped back onto the bed and lay there limply, eyes closed, and yelped suddenly as Tryssa reached down and bit his slightly pointed earlobe; she then leaned back and grinned at him, noting appreciatively the way his eyes widened and the pupils dilated in fear.
She slowly unbuttoned his tunic half-way down to his belly, and slipped her hand inside to stroke his hairy chest and tweak his nipples with one hand, while she loosened the cord that held closed his breeks and slowly insinuated her hand down to where his erection pressed tight against the leather, freeing it to wave in the cool evening air. Eyes slitted, she lasciviously stroked its entire length, running her fingers along the veined underside, encircling the head with her thumb and forefinger and tugging gently. Kulyar moaned; encouraged at his response, Tryssa repeated the motion, noting how flushed and close to losing control her Troll slave appeared to be. Grasping his erection in her fist and feeling it grow even larger, she became aware of a familiar stirring deep within her, but one she had never expected to be associated with this situation; particularly not so with this partner! She tried to shake the feeling and continue working on Kulyar, but it began to distract her again a few moments later, when the Troll began to breathe so deeply that he was practically grunting, in a bestial (and typically Troll-like) fashion. She was on the point of ordering him to try and be a bit less uncouth when she came to the realisation that it sounded... interesting? Whatever the word, she did not order him to silence, but instead took his shaft in both hands and squeezed harder. Kulyar moaned again, so she alternately tugged and squeezed gently, with the head of his penis trapped behind her fist.
The Troll was almost raising his hips off the bed with the force of his frustration; Tryssa was obliged to entwine the fingers of one hand in the dark mat of hair that covered his chest while desperately holding on to his erection with the other. She suddenly released his penis, allowing him to fall back on her bed with a thump. He seemed to realise where he was, and she almost purred at the familiar sight of his wide Troll nostrils flaring, as he gasped with fear. She sat there for a moment, her thighs pressed into his sides, her behind hovering tantalisingly over his swollen endowment.
"Do you want me, Troll?" she murmured sweetly.
"Gods below, yes, Mistress! Please!"
She smiled, and breathed, "I love to hear you beg..."
"Please! Mistress, PLEASE!" She nodded approvingly, and with tantalising slowness, lowered herself onto him, gently rubbing her swollen lips against the head of the shaft which eagerly strained upward to meet them. She rested momentarily with him pressing against her entrance, holding him down with her feet tucked inwards over the tops of his thighs; then she moved upward, pressed her warmth against his belly and slid down, pushing her behind against his shaft, holding herself back against it, teasing him with the slick wetness which belied how intently she felt for her ugly Troll slave. With an agile movement of her hips, she rubbed herself against his erection, squeezing it between her thighs and holding her breasts just above his face. She could tell from his expression that she'd pushed him about as far as a Troll could be pushed; supporting her weight on her toes and outspread legs, she reached down and held his erection just below the head, rubbing it against herself. Kulyar responded with a renewed series of growls and grunts which almost made her knees weaken. She half-closed her eyes with pleasure as she slowly slipped the end of Kulyar's shaft inside her, then out again; the sensation was such that even she felt that she could not resist for much longer. Finally admitting how much she wanted this, she released her hold on him and, transferring her support from her toes to her knees, slid down onto him. He gave a long, drawn out basso rumble which she could feel in the pit of her stomach. She levered herself off him slowly, then dropped down on him again, unable to repress the moans of pleasure which this motion induced. For a few moments she bucked up and down on him wildly, clutching at his shoulders and digging her fingernails into him, stopping when she sensed that he was about to come and resuming when he'd calmed down.
"Ah... unh, if you... if you come before I do, Troll... ah, you will be punished..." she managed between thrusts. Unsure if he'd heard her, she sat up until the head of his penis was just inside. "Do you understand me, Troll?"
He stared up at her with a dazed expression, his eyes slightly glazed. "Mistress?" he croaked.
She smiled evilly, eyes slitted. "Fifty lashes if you come before I do." she coolly stated. Kulyar swallowed; he knew what she could do to him with fifty lashes. She closed her eyes and with excruciating languor impaled herself upon his shaft, wiggling her hips from side to side as she descended.
At that point, it became a competition: each strove to bring the other to orgasm. Tryssa had her Elven wiles and her amorous skill; all the Troll had was his desperate desire to serve... an uneven contest. He used every trick in his limited repertoire, but could not, in the end, hope to match her. Her hands clasping his to her hips, she rocked backwards and forwards, sitting comfortably in his lap; then with one hand, she reached behind her to grab him by the balls and squeeze with all her might, at the same time bearing down on him. With a shout, he was forced over the edge; she hugged him tightly, her knees pressing painfully into his ribs, squeezing convulsively, and even as he came, her cries told him that she'd beaten him by only a few seconds. She slid off him backwards, his erection released to flip up against his belly, spurting hot fluid in an arc. Shuddering, she swept her disarrayed hair from her eyes, leaned forward and snatched wildly at his penis, catching it by the head and tugging at it frantically. With each jerk, a fresh stream of liquid was forced from him, coating her forearm; as the jets diminished, she reached down with her other hand and drove her knuckles deep into his perineum. He screamed.
She fell forward and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with a desperate passion. Surprised, he returned her affections, his hands meeting behind her shoulder-blades, pressing her to his sweat- soaked chest.
He suddenly felt an unfamiliar emotion surging through him; when he identified it, he struggled with the concept, but finally had to admit, in a croaking whisper, "Mistress..."
She lay on top of him, alternating between taking vicious bites of and gently caressing, with her tongue, the bluntly-pointed tip of his ear. "Yes, Troll?" she murmured.
He paused, for what seemed (to him) an age, and then, barely audibly: "I love you." He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a reproving slap. When his punishment was not forthcoming, he dared open his eyes, to see her smiling down at him fondly.
"Oh, Troll," she sighed, hugging him, "I love you, also!" He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, taking care not to use his full strength for fear of cracking her ribs. They lay there for a long time, sharing their warmth, before she added, "Of course, that doesn't mean that you get out of that fifty lashes."
He smiled. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Much later, with his tunic buttoned crookedly, Kulyar stumbled back to his hole. On the way, he passed Lieutenant Jacyn who, noting his haggard expression, gave him a sympathetic slap on the back. Kulyar's response was a prolonged, heartfelt exhalation, something halfway between a groan and a sigh. Jacyn smiled wryly. He'd been there.
One evening, Tryssa was enjoying a bath, with Kulyar in attendance. He stood behind her, holding a jug half his size; by her command, he poured hot water from the jug over her head and practically writhed with desire as he watched her run her hands over her breasts, tweaking the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She smiled inwardly as she did this; they were playing the now-familiar game of teasing, breach of manners, punishment and (eventual) recompense. However, before Kulyar had time to think of an acceptable infringement (something not too un-slavelike and yet definitely punishment-worthy), a page announced the arrival of Prince Sephayr. Kulyar ushered the prince into the bath-chamber; a tall, sturdy looking Elf with brown, curly hair and beard. He bowed to Tryssa, swept his cap off and passed it to Kulyar, patting the Troll on the head.
"There's a good Troll." he said, without condescension. Kulyar grinned at the prince; they were, surprisingly, friends; as close as an Elf and a Troll could be, and often exchanged half-serious banter at the expense of each other's respective races. Sephayr turned to Tryssa, who was, even when up to her waist in sudsy water, sitting with a definite air of regality. Their eyes narrowed, and Kulyar could almost see both their attention spans narrow, to exclude everything else. Sephayr slowly approached the bath, stripping off articles of his clothing, not taking his eyes off her. She stared back at him defiantly; when he reached the edge of the bath, she held her arms out to him; he leaned over, embraced her and fell into the bath.
After a lingering kiss, Tryssa murmured to her Troll, "You needn't stay if you don't want to watch. I don't mind." Kulyar shrugged, repressing a grin. His only move was to place linen around the base of the tub, to mop up the water that would inevitably be spilled.
Some time later: "Troll – come here – yes... help me up... ah... yes, that's – ahhh..... oh..."
Later that evening, after Prince Sephayr had left to return to his Keep, Tryssa was cuddling her Troll in bed (Kulyar still thought of it as `teasing'). She lay on her back, one hand idly tracing a path from the centre of his chest down towards the base of his abdomen and back, occasionally stopping off to tweak one or the other of his nipples.
Suddenly, she asked him, "What do you think of Prince Sephayr?"
Kulyar paused, thought. "He's obviously a capable ruler. Intelligent. Considerate." He added the last after recalling how long the Elves had spent in the bath.
"You don't find him attractive?"
Kulyar snorted. "He's male, unless you hadn't noticed."
"...and you've never been attracted to another male?"
Kulyar paused again. "No." he replied, in a tone which implied `What have I done to suggest otherwise?'
"Are you certain?" she asked, her hand drifting down to touch his growing erection.
"I am certain," he said finally.
She flicked his stiffening member back and forth playfully. "As Synda often says: `Su-u-u-u-u-ure.'"
Kulyar sat up on his elbow and fixed Tryssa with a level glance. "I can assure you that I have never entertained the slightest... uh, I've never... um... please, mistress, I can't concentrate when you're doing that... ah..." As she fixed her mouth over the head of his penis, he fell back and conceded the point. "Well, I can't argue with that."
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