Idressa perched on the edge of her bed, barely able to sit still from excitement. She wanted to pace around the room, or possibly run around giggling like a little girl. She wanted to roll on her back with her legs in the air, masturbating at the thought of what was to come.
A letter lay on her dresser, a letter informing her that one of her favourite clients was on his way. Not that most people would relish a visit from Morganth the Red, the infamous sorcerer-pirate, a reaver infamous for his practice of black magic and infernalism, and for his seduction and ravishment of women. A dozen kingdoms had put a price on his head (and it was rumoured that the Amazon Queen would pay well for his cock nailed to a wall), but he and his crew slipped through navel blockades like a phantom. It was only in a free and anarchic port like Kaenor that he could dock without risking his life, to sell his booty and slaves.
And when he came to Kaenor, he always found time to visit ‘The Dragon’s Lover’. Many of the girls feared him for his cold, ruthless cruelty and the savage, callous way he used them. But Idressa adored him for it. Just the sensation of his dark, cold gaze on her, looking at her like she was simply a piece of meat for him to satisfy his urges on, was often enough to make her juices flow freely, and on occasion a particularly scornful, degrading comment had been known to actually make her cum helplessly. She loved him for it, and he in turn favoured her above the other girls of the brothel
And the things he did to her! Once they were in her room, or one of the other private places in the ‘Lover’, he would unleash perversions of lust and magic that only his brilliant mind could conceive. His demeanour was always clinical and detached, but often when he took her Idressa could detect an ember of passion burning hot in the depths of his soul, and it thrilled her to fan its flames.
The outfit she wore to greet him had been carefully selected to appeal to his tastes. It appeared simple, a dress of white silk cut innocently high at the top, reaching to her neck in a tight collar, but which ended barely under the curve of her ass. If she bent over, anyone behind her would be able to see her pussy-lips peeking out between her thighs. The dress’s surface was sown with tiny rubies that traced intricate patterns across its surface. The subtle, tasteful display of wealth would appeal to Captain Morganth.
The door to her room began to creak open, and her breath caught in anticipation. |