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From: leanna1@hotmail.com (LeAnna)
Subject: {ASSM} Milady by LeAnna [f/f, sub, hist]
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*WARNING*  You must be of legal age to view porn in your area to read
this.  Do _NOT_ repost or archive without author's permission.  If I
find yet another person reposting my stuff, I just might not post my
stories anymore.

Contact me at leanna1@hotmail.com -- and my archive is up at:
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Academy/2194/

[Milady by LeAnna]

	"That's good, Dalara.  Would you massage my feet, please,
honey?"  My Lady sighed, and held a hand up to her head.  Her
almond-shaped chocolate eyes fluttered shut as she sighed in
exhaustion.  She tilted her head back, her jaw forming a perfect
triangle of creamy brown skin set atop a bejeweled, graceful swan neck
as she gulped her drink, barely wincing with the sting of the liquor.
The air was laced with the heavy scent of perfumes and incenses, yet
not crassly so.  The gentle glow of candles danced across my Lady's
skin, caressing and holding her to darkness' bosom.  I watched,
entranced, as her neck muscles contracted when she swallowed.  It was
a beautiful sight to me.  

My concentration was broken.  "Pour another one for me, would you,
Dalara?"

	I nodded and murmured "Yes, Milady," hurrying over to the rich
oak bar and pouring sinuous liquid into a tall glass, watching
carefully as it sloshed down the smooth sides, listening to the
tinkling resonance it made.  It was a quiet day, and other than the
plinking of the liquor, the only sound was the marching of feet
outside the door and the chirping of insects outside the window.  I
pulled the bottle up when it reached halfway and lifted another carafe
of alcohol, mixing it in.  I then picked up yet another bottle of
thick fruity syrup, letting it cascade in a thick, sticky stream.  I
stirred the concoction and hurried back to my Lady.  She took it from
me hungrily, pouring most of it down her throat with a single gulp and
setting it aside on her table along with a growing pile of glasses.  

	She shifted on her vibrantly decorated silk-lined bed and
offered her feet to me.  I dropped to my knees and lifted her dress,
pushing it up past her delicate ankles.  My breath caught in my throat
and my heart pounded as I caught a view of her long, shapely legs
disappearing into the silky swaths of her dress, like a view of trees
so tall that they seemed to go forever into the clouds.  Even after
years of seeing my Lady in all her nude glory, I still had to force
myself to swallow my desire.  I was a servant.  She was a Lady.  My
desire had no place here.

	She shifted her legs, her dainty toes stretching.  "I know I
shouldn't be running about bare-legged around here, Dalara, but I know
I can trust you.  We're both women.  These men think they have an iron
grip on me.  They _wish_ they had an iron grip on me.  The things they
don't know, Dalara, the things they don't know."

	"You can trust me, Milady."  I spoke softly and smoothly, my
voice lilting in nurturing musical tones.  My Lady found it soothing
when I spoke as if I were about to sing.  Although she loved my voice
and had privately commented to me that she thought I sang better than
any of them, she rarely asked me to, because she had her own royal
singers of fine, noble blood.

	I put my hands firmly on her feet, being careful not to tickle
her, or caress her luscious skin, or to run my fingertips along her
leg.  I wanted to lean down and rest my cheek against the smooth
surface of her leg, to taste the skin that had thrilled me for years
from afar.  Her feet were delicate and fine-boned, the underside of
her foot a light shade of cream in contrast with the chocolate of the
rest of her body.  A mole rested on the skin right underneath and
between her little and middle toes.  I had admired it innumerable
times.  It was in exactly the right place to make her alluring and
mysterious.	

	My Lady arched her feet into my hands as I kneaded her flesh.
Her bones gave way under my skillful ministrations, crackling like a
blazing fire.  She moaned.  "Ahhhh... that feels so relaxing, Dalara.
You have been trained well."

	"Thank you, Milady."  I switched feet, tugging and pushing at
her flesh, easing her sore muscles, her weary tendons.  It seemed,
from the tightness, that she'd done more standing and walking today
than she was used to.  I briefly wondered what had happened.  My
fingertip brushed her ankle, and I froze, afraid she'd take it the
wrong way.

	"Continue, Dalara.  Please massage my calves.  I did quite a
bit of standing today, deliberating with the Lord's court."

	"As you wish, Milady."  I trembled and shook inside, my
stomach a quivering mass of butterflies.  I slid my hands up her calf.
Oh, her muscles!  Yielding yet firm under my touch.  Her warm skin
tones of brown were the same appealing shade of chocolate.  In the
flickering lamplight, shadows danced across her muscles.  I had to
fight myself not to caress her as I kneaded her tight knots.  It was
tempting, though -- too tempting.  I could barely resist.  I was
convinced, at that moment, that she knew what she was doing to me.

	"You, of course, know why I was in attendance of the Lord and
his court today."

	"I do not know why you were at the court, Milady."  I'd
wondered where she was.  The guards had come to get her much earlier
than usual today, much earlier than the start of the usual parties
that she hosted late into the night.

	Her voice cracked.  "They want to execute me, Dalara."

	Her foot almost slipped out between my fingers, and my heart
sank.  My Lady.  I didn't want to show my surprise and grief, so I
quickly ducked my head down, gazing at her smooth, shiny legs as I
massaged them.  They glinted and shone beautifully in the hundreds of
flickering candles that illuminated the room, and then blurred as I
blinked back tears.

	She laughed wryly, furiously blinking her eyes, turning her
head.  I looked into her drunken eyes for a fleeting second before
diverting my gaze again.  I should have seen it coming.  It was
feasible that deep inside, I had known, and turned a blind eye to it.
She'd been the Lady for five years, and still hadn't produced an heir.
I had seen it happen twice before -- my Lady in attendance would be
the third that the Lord had ordered executed.

	"Dalara, most Ladies would be ashamed of themselves, would be
honored to kneel at her Lord's feet and apologize for not being able
to bear the Lord's child, honored to grovel as he brings the halberd
down onto her neck."

	"It isn't your fault, Milady.  It suggests to me, since you
are the third wife that this has happened to, that it is rather his
fault for not being able to bear children."  The words slipped out
before I knew it, and I flushed, hoping I hadn't stepped out of line.

	"Yes, Dalara.  That's what I was thinking.  It hurts his
pride.  This is his way of trying to heal the wound.  Divorce is
wrong, Dalara, so the Lord fixes that problem by killing his wife.
One sin in exchange for another."  Her face was tightly drawn, her
lips trembling as she let each word slip from the mental prison they'd
been held in.  Despite her ill-controlled rage, she loosened up as I
released the tension from her muscles.  My trembling hands slipped and
grazed her knee.  She noticed.

	"I'm glad you care, Dalara."  She shifted, trying to give me
more room to work with.  She pulled her skirt up higher for me, and
then gave up with a sigh.

	"Dalara, please undress me.  I am uncomfortable."

	"As you wish, ma'am."  I got up, leaning over her to slip off
her clothing.  It was not an easy task with the layers of fine red and
gold fabric that surrounded her and engulfed her in its richness.  I
peeled off layer after layer, and she sat wordlessly, her face sad yet
proud, her chin still lifted high in the air.  Her eyes had a faraway
look in them, and she murmured almost to herself, "I should be
terrified.  But I'm not."  She took another drink from her nearly
empty glass.

	Oh, the richness.  Her supple, round body, bare before my
eyes, her long legs shifting and her thighs rubbing together, joined
by a dark patch of hair at their apex.  An unmistakable aroma wafted
from her genitals, blending with the scents of smoky incense and
liquor that permeated the room.  I blushed, my own genitals heating
with arousal at the redolence.  She seemed not to notice, but I knew
from my training that she most likely did.

	"All this because I can't give him a heir.  All I am is a heir
producer."  The sentence was sudden and seemed to betray the
melachonly silence of the chamber.

	"It isn't fair, Milady," I murmured in assent, unbuttoning her
blouse slowly and surely.  She rose up off of the pillows and lifted
her arms so I could remove her shirt.  She settled back down on the
pillows, completely nude.  I carefully folded my Lady's blouse.  The
silky fabric felt like liquid kissing my hands, and I stared at it,
coveting it, wanting it.  But when I glanced at my Lady, I forgot
about the blouse.  I coveted and wanted nothing more than her.  She
was certainly the fairest in the land, with her long hair that was as
black as the night sky.  Her eyes were deep and brown, and shone like
the stars, glittering and twinkling.  Her perfect breasts were
crescents rising from her chest, stiff nubs rising from her breasts.
The Lord didn't deserve this beauty.

	She saw the fire in my eyes.  "Am I womanly, Dalara?  Am I
woman enough to suit you, but not woman enough to suit my Lord?"

	"You're all woman, Milady," I murmured, diverting my eyes
away.  My face deepened with a hot flush, and I hurriedly went to
massage her calves again.

	"I'm not woman, Dalara.  I'm not woman enough to make a baby."

	"Don't think that, Milady," I protested, this time looking
straight into her orbs, my eyes darting about her delicate face.  "To
me, you're all woman.  You're the fairest in the land, Milady.  You
mustn't let the Lord make you feel this way."

	"Show me, Dalara.  I trust you have been trained well in the
sexual arts."

	"Yes, I have been, ma'am," I struggled to get the words out,
my spirit caught in my throat, my pulse pounding in my ears.  I felt
as if my heart would burst with excitement.  I started to bend between
her legs, climbing over the edge of the bed and coming closer to her.

	"No, Dalara.  Take your clothing off, please."  Her voice was
breathy.  I stood and pulled off my simple dress off, the cold air
creeping in to meet me as I exposed myself to my Lady.  Her eyes
widened in approval as her lips parted.

	"Ah, beautiful, Dalara."  She reached out her hand.  "Let me
touch you."

	I obliged her, nearly stumbling over my own feet as I came to
her.  She tickled her fingertips against my shoulder, and ran her
fingers down the front of my body.  My skin prickled as she touched my
chest, my breasts.  Her hand dallied a moment to cup a single breast,
squeezing my nipple.  I stood with weak knees, watching her expression
merge from pleased, to arousal, and back to pleased again.  Her
fingernails were long and hard, her fingertips round and smooth.  She
scratched along my belly, her touch soothing my skin.  She played with
my pubic hair, tickling my mound.  I closed my eyes and nearly let my
body sway with the sensation.  She slipped a long finger between my
puffy lips.

	"You're wet, Dalara," she noted, her eyebrows raised, a sly
grin on her full, carmine lips.  Indeed, I was wet.  Her finger moved
along the tip of my inner lips, more and more of my nectar collecting
on her fingertip with every calculated stroke.  My knees shook and
trembled.  Her finger brushed my clit.  A moan escaped from between my
lips.  She drew her finger away, and slipped it into her mouth,
forming an O around it with her lips.  She sucked my nectar off
hungrily, and I watched her, my mouth agape.  I swallowed hard.  I
wanted her so badly now.  She could see the fire set ablaze in my eyes
as she licked and sucked her finger.  

	"Mmmm.  Tastes good, Dalara.  I'd like you to do that to me."

	"Yes, Milady."  I couldn't get on the bed and between her legs
fast enough.  I slipped my hand up her thigh gingerly, afraid of
moving too fast.  My touch was tender as I crept closer and closer.

	"Don't be afraid, honey.  Touch me."  Her voice was soothing.
I kissed her thigh and ran my finger along the valley of her lips.  It
was well lubricated with her juices, slippery and smooth.  I could
smell her hot, quivering excitement.  She shifted her legs, pulling
her thighs further apart and thrusting herself toward me, encouraging
me.  I moved my kiss closer to the joining of her legs.  The scent
grew stronger, flooding my senses with its heady aroma.  My mouth
watered.  I could almost taste her slick elixir.  My finger, no longer
teasing and hesitant, delved between her lips and rimmed around her
hole.  Gently, I pushed the very tip of my finger inside, and her wet
flesh caught and contracted around me.  

	I gasped, and kissed the top of her leg, moving closer to the
gold mine.  I spread her lips apart and the tip of my lips found her
hot dampness, kissing her, smearing her juice along my lips.  I opened
my mouth and took an inflamed lip between my teeth, licking at it.  My
finger sank deeper inside her.  She pushed her hips at me, her gasp
audible when I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked.  Her slick
walls closed in around my finger, hungry for me, drawing me in.  I
opened my mouth and relaxed my tongue against her clit, letting my
soft flesh massage her.  Up, down, side to side, I licked her.  She
was delicious, sweet yet tart.  I could feast forever, but by the
bucking motion of her hips, it wasn't to be much longer.  I nearly
lost myself when I thought about her flame of a life, soon to be
smutted out.  So I reveled in the taste and motion while I could,
clinging to the last remaining fragment of my Lady.  

	"Oh, Dalara, oh, oh..." she moaned, her head whipping back and
forth.  Her toes clenched and pulled at the bed sheets, her legs
rising up and down.  Her moist bosom heaved in time with her pants and
grunts.  I made my motions more rhythmic, more stressed.  Her hands
flew out and clutched my head, her sweaty fingers gripping my hair,
pressing me harder against her.

	The doorknob clicked and turned.  The door swung open, and the
Lord stood in the doorway, the royal guards dressed in bright, silver
armor flanking him.  My Lady's head snapped to the side to look at
them.  I moved away from her on instinct, my thoughts reeling, and she
held my head tight, not letting me go.  I dared not move, so I stayed
at her behest, trembling on all fours, my face buried between her
legs.  Her face was stony, her eyes ice, her mouth set in a hard line.
She held herself up, proud, reveling in her nudity and beauty.

	"I will call for you when I am ready."  Her tone was low and
threatening.

	"It is time to go."  The Lord did not seem surprised, though
he did his best to unsuccessfully cover a growing flush.  He
straightened up, tall and regal, and glowered at my Lady.  She stared
angrily at him, unrelenting, unafraid.

	"I am still your Lady until I meet my death.  I will call for
you."

	The Lord's face grew furious at her defiance, but he did not
say anything.  He waved the guards away, and they marched off in a
cadence.  "I will stand here and wait for you to finish."

	Her voice did not waver.  "You will not.  Goodbye."

	He stood, shifting from foot to foot, an uncomfortable look on
his face.  Finally, he turned, slamming the door behind him.  She
turned her attention to me, and her fingers relaxed.  "Continue,
darling."

	I struggled to regain my composure, and got back into the
rhythm, relaxing my tongue once again against her clit.  Inside, I
quaked with feverish anxiety, but her arousal had hardly swayed with
the interruption.  I made my tongue rigid and slipped it between her
lips, where the delicious flavor was strongest.  She groaned and
pressed herself against me.  I rubbed my teeth against her clit, using
the pressure of her fingers on my head and the bucking of her hips to
find her personal rhythm.  I ran my tongue up and down, up and down,
along her slit, savoring the taste.  My tongue found her clit again,
and worked on it on a maddening rhythm, my own body responding
unbearably to her arousal.  

	Harder and harder, faster and faster, I worked, sensing that
her orgasm was barreling toward her like an untamed horse.  Finally, a
long, strung-out wail filled the room as she shouted her pleasure.
The tendons of her legs stood out as her body lifted off of the bed,
convulsing in orgasm again and again.  New, fresh taste flooded my
senses as I fought to keep her orgasm sustained.  Her wail turned into
frantic "oh!"s with every beat my tongue made, and finally, her hips
relaxed down, inch by inch, trembling.  Her intermittent "oh"s had
turned into a long, lazy moan of pure, golden pleasure.  Every muscle
in her body relaxed, and I continued to lick her, ever so gentle,
lapping up her juices and softly - softly! - massaging her clit,
easing her back to Earth.  Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her
forehead beaded with sweat.  

	"My god."  She lay there for a few moments, absorbing the
after-orgasm before she lifted her head to look at me.  "Dalara.  Come
here.  Press your body against mine."

	I did so, lifting my cum-covered face from between her legs.
I lay down on top of her, feeling her stiff nipples brush against my
own breasts.  The feeling of her open legs yielding wet warmth,
smearing it on my stomach, caused me to squirm in delight, and I
rubbed my stomach along her, biting my lip.  I thrust my sex up to
smear her liquid on my mound.  She pulled me forward to kiss me, her
lips traveling around my face, tasting her own cum.  My chin.  My
forehead.  My cheeks.  Finally, my lips, her tongue exploring my
mouth, running along my teeth.

	The door opened once again.  The Lord standing in the doorway,
once again with his guards to his sides.  "From the noise, I assume
you are done," he stated flatly.  "You may get dressed now."

	She gazed at him, her face a mask of hatred.  She'd loved him
once, I knew.  This was unforgivable to her.  I scurried over to where
I had set her clothes, and dressed her with care.  I spied a guard's
stoic face soften into hunger as his eyes traveled along my nude form.
I returned his gaze, mine laced with the bitter taste of hatred even
as I shivered with fear.

	My Lady was peerless in her beauty, her face flushed, the fire
of vitality still in her eyes.  She was dressed in her finest robes.
A fine attire to die in.  She caught my hand as I backed away
respectfully, and pulled me close, kissing me again, spiting and
scorning her Lord.  I looked on, a tear surfacing in my eye, as my
Lady swept away, her head held high and her eyes filled with pride.

---

Do you know the warm progress under the stars? 
Do you know we exist? 
Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom 
Have you been borne yet and are you alive? 

--Jim Morrison


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