Thursday, October 14, 2004
Day 22
I was too tired in the morning to do much. I managed to do some warrior-type exercises in the early afternoon, but the main part of the day was always going to be our second visit to Mistress Indigo - and it proceeded very much the same way as our previous appointment.
And as soon as I was lying face-down on that leather-upholstered table, I could feel myself drifting off, as Mistress Indigo's hands massaged my back, and she hummed something, very quietly...
My dream continued from before, and I entered one of the caves, spear at the ready, expecting some hungry wildcat, some brown bear, a gladiator with a trap-net... but what I found was Flavion, sitting not far from a campfire, gently tapping on a pair of drums... a rhythm like a heartbeat. He was a year or two older than me, and I'd always thought he looked rather good - today, with his muscular chest and tight trousers, he looked exceptionally good to this tired would-be warrior.
"Flavion? But I thought these caves were - well, traps...?
"Charolia! Well chosen, my lovely! Some caves are traps, but I hope you will consider this one a treat!" He smiled, "Put down your javelin, for it is I who surrender to your beauty!" He gestured to some animal furs beside him. "Face it, sweet woman, today we've both got lucky!"
In my dream, I was agreeing with him, but the modern me wanted to scream, as the two figures kissed, embraced, and were soon lying on those furs, oblivious to everything except each other. For it was a trap, a trap of honey. I was so young, then, and innocent, and I didn't know that traps came in all sorts of guises.
Time blurred, and the dream leapt forward. I'd failed the test, and I left the tribe - Flavion left too, he'd decided there was a world to be seen outside our hills, and, with me at his side, he was confident he'd make his fortune. And it soon became clear how I could help him get rich - oh Flavion! It seemed so simple then. We needed money to live, and as outsiders in that town we couldn't earn it honestly, or so he told me... he was older than me, more wise to the world, and I believed him. After all, we were in love - weren't we?
So there I am, in a skirt so short it shows my panties, slit up the side too, and a top that enhanced rather than covered, plus sexy little shoes - where did Flavion get the money for all that, I wonder? And it's evening, and I'm just hanging around outside a tavern, waiting for Flavion to come out with his "new friend". Not that I'm an honest prostitute, oh no that wasn't Flavion's idea though, gods know, he could probably have talked me into it... The target tonight is Lord Gillaird, who's soon to be married, apparently, but still has a roving eye. He takes me back to his townhouse, I contrive to leave a door unlocked (I'd been shown, from across the street earlier, which one), and Flavion gets in, steals everything of value, and by the time the theft is discovered, when Gillaird awakens in the morning, we've both vanished, very possibly riding Gillaird's own horses. A few successes, little more than backstreet muggings when I led some randy local somewhere quiet for some "privacy", had made us over-confident...
Would Flavion have waited for me? To this day I don't know. The plan was moronic, Gillaird had servants who discovered the unlocked door almost as soon as I'd done it. A big bodyguard of a man burst in on Lord Gillaird as he was offering me wine, told him what I'd done... and I was dragged down into the cellar, and chained to the wall, while guards waited to see what rat would be taking the bait. Still in my stupid little skirt and humiliating little blouse...
"Charol...?" I was so glad to hear Memree's voice, to be woken from the nightmare before it could reach its worst part. The second day of Mistress Indigo's treatment was over; I was shaky on my legs, I felt cold - but this was my past, I was going to deal with it!
And as soon as I was lying face-down on that leather-upholstered table, I could feel myself drifting off, as Mistress Indigo's hands massaged my back, and she hummed something, very quietly...
My dream continued from before, and I entered one of the caves, spear at the ready, expecting some hungry wildcat, some brown bear, a gladiator with a trap-net... but what I found was Flavion, sitting not far from a campfire, gently tapping on a pair of drums... a rhythm like a heartbeat. He was a year or two older than me, and I'd always thought he looked rather good - today, with his muscular chest and tight trousers, he looked exceptionally good to this tired would-be warrior.
"Flavion? But I thought these caves were - well, traps...?
"Charolia! Well chosen, my lovely! Some caves are traps, but I hope you will consider this one a treat!" He smiled, "Put down your javelin, for it is I who surrender to your beauty!" He gestured to some animal furs beside him. "Face it, sweet woman, today we've both got lucky!"
In my dream, I was agreeing with him, but the modern me wanted to scream, as the two figures kissed, embraced, and were soon lying on those furs, oblivious to everything except each other. For it was a trap, a trap of honey. I was so young, then, and innocent, and I didn't know that traps came in all sorts of guises.
Time blurred, and the dream leapt forward. I'd failed the test, and I left the tribe - Flavion left too, he'd decided there was a world to be seen outside our hills, and, with me at his side, he was confident he'd make his fortune. And it soon became clear how I could help him get rich - oh Flavion! It seemed so simple then. We needed money to live, and as outsiders in that town we couldn't earn it honestly, or so he told me... he was older than me, more wise to the world, and I believed him. After all, we were in love - weren't we?
So there I am, in a skirt so short it shows my panties, slit up the side too, and a top that enhanced rather than covered, plus sexy little shoes - where did Flavion get the money for all that, I wonder? And it's evening, and I'm just hanging around outside a tavern, waiting for Flavion to come out with his "new friend". Not that I'm an honest prostitute, oh no that wasn't Flavion's idea though, gods know, he could probably have talked me into it... The target tonight is Lord Gillaird, who's soon to be married, apparently, but still has a roving eye. He takes me back to his townhouse, I contrive to leave a door unlocked (I'd been shown, from across the street earlier, which one), and Flavion gets in, steals everything of value, and by the time the theft is discovered, when Gillaird awakens in the morning, we've both vanished, very possibly riding Gillaird's own horses. A few successes, little more than backstreet muggings when I led some randy local somewhere quiet for some "privacy", had made us over-confident...
Would Flavion have waited for me? To this day I don't know. The plan was moronic, Gillaird had servants who discovered the unlocked door almost as soon as I'd done it. A big bodyguard of a man burst in on Lord Gillaird as he was offering me wine, told him what I'd done... and I was dragged down into the cellar, and chained to the wall, while guards waited to see what rat would be taking the bait. Still in my stupid little skirt and humiliating little blouse...
"Charol...?" I was so glad to hear Memree's voice, to be woken from the nightmare before it could reach its worst part. The second day of Mistress Indigo's treatment was over; I was shaky on my legs, I felt cold - but this was my past, I was going to deal with it!
