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Date Posted: 01:28:19 12/18/01 Tue
Author: Tristan
Subject: Too hot to handle
In reply to: Corum & Yorik 's message, "A hot time tonight" on 19:57:48 12/17/01 Mon

“Mmm,” Tristan said, as he watched Marz toss his shirt off and begin ripping the bandages from his body. He continued to tread water, but he was practically purring with appreciation, his dark eyes narrowed into tiny slits while his lover teased the poor woman trying to wash her clothes. Once Marz had succeeded in wiggling out of his own clothing, however, she apparently couldn’t take it anymore, and hightailed it out of the place as fast as she could.

Tristan laughed at Marz’s comment, though the amusement died quickly enough. He was more than glad the woman had decided to make herself scarce, since watching Marz undress had made him realize there were much better ways to spend their time here than merely taking baths. For several minutes, they did a fair job of keeping each other very entertained, but both managed to pry their attention from one another to stare at the gaggle of women that suddenly approached the lakeside.

“We help you take baths, yes?” they all asked at the same time. Go away, Tristan wanted to say, his arms still holding Marz close to him, but his brain was busy focusing on other things, and he couldn’t quite get the words out. Besides, Marz looked way more than happy to receive their company! Needless to say, Tristan scarcely even protested as they managed to pull him apart from Marz, six of them surrounding him and tugging wildly at his clothing.

“N-no,” he said, his horror at the thought of being surrounded by so many women contrasting oddly with the rising desire their kisses brought to his body. They moved all over him, their lips touching places that had previously been visited only by Marz, and Tristan almost lost complete control of his own body.

His heart was beating wildly against his ribcage, the bones feeling as though they were constricting his lungs. Terror at being controlled by these women gripped him, continuing to mount with each passing second, keeping pace with the passion rising in his body as their kisses became even more frenzied.

“I hate them,” he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as if in fear. “I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!” He wanted to push them away, but he was completely powerless in their hands—and it didn’t help that he had a clear view of what the others were doing to Marz, and later Corum.

Tristan could never understand why he hated women, but he thought this must be it. How he could hate them yet desire their physical presence so much? They did that to men, he knew they did…made them slaves to passion, the way his mother had done to his father. Then when they’d had their fun, they turned and left, leaving the consequences of their actions, a baby nobody wanted, behind for someone else to care for.

The erotic sensations began to intensify as the women started to bite him, the feel of their bared little teeth a lot sharper than he would have guessed. At first, this only increased his pleasure-filled torture, but eventually, it began to hurt, and he couldn't help wondering if some of them weren't even drawing a little blood.

“Ow!” he cried, starting violently and losing some of the desire that had been continuously rising and falling within him. He couldn’t tell which one it was that had bit him this time, but it didn’t matter, as they all paid him no heed. When he felt an actual tug on the skin of his neck, he turned his head a little and savagely bit the pretty little creature on the chin. She hissed and narrowed her silver eyes at him before speaking rapidly in her own tongue. Before he could make a move to protest, he felt something cold and metallic snap around his wrist underwater.

“What the hell?” he muttered, trying to pull his arm above surface and cursing profusely when he realized the iron cuff was attached to a chain beneath the surface. With several more hisses and jeers, the women finally swam away from him, their strange colored eyes now turned toward the very center of the lake, which was beginning to bubble and boil as though something was rising in its depths.

“Ah, Marz?” he said, making the statement a question. He pulled on the chain even more, kicking his booted feet at the metal to no avail. Damn it! His sword had been tossed to the shore along with his clothes—and then the true horror of his situation hit him. With the iron band around his wrist, he couldn’t change, or else he’d snap the limb off in the process. “Oh shit,” he breathed, staring anxiously at the increasing amount of bubbles. “Shit, shit, shit!”

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