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Dark Mistress

Striding into the pool room with the smooth precise gait of a panther approaching a watering hole, the dark mistress glanced disinterested toward the groaning captives.

A teardrop ruby surrounded by a spray of lesser jewels in other shades of red hung between perfect black breasts never touched by the ungrateful teeth of brats. The twisted black iron wire of the setting barely visible against her midnight skin made the amulet look like bright blood splattered by some unfortunate prey. Around her slim waist, low on her smooth hips, wrapped the soft white shine of a fine siver chain. The delta of filigree and diamonds gently swinging from the chain made it impossible to guess what was hard mineral and what was downy white pelt. The disturbingly pale leather of her delicate sandals where her only rainment not of metal or gem.

With an aloof look of her raised eyebrow she questioned the hunter. He made a gesture of full respect, graceful yet powerful. "They came down your main stair, seeking... enlightenment." His expression was carefully devoid of emotion.

The mistress gently prodded the biggest of the captives where he knelt, dripping sweat and blood. He gasped at her light touch and doubled over further. She gazed a moment at the blood on her toes, lips slightly parted.

She gestured, encompassing the captives, the hunter and his men. "Should any die while they are in your care, you will take their place, my lord." She grinned, waiting, eager. When the hunter said nothing, did nothing but flush as dark as his black skin would allow, she laughed in real mirth.

Pirouetting in a tinkle of swirling white hair and glittering gems, she laughed, full throated like a lover or a madwoman, and fairly danced down the black corridor. The single pendant hanging from the back of her hip chain winking as it was alternately hidden and revealed by each step, each clenching and flexing of marvelous smooth flesh.

When he could no longer hear her, the hunter turned to his men. "Tend them. I will not be the first to replace any who die." When his men, as angry and grim as he, turned their hand to aiding those they had just hurt, the hunter hissed in disgust. This one was almost dead already! Such soft creatures.

Unstopping a precious vial of healing, he forced it down the captive's throat. Watching, he grunted when the worst of the bleeding stopped. Standing, he replaced the empty vial in among the poisons and stranger things.

"Strip them, wash them, feed them and watch them." He stared into the glittering light reflected in the pool until they were gone and his breath alone stirred the air. Then he knelt and washed his hands, swirls of pink spreading and sinking toward the outlet.

Soon he would need to wash his hands of more blood. The soft surface dwellers were what he needed.

Soon he would be free of his sister.

First Release: 
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