Miss Amphipolis
By
Xenalicious
Disclaimers: Hmmm… Okay, I thought I’d never have to use these particular disclaimers, being an Uber-all-the-way chick, but, who knew? Ok, Xena:Warrior Princess is a registered trademark of some other people (and not me), and I have no right to claim the characters from the above named show (nor would I want to – I just want to make them do naughty things). This story is not meant as a copyright infringment and will produce no monetary profit for me (though it could make me popular in certain circles…).
Right. What else? Oh, this is as PWP as PWPs come (no pun intended). No plot here whatsoever. Never even crossed my mind. I was just watching "Miss Amphipolis" again, and Xena in that tiny little white number, coupled with a few meaningful looks from Gabrielle, and… voila! I wrote my first (finished) Xena story.
I’d like to thank my partner in crime, Reneegade, for helping me proof the story.
All of that said, please enjoy.
*************
The beauty pageant was nearing the end and my nerves were fraying almost as rapidly as the seam on the ridiculous dress I was wearing. Like it wasn’t enough to suffer through Salmoneus singing that horrible ditty with a meek smile on my face, attempting to dodge clumsy bumblings of the other contestants on the stage during our dance try-outs, but now I was under a serious risk of losing what little lace and sheer silk I did have on me.
Add to that the frustration of not being anywhere nearer to solving the damned mystery behind who was trying to harm the contestants, and you got yourself an unhappy warrior princess. In heels, to boot.
I sighed, and decided a break was in order. Either that, or *I’d* break something soon. Salmoneus opened his mouth to protest as he saw me leave, but one look and he snapped his mouth shut. The man had the keenest survival instinct I had ever encountered.
Passing by the great hall, I could hear the sponsors of the other contestants arguing. Arrogant idiots. Gabrielle was sitting at the table with them, listening, but I from where I stood, I could see the red tinge around the tips of her ears. Oooh, they got her angry. I stepped out for a second from the curtain I was standing behind, and caught her gaze. She was so beautiful when she was angry, eyes flashing and lips drawn into a thin line. So much fire.
I knew that the humiliation these women were made to go through for the whims of the men who felt they owned them was driving her mad. But, we were here to stop a war, and we both had our roles to play for now – I, a contestant in the damned pageant, and she, my sponsor. We didn’t have to like it, but it was the only way to infiltrate the contest. In all honesty, I thought Gabrielle got the better part of the deal. Now I knew why she insisted I be the contestant when she could have as easily played the part. She must have known about the hideous outfits.
She nodded once in my direction, letting me know she saw me, and I retreated back behind the curtain. It seemed like the ‘conversation’ was drawing to an end. They seemed to be pretty much done threatening each other. The peace treaty these three men had signed with each other over a year ago was in jeopardy since each of them had entered their ‘girlfriend’ into the contest. Since then they’ve been at each other’s throats and there has been a number of accidents happening to the girls. Now they were in each other’s faces, cursing and swearing that if anything were to happen to their girl, there would be hell to pay. And of course, they were too busy bragging that theirs would be the girl to win.
"I have told my contestant she has to win! And she will!" That was the turbaned baboon from Mikos.
"Ha! I have told my girl she does not have to win… As long as she does not lose…" The smug bastard from Parnasos. "And you, my dear…" He was addressing Gabrielle. "What did you tell your contestant?"
She stared at him for a long moment and I already thought I’d have to make an impromptu appearance before she lunged at him. Really, sometimes I wish she could control her temper a bit better. Though, I looked at the way her chest rose with a deep breath she took to calm herself, I had to admit I loved her fire. She’d find a way to work out her frustration soon enough.
"I do not *tell* her anything." She said archly to the man who scoffed. She ignored him, looking behind him and catching my gaze. "I ask. We’re a team." I smiled at her and she looked back at the men who were disassembling.
The turban head from Mikos laughed, and threw back as he was leaving. "Yeah, sure. You do that, why don’t you dear. In the meantime, though, if anything happens to my contestant, that means war!"
Gabrielle stayed seated as they filed out of the room. Just as I was getting ready to join her, the ass from Parnasos came back into the room. I looked at him suspiciously, neither of those men would be above trying to harm her in order to get me out of the competition. Gabrielle turned her head to look at him.
"Say, Marchesa," he was fidgeting with his sleeves, and I just wished he’d get on it so the two of us could go back to our room. I needed to get out of these clothes as soon as possible. And people thought leather was uncomfortable. "That whole deal with asking for what you want, does it really work with your girl?"
She looked at him with a small smile playing at the edge of her lips, and then dropped her gaze down to her lap. When she looked back at him, one of her eyebrows was raised high in an unnerving imitation of my look, and her eyes were half lidded. When she spoke, her voice was deep, and fraught with meaning. "Oh, yes. It works *every* time."
The man’s eyes widened at that, and when he searched her face, he realized she had meant it exactly as it sounded. He guffawed heartily and barely restrained from slapping her on the shoulder, before turning on his heel and leaving. His departure was marked by his amused chuckles.
Well, wasn’t someone getting cocky? Maybe these men, with their preposterous proprietary posturing were rubbing off on her after all? I stepped up behind her, as she was still looking in the direction the man had left.
"It does work every time, doesn’t it Gabrielle?" I burred low in her ear, enjoying the slight shiver that followed my words. "You just didn’t tell him the asking part tends to involve a great deal of begging, usually…"
She whipped around angrily, but before she could say a word, I put my finger gently against her lips.
I should have known that wouldn’t stop her. She husked against my finger, her moist breath creating a return shiver to ripple through my body. "It does, doesn’t it? You up for it, Xena?"
I was playing with fire, but I thought it might be worth the risk. When Gabrielle was happy, she was good. But when Gabrielle was mad, she was… I still don’t know how she handled her frustration with me, or the world in general, before we… got intimate. That first time after we had started sleeping together and I got her really mad at me, leaving her behind with Joxer while I went ahead to fight a warlord, or some such thing, that had been such a surprise. I had returned to the camp at the end of the day, tired but relaxed, to find our bedrolls spread out and no trace of either her nor Joxer.
I had just taken off my breastplate and unsaddled Argo, when I heard her come out of the bushes. Before I had a chance to say as much as "Hi, how you’re doin’", I found myself pushed against the tree I was tying Argo to, face first, and her at my back. Before I had a chance to recover or get angry, she had kicked my feet apart, tore my breeches down and slammed her fingers into me. Hard. Deep.
"Don’t… you… ever… dare… dismiss… me… like that… ever… again!" Every word she had hissed into my neck had been punctuated by a thrust of her fingers. Had I not been ready the whole day for her, entertaining thoughts of her body and mouth that had kept me wet for a better part of the afternoon, it would have hurt. But instead, the combination of her newfound aggressiveness, roughness and utter surprise soon had me undone as I clawed the rough bark of the tree with the intensity of my release.
Once the shudders of my orgasm had abated, she had withdrawn her hand without preamble and stepped away, leaving me to sink to the ground, jellied knees unable to hold me upright. I had turned over, leaning against the tree and brushing back my sweaty bangs and pieces of bark stuck to my cheek. She was standing over me, breathing heavily, eyes blazing daggers at me, much as they were now.
Then she noticed a hollow gash on my left arm and sank to her knees next to me, gathering me in her arms with the gentleness I was used to. In truth, I had still been to overcome both with surprise and the orgasm to do much more than relax in her embrace. "Gods-be-damned, Xena, have you any idea how worried I was? Please don’t do that again."
And I hadn’t. If there was a time I had to leave her behind, I made sure she knew why and for how long. Though, since then, I have made sure to notice her frustration better and be ready to… help her deal with it. Sometimes, I will admit, I have purposefully added to it. Most of the time she knew what I was up to and I knew that she knew, but neither of us minded the game.
I simply raised my eyebrow in response to her question. A bit of playful condescension never hurt me before. It always got to her, though. "I have to check with Salmoneus about tonight’s schedule, Marchesa." The mocking way in which I said her made-up title did not escape her. "When I return to the room, maybe we’ll continue this conversation." It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t wait for an answer as I turned around and sashayed out of the room. I smiled to myself indulgently as I could feel her eyes burning into my back.
I came to the room shortly after, not wasting any time with the pesky little man. Salmoneus would have to deal with the contestants without me for a few hours.
I closed the door behind me, making sure it locked, and leaned against it, taking in the room. There were a few candles lit, just enough to cause flickering shadows to give every object in the room a life of its own. It didn’t take my eyes long to adjust to the gentle light, and when they did I knew my play was worth it. She was sitting in the middle of the room, her nude body enveloped by the large cushion of the oversized wicker-chair she was sitting in. Her feet were planted firmly on the floor, legs slightly spread, her elbows resting on the handrests, fingers stippled together in front of her face. She was looking at me.
I swallowed. Her hair was still pinned up from the way she had worn it the whole day, but a few loose strands escaped the hairpins and framed her face and bare shoulders. Her body seemed to capture candlelight, a play of shadow and light on the expanse of her skin.
I reached up and pulled off the blonde wig I had on, letting it slip to the floor. She was holding my gaze. I stepped out of the shoes I was wearing, and took a step forward, my hands raising again to rip off what little had been left of the white, gauzy dress I was wearing.
"No." The low command stopped both my advance and my hands. I let them drop down, tilting my head in a silent question. "Leave it on." I let a small smile grace my lips. So, she did want to play after all. She unlaced her fingers and beckoned me slowly forward, before letting them rest on the armrests.
I walked slowly towards her, clasping my hands behind my back and letting my hair cover my face partially. I knew all the steps of seduction, I had used them on many different people many times before, but with her, none of it was premeditated. With Gabrielle, it was an impulse, my body following a rhythm of the dance only the two of us knew the steps to. With her, every movement was done because I had to do it, not because I intended to. It was a seduction, she was the target and I had a goal, but none of it was conscious. Not with her.
I stopped in front of her, two steps away, realizing my hips were still gently swaying only when the wisps of the dress continued moving against my thighs. She inclined her head and I could literally feel her eyes blaze up a path from my feet, up my thighs, lingering on the swell of my breasts under the nearly see-through chiton, finally capturing my gaze. She was smoldering, and from where I stood, I could see the wetness between her open legs. She had taught me the meaning of thirst. I also knew that, when she was in the mood I brought her to, she was ruthless. And she was patient. And just the way she looked at me made my knees weak.
She inclined her head slightly, still holding my gaze, as if she was letting me know she approved. My palms were sweaty and I was glad I had kept them behind my back. She smiled then, just a curving of the right side of her lips, and I fought not to shudder. I could feel the wetness saturating the tight white breeches I was wearing.
Gabrielle spread her legs wider, her hands still casually splayed on the armrests and spoke again. "Come closer."
I swallowed, and took a careful step forward. It would not do if I were to sink to my knees now. Not yet. Another step and my knees brushed the insides of her thighs. We both closed our eyes at the feathery touch, but not before I could see her swollen outer lips twitch in reaction. The wetness between her legs made me lick my lips in reflex, and the scent of her made my nostrils twitch. It was always the signs of her arousal that undid me.
She moved forward slowly, sitting up, and now her face was less than a palm’s width away from the apex of my thighs. She closed her eyes again, inhaling deeply, and I had to squeeze my hands together to keep from placing them on her shoulders and pressing her against me.
When I felt her hand flutter against the inside of my knee, my hands did spring forward, but her gaze made me clutch them into fists and keep them against my sides. Her hand continued its torturously slow ascent up the inside of my thigh, but the only thing I could see was her upturned face, watching me, and the tips of her bare breasts that brushed against the soft material of my dress. My knees were shaking badly now, and the look in her eyes helped none.
Her fingers lightly brushed against the dampness of my underwear, and I gasped, closing my eyes. I could not hope for anything fast from her tonight, but still my hips surged at the touch. The sensation moved away, and then I felt her grasp the edge of my britches under my dress, where they tied on the side. Before I had the chance to open my eyes, I felt a cold edge of the knife slither over my skin and the garment gave away with a sigh, falling to the floor and leaving me exposed to the air in the room and the fire of her eyes.
I opened my eyes to see her slide the knife back under the cushion of the chair with a satisfied smile on her face. Then she placed both palms on the sides of my legs, moving up, sliding her hands up, under the dress, over my hips, burning her way up my skin, until she left them splayed around my waist. I rocked on my feet, unnerved by the fact that, while her hands were helping keep me upright, they were also making my knees weak. Her thumbs started drawing lazy circles on my abdomen, as she leaned back, holding me at arms length.
"I like you in this dress." Her voice was rough and low, and I knew I was the only one that heard her use it. I was the only one who caused it. "A touch of both whore and a goddess." She looked me up again. "Seems so gentle, so innocent in white." A blonde eyebrow went up. "And yet, I could smell you from across the room."
I balled up my fists tighter, closing my eyes. Every word she said left her mouth and attached itself to my skin, sliding down between my legs and burrowing deep inside, making me twitch in need. Yet, I knew that if I were to reach out for her, she’d only make me wait that much longer. Me and my bright ideas. Had I not played with her, we would both have been asleep with exhaustion by now.
I had been trying to focus on my breathing and bring it down from short gasps to something more conducive to self-control, but she’d have none of that. Leaving her left hand grasping my side, she brought her right one from under my dress and raised it slowly to her mouth, making sure I was watching her. She slid two of her fingers into her mouth, her eyes closing sensually at the same time her lips did, as she slowly sucked on the digits. I was swaying wildly by now, my hips having acquired the mind of their own, not realizing that the air sliding between my inflamed legs would provide no much needed friction.
Then she took her fingers out, moist and glistening and I watched her hand disappear below my dress again. She leaned forward again, filling my eyes with her face and breasts, and cutting off my view of her hand. I was trembling, and my gasps had turned loud and needy as I stared into her dilated pupils.
When her touch came, my hands flew up and caught purchase on her shoulders, my knees almost coming undone. She forked her fingers, letting them slide down the shaft of my clitoris and around my engorged lips, collecting my wetness and gently rubbing it into my sphincter before retracting. I gripped her shoulders, panting.
"Xeeenaaa…" It was low and melodious, but the warning in it was obvious. What did she expect I’d do? I was only human.
"Gabrielle… please… I can’t…" The words were simply not coming, my body still jerking with the aftershocks of the sudden touch.
"If you can’t stand by yourself, warrior, then kneel. But make sure you don’t touch me again unless I tell you to." A part of me still capable of it, registered the slight crack in her voice, and though I knew she was almost as bad off as I was, I was in no position to do anything about it. I was hardly coordinated enough to keep breathing at this point. I gratefully sank to my knees before her, letting my hands fall from her shoulders and gain purchase on the armrests of her chair.
She had leaned back in the chair, it big enough she was almost prone before me, and I could see the rapid rise of her chest for the first time. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her lower lip was caught by her teeth. She was magnificent. She let her arms hang loosely from the sides of the chair, and she took a deep breath.
I could not help myself as my eyes slid from her face, down the length of her body, her nipples hardened with arousal, skin shiny with perspiration, her stomach muscles rippling with the effort of containing her need, and then got tangled in the damp curls between her legs.
She watched me with an indulgent smile, and then spread her legs slightly and scooted forward, to the edge of the seat. I looked up for confirmation, not daring to hope, and shook with relief when I saw her nod her head.
There was no finesse in my movements, my head was burrowed between her legs before her head finished the up-and-down motion of the nod, and the feel of my tongue spearing her sent it slamming against the back of the chair. Her hands flew up and gripped mine on the armrests, and her hips moved, lifting her of the chair, spreading her wider for my mouth. "Oooh, Xena… Oh, Xena… Xena…" my name came out with a rasp every time she expelled her breath, but I paid it no heed. My intent was to claim every dot of her wetness until I forgot what thirst was. I needed more out of her, and for that I needed my hands.
I extracted them from under her grip, but she did not notice, her eyes were screwed shut, and her head was moving from side to side. I raised one of her legs and draped it over my shoulder, opening her wider, and then I used my hands to spread her wide, until all I could see before me was the glistening redness of her need. She was pulsating before me and I could hear her panting, and before her hands could buy purchase on my hair, I had my mouth on her again, rendering them useless. I understood the envy of the gods now. They would never know pleasure to which I was subjected now, no nectar, no ambrosia would ever come near to the bliss of her against my tongue.
Her moaning was constant now, punctuated only by sharp exhales every time I used the flat of my tongue across her clitoris. She had almost undone me, on purpose perhaps, and I was not capable of drawing out her climax at this point. I had to feel her contract around my fingers now. With that, I slammed two fingers in her, curving and twisting them inside her, before retracting and pumping them in again, and again. She arched her back with a howl, almost leaping off the chair, and this time her hands did tangle in my hair, holding me as close against her as possible.
I was sucking now, trying to take as much of her in as possible, my fingers brushing my chin with every thrust, and I felt her inner muscles gripping tighter by the second. Her legs were twitching, and I could tell by the rhythmic movement of her stomach muscles that she was there. I bit down gently on her clitoris and she folded in on herself with my name falling off her lips. "Oh, sweet… Xeeeenaaaaa!"
I turned my palm up, fingers still burrowed deep inside massaging contractions out of her, and her release flooded my palm. I bent down my head, drinking in her offering, and when I felt her breathing somewhat return to normal, I slowly extracted my fingers. She lay spent before me, eyes closed, one hand thrown across her face, damp tendrils of hair covering her shoulders. I stretched out and lay my cheek against her damp stomach, reveling in the smell of her and the wild beating of the pulse point between her legs. I was shaking.
I am not sure how long we stayed like that, me lulled into a light doze with the regularity of her breath under my ear. I slowly opened my eyes when I felt her hand run through my hair, smoothing damp bangs away from my forehead.
I raised my head slowly, resting my chin on the hand I splayed across her stomach, and met her eyes. She had the smallest of the sated smiles on her face, and there was a look of such love in her eyes, I felt they swallowed me whole. The depth of my hate, the pinnacle of my rage at my worst moments had never even come close to the magnitude of feeling I felt for this woman. Her hand slipped down and cupped my cheek, and I turned to lay a kiss on her palm. This was no time for words.
When she did speak, her voice was scratchy, but languid. "Can you stand?"
The look in my eyes must have been dubious at best, and she chuckled softly and said, slowly sitting up, "Oh, this is nowhere near finished, princess."
I shook my head in negation, but still made myself stand on shaky legs, swaying once more before her. She placed her hands on my hips, burning me through the cool silk of the dress, and pushed away gently, making room for her to stand up as well.
"Your turn to sit, love." I nodded with gratefulness, and lowered my lips, meeting her halfway for a soft kiss. It was almost chaste, lips gently grazing against each other, until she grasped my shoulders and moved away, stepping behind me and leaving me to face the chair and the wet stain that was left by her. "But," her hands were on my hips again, gently making me take a step forward, "I want you to kneel in it, just like that."
I looked over my shoulder, but followed her instructions, hoping my legs would keep me upright. My knees sank into the soft cushion, and I grasped the sturdy back of the chair in order to keep my balance. I kept my gaze firmly forward, but I could feel her staring at me though I could not feel her. My body took over again, and I threw my head back, letting my hair cascade down my arched back, jutting my barely covered ass towards her.
That had the desired effect, and I felt her hands on my hips, as she moved in behind me, nudging my feet apart until she stood between my legs, her pubic hair almost brushing my ass. She ran her hands up my back, over the damp silk of the dress, brushing my hair aside. Then, with a rip, the dress was gone, and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me at the feel of cool air against my skin.
"So beautiful." It was a murmur against the skin of my back, and I felt the heaviness of her breasts against my lower back before I felt the warmth of her lips between my shoulder blades. Her hands were on my shoulders, and she drew them down the length of me slowly, making her blunt fingernails leave trails of goosebumps along my skin. Sharp teeth sank into the sensitive skin of my back, and I bucked against her, my grip on the chair making the wood creak.
She slid her hands up the length of me again, from the front now, up my thighs, fluttering across my stomach and enveloping my breasts. The first touch was gentle, almost motherly, cupping my flesh in warm palms. When her fingers simultaneously pinched my nipples, I almost fell against the chair, but was able to catch myself at the last moment. "Gods!"
She was still pressed up against the length of me, and I could feel the flutter of her breath against my back. Her fingers were rolling my nipples, and all I could do was helplessly press myself back against her, hoping for some release, some relief from the heaviness between my legs. I was dripping, my wetness soaking the cushion below me, and my thighs were shaking under the strain of staying upright. I would not be able to take much more of this.
As if reading my thoughts, Gabrielle let go of my breasts, and moved away swiftly, but before I could whimper out my protest, her hands on my hips guided me backwards towards her, and this time I did fall forward when her tongue entered me. She was kneeling behind me, and her tongue would spear me, before retracting and running a slow path from my clitoris, down the length of me, to burrow in my sphincter. It was a slow, measured torture, meant to leave me begging, and I drew blood biting my lips, but was a loser from the start.
"Gods, Gabri… Oh, gods! Ple… Please, please, please…"
Right when all I had left to do was cry for mercy, she was pressed up against me again, her knee on the cushion between mine, pushing me into the chair. One hand sneaked in front of me, squeezing my nipple, and before I had a chance to wonder where the other was, she had three fingers buried in me, quickly stealing the capacity of thought from me. With every thrust of her hand from the front, she would push her hips against me from the back, taking even that responsibility from me. My pleasure tonight was going to be completely on her terms, and I had no will to try and fight it. My whole being was centered on those fingers reaching into me, palm rubbing against my clitoris, fingers sending shock waves from my nipple to my crotch.
I was grunting, and though her name was a mantra inside my head, no coherent speech would leave my lips now. Sweat was pouring off me, my wetness covered her hand down to her elbow, and I was so close, so close, and yet she gave me no reprieve. Then she leaned further forward, wrenching a cry from me, and whispered "Now, Xena."
Her teeth sank into the flesh of my shoulder blade and I bucked against her arm, around her fingers, falling against her with the force of my orgasm. She held me tight against her through the waves that racked my body, and when I slumped against her, sitting down on my heels, she extracted her fingers from me and slowly lowered us both to the floor. She used the tattered remains of my dress to gently wipe the sweat and cum off my body, before returning back with a blanket and wrapping us both in it.
My head lay pillowed on her breast as she held me, and as I drifted off to sleep with her hand sliding through my hair, I heard her murmur. "All you have to do is ask."
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