Night surrounds him, embracing him like a black blanket, holding to him in
its arms, holding him in its embrace. The only sounds of the room are of him
– his breathing, the slight shifting of his sleeping body.

The day had been long, his mission taking days – without sleep, without
nourishment; the only thing sustaining him was his anger, determination, his
loyalty to his Master and his Order, and the Darkside. It had punished his
body, straining his mind, and stamina. Successful in his mission, his Master
presented him with the promise of a gift, but left it unstated as to what he
was to receive, for fulfilling his mission to his Master's liking.

The air is like velvet, and sweet with inscences, the smoke still wafting
through the room like a ghostly apparition. The door to his room opens with
a soft whoosh. His eyes shoot open, his senses heightened and searching out
for danger.

He remains motionless as a cloaked dark figure cautiously enters, glancing
back over her shoulder for a moment then continues in, the door closing
immediately behind her.

The room is dark; the only light of the room is that which passes through
the large circular transparisteel window, falling upon the large bed beneath
it, where she catches sight of a single figure lying upon it.

He can sense great fear, nervousness and the mind of one innocent and pure
of heart and body. And then a soft subtle scent enters his nostrils - a mix
of delicate flowers, fruits, oils and spices – natural and unnatural.
Instantly his senses tell him that the being that had entered his bedchamber
is that of a female – human according to a familiar scent atom only humans
have. Human and female, and her eyes are upon him as he lies motionless – as
if asleep, upon his bed.

He can hear the soft running of the soles of her shoes against the carpet
of the room, the sounds of the train of her cloak up on the floor, the
rustle of her gown beneath it. He can hear her heart beating wildly, he can
hear her breathe. She moves closer with great caution, unsure as to what to
do.

Even without the use of the Force, he knows why she is there – she is the
gift his Master had promised him. How unexpected, and a very special gift
his Master has bestowed upon him.

He shifts in his bed, and slowly, he rises up in place, the black sheets
slipping to about his waist as he turns his head in the direction of the
woman that has been sent to his room, sent to him as a gift.

Instantly he hears the dark figure gasp in fear, halting in her tracks as
her eyes look wide upon him – he can see the hint of the light coming
through the window upon her soft pale skin - he can see better in darkness
than any other creature is able. But the edge of her dark hood hides her
face from his eyes.

He rises from the bed, his eyes not once moving from the woman standing
like a statue no more than ten feet away. He hears her quick intake of
breath as the light from the window behind him frames him in a brilliant
white aura – she cannot fully see him, except that he is tall, and fairly
muscular.

His footsteps are silent as he moves toward her, his hands at his sides,
body bare except for the pair of light loose pants he wears. And then he
stands before her no more than mere feet, his eyes burning into the hood
that hides the face of the woman his Master has given to him.

She draws her trembling hands to her chest; her hooded head turned to one
side, yet he can feel her eyes upon him, burning him where her eyes fall. He
can taste her fear in the air - it is sweet and adds a certain appeal to
her.

Now, standing before her, he can taste her in the air – sweet like ferra
berries and gindra fruit, sweet luna flowers and her own natural feminine
scent mixed with it. And he finds himself aching to taste her skin.

Slowly, he begins to move, circling her slowly, allowing his senses to
inspect the woman standing before him in his bedchamber. He caresses her
mind with his own, finding the mind of a frightened young woman terrified
and unsure.

Her innocence excites him, yet he keeps his body under control, allowing
himself to savor the gift his Master has given him.

He inhales a deep breath, her scent filling his nostrils and lungs,
sending his senses into euphoria and his body tingling with anticipation and
arousal. She will do very well – his Master has chosen well.

He stops, coming to stand behind the woman, his eyes burning through the
cloak, the fabric of her gown and straight into her very being. Slowly, with
silent movements, he moves toward her – his body almost against hers. He
raises his hands, and carefully, he grasps the back of black hood, pulling
it back, revealing reflective, soft brunette hair styled up against the back
of her head in beautiful soft braids.

She gasps, but to anyone else, it would have been inaudible, yet he hears
it clearly.

Her shoulders instantly tense as the back of her head and bare neck is
revealed to the man standing behind her. The hairs on the nape of her neck
rise as if touched.

Quickly she holds back a cry of fear as she feels the intimate closeness
of him, his lips nearing her ear, feeling his hot breath against her skin,
bringing shiver bumps to rise upon her skin. But the tears could not be held
back any longer and they begin to fall from her eyes like rain.

Her hands clasped against her chest, her nails begin to dig into her skin,
almost enough to bring blood. And then she feels the man place his hands
upon the sides of her head, his fingers grasping at the pins holding her
hair in place against the back of her head. The instantly her hair cascades
down against her back like water, the moment the pins are removed.

She then feels him run his fingertips over the length of her hair, he then
takes hold of a soft braid and then she hears his soft inhale of breath –
the braid in his hands, inhaling its scent.

"My…my Lord, your Master has sent me to you. I am yours to do with as you
wish." The woman speaks, finding strength and courage enough to finally
speak the words that are in her head – what she was told to say.

She hears nothing but her own heartbeat in her ears and what little sounds
that he makes. A hard shiver racks her body, jerking slightly backward, her
body pressing against his suddenly, sending a white-hot spark to shoot
throughout her body. And the moment her body touches his, his hands grasp
hold of her shoulders, holding her to him, not allowing her to move away
from him.

Her fear keeps her from pulling away, afraid of what he might do if she
tried.

As he holds her against his body, he runs his hands along her arms,
slipping his long arms about her as his hands touch the soft delicate skin
of the back of her right hand. He feels her fingertips, and her nails
digging into her skin with fear. He grasps hold of her right hand, slipping
his fingers about it and holding to her hand, he removes her hand from the
grasp of the other, out, away and back toward him over her shoulder.

She closes her eyes, unsure, afraid, sensing how dangerous the man is, how
powerful his body is against hers, how strong he is as he holds her hand in
his.

His touch is hot – hotter than that of any normal human and it instantly
sears her skin. As he holds her hand back over her shoulder, can immediately
smells the sent of blood – minute, but enough and in the dim light of the
room, he can easily see the tiny streams of red blood running down her hand
to her forearm.

She lets out a softly cried moan as she feels the tip of his slick hot
tongue flick at the stream of blood. Trailing his tongue up her arm to her
wrist where he lingers, he begins to suckle upon the inside of her wrist,
bringing a hard exhale to the woman's lips, shuddering softly against his
body. Then he moves to her hand in his, licking up the trail of blood to the
places where they emanate through her soft skin.

She cannot help but close her eyes as sensations unimaginable flashes
throughout her body by just his touch. Letting out a shuddered breath, she
can feel his heart beat through his chest against her back – hard, strong
and full of life.

"* Who is this man that touches me so? His touch is like fire – hot and
sweet like the early summer morn, the dew upon the leaves and grasses of
where I had lived all my life. Then his Master came and took me from my home
and brought me here – as a gift to this man who is unlike anyone or anything
I have ever met before. *"

He kisses her fingertips, licking away the traces of blood. And then, he
gently opens her hand and she lets out a frightened gasp as he places her
hand upon the side of his face, letting her feel the true heat of his body,
the softness of his skin. But she feels something…something that is not of
skin, something no human is known to have – it is short, blunt but roundedly
sharp, and it emerges from the temple of his head, just above and before his
ear.

"* A horn?! *"

But as her fingertips just grazed the base, she feels his body tense
against her back, and she hears the faintest of a moan slip from his lips
behind her. He gasped when she touched the skin at the base of his horn and
wondering what might happen if she purposefully touches the skin, she runs
her index finger over the skin. Instantly his hand releases hers and his
arms are about her grasping for the clasp holding her cloak securely closed.
And before her mind has time to process what is happening, her cloak she
being removed from about her – then seeing it thrown across the room away
from them, disappearing in the darkness that envelopes the circumference of
the room.

He then grasps hold of her right arm and suddenly she finds herself
spinning about…and instantly looking into eyes that look like fire and are
just as intense – golden yellow and blood red that burns brilliantly as she
finds herself trapped in his eyes, unable to see anything else but.

Her eyes gape wide, terror coursing through her veins and burn her senses
like fire, for what she looks upon is the face of a man she would think to
be that of a daemon from the ancient history of her people. His face is
utterly covered in red and black, set in jagged, ritual, ceremonial or
tribal designs set in his skin – making him appear a serpentine animal. The
tattooing traces up his forehead, and surround three pairs of horns twice
the size of the one she had felt – the one upon the side of his head
perfectly devoid of hair.

Her eyes wander down his neck to his bare chest, more red and black
designs upon skin covering well shaped muscles and his arms bare similar
designs aswell.

She can see a grin of pleasure playing upon his lips; his eyes look upon
her…no, into her – straight into her – to her very essence. She shivers
suddenly at feeling so translucent to him, to his eyes.

She feels a tear slip from her eye and trickle down her cheek. Quickly she
tenses with fear as he moves closer to her and closing her eyes, awaiting
her fate – no matter what it may be. Her breath catches in her throat as she
feels his slick hot tongue catch the tear and slowly run up to her eye where
she kisses her trembling lid with a feather soft kiss.

He does not move away, she can feel the moist heat of his breath upon her
face, hear his breath as he breathes, and she suddenly finds it odd that she
realizes his breath to be clean and sweet – though alien.

She does not know what to do, she is terrified of the man holding her in
his strong arms, and crushing her breasts between them he holds her so
close.

She lets a soft whimper, unable to breathe though his embrace is not hard.

His arms drop from about her and he steps away, leaving her trembling and
swaying in place with a sudden surge of dizziness.

Part III

She lets out a soft whimper, feeling like she stands all alone in the
center of a crowd hidden in shadow, their eyes looking her over…feeling like
she stands as naked as the day she was born. But she still senses him inside
the room…somewhere close and she can feel his eyes upon her, watching her.

"* Courage…use your fear – it will give you strength. *" She hears a voice
speak in her mind, feeling a wave of strength and ease slowly run down her
from the top of her head, down to her toes, then back up. And with it, she
closes her eyes, takes a slow deep breath, centering her mind as she clears
her thoughts.

Lowering her hands to her sides, she raises her head, taking another
relaxing breath and slowly, she opens her eyes.

She sees what she had seen before, the darkness, and the large bed under
the circular window…and she finally notices the wafting scented smoke about
the room. It smells of spice, sandalwood and some other scent unfamiliar to
her, but is quite lovely nevertheless.

Raising her hands before her, she looks over her hand, seeing the wounds
her nails had caused, seeing the remainder of the dark blood his tongue had
missed upon her pale skin. Then placing her other hand over her wounds, she
closes her eyes, concentrating.

After a few moments, she opens her eyes, and looking upon her hands, she
smiles softly, but she does not forget the man that is still within the
room.

"My Lord…"

"Remove your clothing." She suddenly hears a voice speak from the darkness
just to her right. It, the voice, is dark, low and soft…like the Tears of
Comra – liquid velvet.

The voice…the male voice brings a sudden jolting ache deep within her, and
she finds she wishes to hear it again. But what the voice had told her to do
fills her with great nervousness and fear…she has never before in her life
undressed before anyone – especially a male. But she summons all the courage
she has.

"Yes…yes, as you so wish my Lord." She replies, a quiver of fear in soft
her voice. But she can feel his pleasure at her reply, the grin upon his
face, his fiery eyes shinning as they watch her without blinking.

With another deep breath, she raises her hands to the collar of her gown,
unfastening it, and slowly, cautiously, one by one, she unfastens the tiny
buttons keeping the front of her gown securely closed.

As she reaches her breasts, she hesitates, modesty and fear freezing her
mind and her hands. She keeps her eyes downcast, upon her hands, no sure
what to do, afraid of what is to come…afraid that he may kill her once he
has had his fun.

"I will not harm you…now, continue." The sultry male voice speaks from the
darkness of the room, as if hearing her thoughts, sensing her fears. His
voice brings a soft gasp to her lips, the jolted ache being felt again, but
ever more intense.

She moves her hands slow, unfastening the buttons between her breasts,
down over her stomach and down her belly, coming to the last button.
Removing her hands from the last button, but she can not go any farther, for
it takes two to get into the gown, and it will take two to remove it.

"My…my Lord…" And before she could say another word, he appears before her
suddenly, his liquid fire eyes looking down into hers as his hands slip
about her waist and behind her back to unlace the laces at the back of her
gown.

Her breath catches in her throat, unable to breathe for his eyes – his
mere nearness takes her breath away. She trembles in fear as his hands work
quickly to undo the laces of her gown.

He stands so close…so close that she can feel the heat of his body against
her barely exposed skin and it brings a shiver to race down and back up her
spine – almost bringing a gasp to her lips. But all that comes is silence…an
audible breath.

His arms under hers, she unknowingly places her hands upon his shoulders,
slowly noticing the hard muscles moving under her hands, the hot soft skin.
It startles her as she realizes where her hands lie, but she does not move
them, finding herself unable to…not wanting to.

Slowly he slips his arms from about her, pulling the single lace from its
last loophole, dropping it to the floor at their feet, the gown instantly
loosening about her slender frame.

And in one swift move, the shoulders of the gown slip from her shoulders
about her arms. He steps away from her, watching as she lowers her arms to
her sides, allowing the sleeves to slip down her arms as her gown slips over
her rear, and then, it falls to the floor about her feet, her naked body
revealed to him in full.

As bare and as pure as the day of her birth, his eyes slowly wander over
her frame, the mere touch of his eyes burning her where his eyes wander.

She lets out a shuddered sigh, her eyes falling to the floor, her arms at
her sides, afraid that if she wrapped them about her to hide herself from
him in all modesty, he would become angered. And she can sense that the man
standing before her is one not to anger or you are to tempt death itself.

His eyes caress her, touch her in ways she has never experienced before
and it frightens her terribly.

Suddenly he moves forward, nearing her and even though all her senses go
wild with approaching danger, to move away, she remains where she stands.
And as he stands before her, she feels his fingers take hold of her chin and
raise her attention to him.

Her eyes hold to his, her lashes fluttering in fear, she sees a soft grin
cross his face and then he moves closer. He slips his arms about her waist,
gliding his hands over the warm soft skin, pulling her closer to him until
her body is against his.

She quickly notices the great warmth and softness of his skin, the
strength of his body. She cannot stop the sigh that slips from her lips;
feeling an urge foreign deep within and consuming her slowly like a great
wildfire.

"You are my gift, and gifts are objects to be treasured. But I shall
treasure you most of all."

And with that, he lowers his head to her and she then feels the touch of
his soft lips against hers - tender and gentle, filled with growing passion.

She cannot breathe, unable to for her senses suddenly escape her control,
the world spiraling about her as his lips part slightly to let his tongue
slip through to touch her lips for entrance. Without hesitation, she bids
him enter and his touch probes her mouth slowly, tasting her and her held
breath, then touching her hot tongue, teasing it to play.

A fire unlike she has not felt before begins to roar within her, passions
beyond imagine fill her body, images forbidden enter her mind.

"* What…what is he doing to me…what is happening to me? I cannot control
myself, he has me totally under his power and will. *"

She can think, but her mind does not focus well as images most erotic
catch her thoughts. She can feel herself slipping away, entering another
world – another state of being…and all she can do, all she can think about
is him, what he is doing to her and the anticipation she feels…and wanting
more, much, much more.

Continued in Part IV

Updated 7/18/02