Relent<
1st Level Yellow Feather
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- Sep 8, 2005
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((I'm going to post a sort of synopsis of the last few pages of the Day 4 thread. This first post is going to be pretty long.))
(Val) The notary had asked Minh what she would like in return for "questioning" Katrina. Minh tugged at her cheap pendant watch and replied, "I could use a watch that keeps time better than this one." She wanted to add that she also wouldn't mind having the services of the acrobat Marcy as a personal toy for a while, but, not knowing the notary well, thought better of it.
(R<) "Is that all?" He scoffed, almost incredulously. Mihn was either incredibly merciful in these proceedings, or so satisfied by the work itself that she hadn't any greater desires.
"I must say, I wasn't expecting something so...simple. Not that I'm complaining. We can take a walk through jewelery store in town, and see if there's anything that suits your taste. Otherwise, we can always wait until we get to London or Paris and find a 'Tiffany and Co.' for you to peruse." He grabbed the lock-box from a drawer, and folded his jacket over it as he approached the door. "Are you sure that there's nothing more? The phauxnorse is not an easy mark, even for you."
(Carnivore) (Oh, the cliché! A french maid! Eh, I'm up for it. And it is established that Isis speaks a Caribbean accented French. Being lazy, I'm just going to go with <french> for foreign dialogue.)
Isis turned around at the knock on the door, and subsequent entrance of a maid. Still holding the bouquet in her hands, Isis looked at the woman curiously. She held a basket full of towels and bottles in one hand, and with the other she was covering her eyes. Was it the custom of this inn to have the maids clean it one-handed and blind? She also seemed terribly apologetic about it. Not having run into maids, Isis was not accostomed to the practice of only cleaning a room when the occupants were out.
<Sorry for what, that you're paid to clean the room? If that's your job you should do it now rather than later shouldn't you?> She spoke in her colonially accented French, responding in kind to what was either an Aygomen or Parisian french accent. Though she'd never admit it, frankly Isis could not tell the difference, having heard only her own her whole life. Isis gestured her in, before realizing she couldn't see her. Sighing a little at the confusing behavior, she walked over to her, lightly but forcefully grabbing her upper arm with a damp hand and pulling her fully into the room, closing the door behind her. <Come in, come in then! Besides, this room could use a change of towels and a good dusting.>
Deciding to let the maid get to her work, or at least make up her mind if it wasn't already made up for her, Isis moved away, looking for a place to set her flowers. Taking a last whiff of the aroma, she found a vase on top of the bed's headboard. Reaching out over the bed, she set her flowers, a damp knee leaving a wet spot on the bed where she knelt.
(R<) The maid, forced to look at the half naked guest, squinted, resisting the urge to close her eyes completely. As Isis tended to her flowers, she still resisted looking at her directly, focusing on the furniture nearest herself, and the instructions she'd just been given. She wasn't altogether embarassed by these circumstances--as she'd seen the interior of many a locker room with much exposed tenants than this--but propriety insisted that she preserve the modesty of her guest.
Taking a feather duster from her cleaning basket, she flitted the fronds over the end table, the armoire, and the desk. She worked quickly, but thoroughly, hoping that at some point Isis would return to the bathroom or wherever it was she'd come from in such a state of nudity so that she might do her job more conventionally. Still, after having quickly finished the other fixtures, the only one that remained was the bed, on which Isis was presently seated. She stepped toward the fixture, with a sidelong glance, and a slightly raised hand to shield her eyes as if approaching some great radiance. She extended her other hand, with the feather duster toward the bed, and flickered the feathers back and forth until she felt it contact something--which she assumed to be the bed's foot-board.
(Carn) Having placed her flowers, Isis began drying herself off fully. Taking the towels wrapped around her, she dried her skin quickly but carefully, still kneeling on the bed… until she felt something very soft brush against her left foot. Whatever it was tickled terribly, and the surprise of it made Isis drop her towels onto the floor. Thankfully she was almost entirely dry by this point. Turning her head, she saw the odd self-blinding maid tickling her foot with her feather duster! The feathers brushing against her skin actually felt rather pleasant, but it tickled her terribly.
Biting her lip and stifling her reaction, Isis watched the maid blindly "dust" her. The girl's actions seemed clumsy and inept rather than flirtatious, and Isis again wondered what inn would make maids clean this way. Part of her was tempted to keep her foot out for as long as possible, and just let the maid gently and unwittingly tickle her until she couldn't keep silent anymore, as if she were some statue being dusted. But her reluctantly pulled her foot away from the duster and let the maid do her work. Isis laid sideways on the big bed, flat on her back, and attempted to regain her composure. She didn't want the maid to think she was laughing at her once she asked her another question.
(R<) The maid, flitted her duster to and fro until she decided that the footboard was sufficiently clean, and made her way along the bed's edge, dusting what she assumed to be the frame. She backed up, her hand still in position, unseen to her the duster beginning to flit aimlessly over Isis's legs and bum.
She noticed Isis's feet in passing, slightly more pink about the soles than she'd "not-seen" before, and as she continued her blind task, she noticed that Isis's body squirmed somewhat, though no sounds or full withdrawal from her was made. Was she watching her work? What interest could a simple dusting hold? It wasn't exactly a riveting spectator sport, after all. Bashfully, she considered that possibility that she was being secretly admired...
Her duster came across Isis lower back, and over her hip.
(Carn) Isis had little time to recover. As soon as the tickly feeling left her feet, the feather duster returned, drifting over the smooth skin of her thighs. Before she could even react, the duster moved to her rear, drifting back and forth along her near side. The maid acted as if she were blissfully unaware of what she was doing. Isis again tried to restrain herself from laughing, although it became harder and harder to do with each wispy stroke of the feathers along so much sensitive skin. She squirmed and wriggled in place, but tried her best to keep her composure.
Internally, she was at war. A part of her was elated at the ticklish attention, and the feathers made that part of her grow with each brush. Oh, to simply lie here and be ticklishly brushed! To be softly stroked with those feathers until she burst... but there was another more rational part of her that was trying to figure out why. Surely the maid couldn't be so simple as to be unaware of what she was doing, even if she had her eyes covered? Isis realized the maid was probably flirting with her, teasing her under the guise of having to do her job under such strange conditions. Such a strange game, where no one admitted it was even going on... but the thought tickled her fancy even as the feathers tickled her hip and rear, causing her to flinch, her stomach to shake with suppressed laughter. If she opened her mouth now she'd barely be able to say anything.
Isis decided there was one way to be completely sure of the maid's attentions. Isis summoned all her remaining composure and stretched her form out across the bed, bringing her arms up behind her hair. Her tall, statuesque body was pulled taut, all her ticklish parts exposed and completely vulnerable to the maid's attentions. Isis was sure she was making herself completely irresistible, if that was the maid's intent. If the girl kept going, she'd have her answer, and perhaps a wonderful way to pass the afternoon.
(R<) The maid continued her feather dusting, watching Isis's body writhe soundlessly from the knee and lower. As she proceeded higher, she realized that her implement had reached a sort of...convex? Bed frames didn't have convexes...Was she...?
She couldn't bring herself to look, but the more she felt the shape with her duster, the more sensible the guest's movements became. The movement of her toes and legs, squirming to and fro in time with the slightest movements of her hand...And then, she watched her legs as she rolled over.
Her duster must then...be...
"Oh my..." she sighed, slowly moving her duster across what must surely be her guest's exposed mound; her face becoming rather red as she continued, and a small smile creeping across her face.
(Carn) Isis could hardly believe the bold actions of this strange maid. The feathers crawled across her hips, dragged their tips devilishly across her waist... and then teased her very womanhood. Isis shuddered as the duster made contact with the bare Eboniaan skin, free of any clothing or hair. The maid's actions answered all of hers in the least subtle of ways. Isis gave in completely to her desires, wriggling joyously under the feathers, taking in the sensation with an electric glee. The maid moved her soft weapon with an evil simplicity, slowly stroking in a way that was just too much to take, leaving Isis almost begging for more. “Oh, yes! Oh please, give me more! No wait, keep it just like this! The way she teases me is so unbearable... I hope it never ends!” her mind begged internally. Each movement of the feathers sated her need to be touched, and ignited a hunger for more just as quickly.
Finally letting herself free, Isis giggled lustily, laughing in a low, throaty voice that had a sensual, purring quality to it. Her fingers intertwined behind her head, her body undulated in an attempt to encourage those wonderful feathers. “Ohohoo...mmmmmhmhmhm.... careful, that's a very dusty spot!” Isis blurted out to the maid, eagerly allowing herself to be 'dusted' clean.
(Val) The circus manager seemed surprised at Minh's humble request of a new watch, so the ringmistress figured that she might as well raise the ante. "Of course," she added, "I would like to borrow one of the circus men to help me with my exercises after I engage in such a taxing activity as trying to extract the truth from a phauxnorse."
(R<) ((So I've heard from everyone but Taj, I guess we're moving on without him for the time being. EE will post when he's able, but I'll sort of "push his empty vessel" around to get him as far as the town, but after that I'm not sure how to play Marcy other than have him roaming the grounds planting evidence. This was supposed to be more of Taj's scene, but I'll do what I can.))
((Also, long post. In order of relevance, Valerie, Taj, EE, Valerie, Carnivore))
***************************
The manager led Mihn cordially outside of his office, locking the door behind him and proceeded with her toward the promenade as they continued to converse. They would meet the cab by the main road, but in the mean time, the notary entertained Mihn's request with a bit more curiosity.
"A man? Exercises?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow. Finally shrugging his shoulders, he gestured to the grounds around them as they passed a crowd of workers all settling down their camp-ware and firewood for the night. He gestured with his hand to the lot of them. "Choose any one of your liking, and I will turn the wheels in your favor. The valet you choose will remain in your...service indefinitely, until such time as I can acquire a watch. Think of him as a security deposit."
The group of men that had been watching them from outside the notary's office, however, knew that there was something valuable at stake here, having kept a close ear on the office window as the specific stipulations of the ring mistress and the manager's exchange took place. If they could extract Katarina's confession before the ring mistress had a chance to question her properly, there was a decent chance of them being able to usurp her reward of equal value to a Tiffany's watch. They hadn't any idea what Katarina had done, or what they would even accuse her of, but so long as she admitted to whatever she was being charged with, and it appeared to be of her own volition, then they could claim the reward on the grounds that they'd persuaded her to come clean. All they had to do was figure out where she was being held...
*********
Marcy and Alex had parted ways, and Erimosi was hidden from sight as he kept an eye out for the cab. Right on schedule, he saw the notary walking toward the cab stop at the end of the promenade, marked by a white posts with black stripes painted on it. There was a woman with him. How odd...
At any rate, when the cab arrived, and the two were inside, his task was to stall them or the driver long enough for Erimosi to sneak onto the luggage rack at the rear of the vehicle so that she could steal a ride into town. It should be easy enough.
Seeing them and not the cab as of yet, he decided to begin his delay tactics, and approached the woman and the notary, saying affably "Good evening sir. Leaving for town so soon? It's so unlike you to waste daylight?"
"I've business to attend to before the offices in town close. My work is far from over." he sighed irritably in reply.
"Well, whatever your office, I hope you won't spend too many hours in sobriety tonight."
"Away with you!" the notary groaned, waving his hand as if to shoo him along.
"You see?" He said to the woman. "No sense of humor. I dare say he's of no use at all without a drink. See to it that he's properly libated won't you? Consider it a favor to me, and anyone else with whom his temper is already too short."
**************
The maid had long been told of the etiquette of flirting with guest using a simple stroke of the duster, though it was usually far more subtle: a flicker of the feathers across the neck or chin in passing, a gentle stroke of the wrists or palm. This method was much more direct, and much more rewarding, as this nudist writhed in ecstasy on the bed, pleading for the contact.
It wasn't often she was given this sort of...power, over a person. With the majority of her adult life having been spent in servitude of others, this change of pace was most refreshing. And as such, she decided to keep the guest in continued servitude of her touch, and not the other way around.
She brought the downy fronds up across her stomach, and over her bosom, looking over her shoulder not to make sure she knew exactly what she was touching, and at length, brushed over Isis' chest with repeated slow, long strokes.
((So there we are. I've restored post #82-92 to the best of my ability. I can always access the deleted thread if I should need to patch up past events for anyone. I suppose its a good thing my last post tied everyone's general synopses together so nicely, even if it was a bit long-winded.))
(Val) The notary had asked Minh what she would like in return for "questioning" Katrina. Minh tugged at her cheap pendant watch and replied, "I could use a watch that keeps time better than this one." She wanted to add that she also wouldn't mind having the services of the acrobat Marcy as a personal toy for a while, but, not knowing the notary well, thought better of it.
(R<) "Is that all?" He scoffed, almost incredulously. Mihn was either incredibly merciful in these proceedings, or so satisfied by the work itself that she hadn't any greater desires.
"I must say, I wasn't expecting something so...simple. Not that I'm complaining. We can take a walk through jewelery store in town, and see if there's anything that suits your taste. Otherwise, we can always wait until we get to London or Paris and find a 'Tiffany and Co.' for you to peruse." He grabbed the lock-box from a drawer, and folded his jacket over it as he approached the door. "Are you sure that there's nothing more? The phauxnorse is not an easy mark, even for you."
(Carnivore) (Oh, the cliché! A french maid! Eh, I'm up for it. And it is established that Isis speaks a Caribbean accented French. Being lazy, I'm just going to go with <french> for foreign dialogue.)
Isis turned around at the knock on the door, and subsequent entrance of a maid. Still holding the bouquet in her hands, Isis looked at the woman curiously. She held a basket full of towels and bottles in one hand, and with the other she was covering her eyes. Was it the custom of this inn to have the maids clean it one-handed and blind? She also seemed terribly apologetic about it. Not having run into maids, Isis was not accostomed to the practice of only cleaning a room when the occupants were out.
<Sorry for what, that you're paid to clean the room? If that's your job you should do it now rather than later shouldn't you?> She spoke in her colonially accented French, responding in kind to what was either an Aygomen or Parisian french accent. Though she'd never admit it, frankly Isis could not tell the difference, having heard only her own her whole life. Isis gestured her in, before realizing she couldn't see her. Sighing a little at the confusing behavior, she walked over to her, lightly but forcefully grabbing her upper arm with a damp hand and pulling her fully into the room, closing the door behind her. <Come in, come in then! Besides, this room could use a change of towels and a good dusting.>
Deciding to let the maid get to her work, or at least make up her mind if it wasn't already made up for her, Isis moved away, looking for a place to set her flowers. Taking a last whiff of the aroma, she found a vase on top of the bed's headboard. Reaching out over the bed, she set her flowers, a damp knee leaving a wet spot on the bed where she knelt.
(R<) The maid, forced to look at the half naked guest, squinted, resisting the urge to close her eyes completely. As Isis tended to her flowers, she still resisted looking at her directly, focusing on the furniture nearest herself, and the instructions she'd just been given. She wasn't altogether embarassed by these circumstances--as she'd seen the interior of many a locker room with much exposed tenants than this--but propriety insisted that she preserve the modesty of her guest.
Taking a feather duster from her cleaning basket, she flitted the fronds over the end table, the armoire, and the desk. She worked quickly, but thoroughly, hoping that at some point Isis would return to the bathroom or wherever it was she'd come from in such a state of nudity so that she might do her job more conventionally. Still, after having quickly finished the other fixtures, the only one that remained was the bed, on which Isis was presently seated. She stepped toward the fixture, with a sidelong glance, and a slightly raised hand to shield her eyes as if approaching some great radiance. She extended her other hand, with the feather duster toward the bed, and flickered the feathers back and forth until she felt it contact something--which she assumed to be the bed's foot-board.
(Carn) Having placed her flowers, Isis began drying herself off fully. Taking the towels wrapped around her, she dried her skin quickly but carefully, still kneeling on the bed… until she felt something very soft brush against her left foot. Whatever it was tickled terribly, and the surprise of it made Isis drop her towels onto the floor. Thankfully she was almost entirely dry by this point. Turning her head, she saw the odd self-blinding maid tickling her foot with her feather duster! The feathers brushing against her skin actually felt rather pleasant, but it tickled her terribly.
Biting her lip and stifling her reaction, Isis watched the maid blindly "dust" her. The girl's actions seemed clumsy and inept rather than flirtatious, and Isis again wondered what inn would make maids clean this way. Part of her was tempted to keep her foot out for as long as possible, and just let the maid gently and unwittingly tickle her until she couldn't keep silent anymore, as if she were some statue being dusted. But her reluctantly pulled her foot away from the duster and let the maid do her work. Isis laid sideways on the big bed, flat on her back, and attempted to regain her composure. She didn't want the maid to think she was laughing at her once she asked her another question.
(R<) The maid, flitted her duster to and fro until she decided that the footboard was sufficiently clean, and made her way along the bed's edge, dusting what she assumed to be the frame. She backed up, her hand still in position, unseen to her the duster beginning to flit aimlessly over Isis's legs and bum.
She noticed Isis's feet in passing, slightly more pink about the soles than she'd "not-seen" before, and as she continued her blind task, she noticed that Isis's body squirmed somewhat, though no sounds or full withdrawal from her was made. Was she watching her work? What interest could a simple dusting hold? It wasn't exactly a riveting spectator sport, after all. Bashfully, she considered that possibility that she was being secretly admired...
Her duster came across Isis lower back, and over her hip.
(Carn) Isis had little time to recover. As soon as the tickly feeling left her feet, the feather duster returned, drifting over the smooth skin of her thighs. Before she could even react, the duster moved to her rear, drifting back and forth along her near side. The maid acted as if she were blissfully unaware of what she was doing. Isis again tried to restrain herself from laughing, although it became harder and harder to do with each wispy stroke of the feathers along so much sensitive skin. She squirmed and wriggled in place, but tried her best to keep her composure.
Internally, she was at war. A part of her was elated at the ticklish attention, and the feathers made that part of her grow with each brush. Oh, to simply lie here and be ticklishly brushed! To be softly stroked with those feathers until she burst... but there was another more rational part of her that was trying to figure out why. Surely the maid couldn't be so simple as to be unaware of what she was doing, even if she had her eyes covered? Isis realized the maid was probably flirting with her, teasing her under the guise of having to do her job under such strange conditions. Such a strange game, where no one admitted it was even going on... but the thought tickled her fancy even as the feathers tickled her hip and rear, causing her to flinch, her stomach to shake with suppressed laughter. If she opened her mouth now she'd barely be able to say anything.
Isis decided there was one way to be completely sure of the maid's attentions. Isis summoned all her remaining composure and stretched her form out across the bed, bringing her arms up behind her hair. Her tall, statuesque body was pulled taut, all her ticklish parts exposed and completely vulnerable to the maid's attentions. Isis was sure she was making herself completely irresistible, if that was the maid's intent. If the girl kept going, she'd have her answer, and perhaps a wonderful way to pass the afternoon.
(R<) The maid continued her feather dusting, watching Isis's body writhe soundlessly from the knee and lower. As she proceeded higher, she realized that her implement had reached a sort of...convex? Bed frames didn't have convexes...Was she...?
She couldn't bring herself to look, but the more she felt the shape with her duster, the more sensible the guest's movements became. The movement of her toes and legs, squirming to and fro in time with the slightest movements of her hand...And then, she watched her legs as she rolled over.
Her duster must then...be...
"Oh my..." she sighed, slowly moving her duster across what must surely be her guest's exposed mound; her face becoming rather red as she continued, and a small smile creeping across her face.
(Carn) Isis could hardly believe the bold actions of this strange maid. The feathers crawled across her hips, dragged their tips devilishly across her waist... and then teased her very womanhood. Isis shuddered as the duster made contact with the bare Eboniaan skin, free of any clothing or hair. The maid's actions answered all of hers in the least subtle of ways. Isis gave in completely to her desires, wriggling joyously under the feathers, taking in the sensation with an electric glee. The maid moved her soft weapon with an evil simplicity, slowly stroking in a way that was just too much to take, leaving Isis almost begging for more. “Oh, yes! Oh please, give me more! No wait, keep it just like this! The way she teases me is so unbearable... I hope it never ends!” her mind begged internally. Each movement of the feathers sated her need to be touched, and ignited a hunger for more just as quickly.
Finally letting herself free, Isis giggled lustily, laughing in a low, throaty voice that had a sensual, purring quality to it. Her fingers intertwined behind her head, her body undulated in an attempt to encourage those wonderful feathers. “Ohohoo...mmmmmhmhmhm.... careful, that's a very dusty spot!” Isis blurted out to the maid, eagerly allowing herself to be 'dusted' clean.
(Val) The circus manager seemed surprised at Minh's humble request of a new watch, so the ringmistress figured that she might as well raise the ante. "Of course," she added, "I would like to borrow one of the circus men to help me with my exercises after I engage in such a taxing activity as trying to extract the truth from a phauxnorse."
(R<) ((So I've heard from everyone but Taj, I guess we're moving on without him for the time being. EE will post when he's able, but I'll sort of "push his empty vessel" around to get him as far as the town, but after that I'm not sure how to play Marcy other than have him roaming the grounds planting evidence. This was supposed to be more of Taj's scene, but I'll do what I can.))
((Also, long post. In order of relevance, Valerie, Taj, EE, Valerie, Carnivore))
***************************
The manager led Mihn cordially outside of his office, locking the door behind him and proceeded with her toward the promenade as they continued to converse. They would meet the cab by the main road, but in the mean time, the notary entertained Mihn's request with a bit more curiosity.
"A man? Exercises?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow. Finally shrugging his shoulders, he gestured to the grounds around them as they passed a crowd of workers all settling down their camp-ware and firewood for the night. He gestured with his hand to the lot of them. "Choose any one of your liking, and I will turn the wheels in your favor. The valet you choose will remain in your...service indefinitely, until such time as I can acquire a watch. Think of him as a security deposit."
The group of men that had been watching them from outside the notary's office, however, knew that there was something valuable at stake here, having kept a close ear on the office window as the specific stipulations of the ring mistress and the manager's exchange took place. If they could extract Katarina's confession before the ring mistress had a chance to question her properly, there was a decent chance of them being able to usurp her reward of equal value to a Tiffany's watch. They hadn't any idea what Katarina had done, or what they would even accuse her of, but so long as she admitted to whatever she was being charged with, and it appeared to be of her own volition, then they could claim the reward on the grounds that they'd persuaded her to come clean. All they had to do was figure out where she was being held...
*********
Marcy and Alex had parted ways, and Erimosi was hidden from sight as he kept an eye out for the cab. Right on schedule, he saw the notary walking toward the cab stop at the end of the promenade, marked by a white posts with black stripes painted on it. There was a woman with him. How odd...
At any rate, when the cab arrived, and the two were inside, his task was to stall them or the driver long enough for Erimosi to sneak onto the luggage rack at the rear of the vehicle so that she could steal a ride into town. It should be easy enough.
Seeing them and not the cab as of yet, he decided to begin his delay tactics, and approached the woman and the notary, saying affably "Good evening sir. Leaving for town so soon? It's so unlike you to waste daylight?"
"I've business to attend to before the offices in town close. My work is far from over." he sighed irritably in reply.
"Well, whatever your office, I hope you won't spend too many hours in sobriety tonight."
"Away with you!" the notary groaned, waving his hand as if to shoo him along.
"You see?" He said to the woman. "No sense of humor. I dare say he's of no use at all without a drink. See to it that he's properly libated won't you? Consider it a favor to me, and anyone else with whom his temper is already too short."
**************
The maid had long been told of the etiquette of flirting with guest using a simple stroke of the duster, though it was usually far more subtle: a flicker of the feathers across the neck or chin in passing, a gentle stroke of the wrists or palm. This method was much more direct, and much more rewarding, as this nudist writhed in ecstasy on the bed, pleading for the contact.
It wasn't often she was given this sort of...power, over a person. With the majority of her adult life having been spent in servitude of others, this change of pace was most refreshing. And as such, she decided to keep the guest in continued servitude of her touch, and not the other way around.
She brought the downy fronds up across her stomach, and over her bosom, looking over her shoulder not to make sure she knew exactly what she was touching, and at length, brushed over Isis' chest with repeated slow, long strokes.
((So there we are. I've restored post #82-92 to the best of my ability. I can always access the deleted thread if I should need to patch up past events for anyone. I suppose its a good thing my last post tied everyone's general synopses together so nicely, even if it was a bit long-winded.))
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