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The Lady's Wish

12

Ever since she was a little girl, she'd always believed in faerie tales. Always believed in magic, in wondrous stories and legends. Grandma had told her the stories when she was little: stories of places where strange, unexplained, even magical things happened. Separated from the world only by a thin veil of science and disbelief, a world of magic existed. But there were certain times of the year when the veil was thin...

* * * * *

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players...

The pleasure of your company is requested
for a festive evening of magic, intrigue, and fantasy.

Sunday, October 30th at Eleven o'clock

Please RSVP regrets only

She read over the entire invitation carefully. A masque. A costume party. Her husband had passed her the invitation on his way to work that morning. "Make yourself a costume today. We'll go out to dinner, then to the party." He'd brushed off her questions, late enough as it was.

He did at least tell her his costume idea. He wanted them to go as King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Ugh. She always did hate that story- had never understood it. Two people, betraying a man they both loved because they couldn't control themselves? How stupid. But he wanted to be the knight in shining armour, so she'd be his lady. She sighed. Every once in a while, she got tired of playing the lady.

So she needed a costume. Something pretty, ladylike. 'Why not something sexy for once?' whispered an insidious little voice in her head. She jumped a bit, then glanced around, but nobody was near. Something proper, something safe. 'Why not something different? It's a masque. Nobody would know!' persuaded the voice.

She debated with herself. As she washed the breakfast dishes, she started daydreaming. She didn't usually like parties, but maybe this one wouldn't be so bad after all. She sighed. A knight in shining armour though? Sweet and gentle is nice, she thought. Dependable. Proper. 'But sometimes,' the sneaky voice murmured, 'don't you just want to be taken. Hard and fast. Not slowly. Not gently. You're not going to shatter.' She laughed uncertainly. Maybe she could do something to help him see... She smiled mischievously and got to work.

She made herself a dress. Royal blue velvet, floor length. It hugged her voluptuous curves and laced up the sides. Long, belled sleeves hung over her hands. The demure neckline bared her collarbone and tops of her shoulders, but covered her generous bosom. Very proper and ladylike. But underneath... she decided she wasn't going to be all ladylike. She had bought a leather corset to give the dress the proper silhouette. Silk stockings. And the boots! She loved the boots. These she bought these on a whim, but had never been bold enough to actually wear: they were also black leather, knee length lace-ups with high, spiky heels. They didn't really match the formality of the dress, but she decided they fit her mood.

Her husband had given her a necklace for their anniversary: an intertwining network of sapphires and pearls. 'It really is lovely' she thought as she fastened it around her neck. 'But it feels like a collar.' Glancing in the mirror, she saw that it looked like a collar too, albeit a beautiful one. A wide band of blue stones formed a choker from which dangled a number of delicate chains.

She twisted her long chestnut hair up, but left a few curls hanging to shoulders. Lastly, her mask. Matching blue satin and black feathers.

She'd just finished dressing when her husband called. Running late at work, a last minute conference. If he's not back in time, he'll meet her there. She sighed, resigned. He was

always late. Always. But she would be able to find him. He'd be the knight in shining armour- he's always the knight in shining armour. She sighed again, then felt guilty. He really was her knight in shining armour. He was always gentle and sweet. Chivalrous. Considerate. Always the gentleman. 'It's just...' she thought longingly, 'every once in a while, I wish he wasn't quite so sweet. Maybe if he was just a tad wicked...'

He didn't make it back in time to pick her up. Reconciled to the fact that she'd have to go alone, she she followed the directions on the invitation, and stopped- amazed- in front of the address. Surely this couldn't be the right place? But yes, this was the address on the invitation. The house was enormous- a castle really, it even had stone walls, turrets, and gargoyles staring down from their lofty perches.

She parked along the street, and walked slowly up to the house. She really didn't like the gargoyles, and shivered as she passed under their watchful eyes- eyes that turned to follow her as she passed. The door opened at her knock with a theatrical creak, and she stepped forward into a blaze of light.

When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she gasped at the opulence of the entryway. Marble floors and gilded paintings, silk drapes and polished mahogany? Who on Earth did her husband know here? Feeling a bit like a country bumpkin, she finally turned toward the light and music and wandered toward the party.

As she passed the entryway, a dashing masked man dressed all in black appeared to take her cloak. He grinned at her, slashing the air with his silver rapier, then bowed gallantly "Good evening Señorita. I am Zorro. Welcome! Dare I hope that you have come to us alone?"

She blushed, but took his arm as he proceeded to lead her into the ballroom. "N.. no," she stammered. "My husband is supposed to meet me here... Will meet me here. He's a knight. King Arthur actually. I'm supposed to be Guinevere."

"A pity" replied Zorro mournfully. "But at least allow me to escort you until we find him!"

He led her around the enormous ballroom, stopping to get her a glass of wine and to introduce her here and there. At one side of the room, small tables were set up, presumably for those who tired of dancing. On the dance floor, she saw that there were a number of famous couples present. Romeo and Juliet. Napoleon & Josephine. Bonnie and Clyde. Antony and Cleopatra. Tom & Jerry. Paris and Helen of Troy. Don Quixote and Dulcinea. Sampson and Delilah. Hamlet and Ophelia.

She hid a small smile and asked Zorro softly "Have you ever noticed how many 'famous' couples had really unhappy endings?"

He smiled a rather wicked smile himself and replied, "But Señora Guinevere, your story had no happy ending either. Perhaps you are here to find your Lancelot?" He lowered his voice to a husky pitch, and added "Give me but one hour, and I could give you many happy endings!" He laughed heartily as another blush bloomed across her face. "Come," he said jovially. "I will show you the rest."

The room was magnificent. Light glowed from candles and jack o' lanterns set all around the room. A fire burned cheerfully in a stone fireplace, surrounded by squashy armchairs and small sofas. Tall windows were draped in yards of burgundy silk that matched the flowers that were positioned on the tables.

As she looked around, a uniformed waiter came over and spoke quietly to her escort. Zorro excused himself with a smile and a wink. "A small problem in the kitchen. You go off and enjoy yourself."

She didn't see anyone she knew. Well, of course she didn't- they were all wearing masks. So, she didn't know anyone. Nobody knew her. Hmmm... The mask, and the wine she had consumed, made her feel bolder, gave her an edge of confidence. For tonight, she could be someone else. Maybe she could pretend that she wasn't a shy, proper lady for once. It was worth a try anyway. She put a bit of a swing into her step and started to cruise the room. She spent a pleasant few minutes flirting harmlessly with an elegantly clad group of vampires, then moved on to speak with Helen of Troy as she retired from the dance floor.

Finally, she spotted her white knight across the room talking animatedly to Tom & Jerry. How odd, she thought. He wasn't usually so outgoing. 'Maybe I can put a bit of tarnish on my knight in shining armour' she thought as she crossed the room. When she reached his side, she leaned up on tiptoe to whisper a suggestion in his ear. Something sinfully dodgy, something she never would say in public. But this night was meant for games, for secrets. She flicked her tongue down the side of his neck, to the hollow just below his ear, savoring the salty taste of his skin. She nipped his earlobe with her teeth, the slid around in front of him.

Jerry lifted a brow and sent her a crooked smirk as her knight turned and smiled. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, then began to nibble along her cheekbone. Surprised by his very public reaction, she leaned away, but he held her chin and kissed her softly. His lips brushed hers, gentle. Her stomach fluttered as his tongue eased between her lips and flirted with her own. Uncomfortably aware of Tom and Jerry watching them, she tried to draw back from his mouth, tried to think, to breathe, but he deepened the kiss until she was drowning. Drowning in his kiss, in the heat of his body, in the taste of him. His scent overwhelmed her, the heat of his body beginning to melt her as she submitted completely to his kiss. His hand dropped to her hip, caressing the soft velvet draped there. She sighed. Of its own volition, her hand crept up along his body until she cupped his face.

He pulled back a bit to gaze down at her. "Hi baby," he purred. She blinked, startled. Something was wrong. The costume was right, the face was right, and the body was right. But the voice was wrong- it was familiar, but too deep, too sensual. And he'd never called her 'baby.' Confused, she stared at him, trying to decide if her eyes were playing tricks. She tried to spin away, to get some distance, but his hand clamped around her hips to prevent her from leaving.

"No, no baby. You'll stay right here." That deep, growling voice called strangely to her. But this man was not her husband- he couldn't be. He looked like her husband. Felt like him. Even sounded like him. But something wasn't right. Her husband would never act so in public. His voice didn't have such an undertone that promised wicked things, or a low rumble that made her ache with wanting. She blushed, stammered apologies. He laughed, and the sound tugged low in her belly. His eyes raked over her quivering body, his hands running smoothly up her body to tangle in the laces at her sides. He began to speak but, flustered, she simply stared, trying to think, to reason, to understand what her eyes were seeing. And the more he talked, the more confused and entranced she became.

"Would you like to dance?" He spoke to her, but she couldn't hear the words, only felt the incredible lure of that voice. He traced a hand over the naked skin of her shoulder, then ran his fingers down her arm and reached for her hand. She jolted, then realized he was waiting for her answer. A dance he had asked. She didn't dance. She started to explain, but then found herself on the dance floor before she could find the words to say otherwise.

She moved because he moved. When he swayed to one side, she went with him. After a while, she began to relax as they danced, but then realized that she was being held entirely too close to his body- that hard body that looked like, felt like, but was not, her husband's. She stepped back and tried to put some distance between them, but he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. There he held her so that the back of her body was nestled against his front. He held her lightly, swaying with her to the rhythm of the music. His breath shivered on her neck, sending chills across her skin. They continued to dance, the white knight steering them over to a cozy loveseat by the fireplace. The deep timbre of his growling voice made her tremble more as he whispered to her as they danced. Of things he'd like to do to her. Things he'd like her to do to him. Things that would last hours and hours. She blushed again, trying desperately to pretend she wasn't interested, wasn't listening. But her body knew otherwise, and her skin grew warm as his voice worked its magic. His warm lips on her skin and the length of his body against hers drove her to distraction, as her body tightened in anticipation and her eyes began to close in surrender. "Who are you?" she murmured.

Suddenly, there was another voice, and a warm hand grabbed her arm as she was spun almost roughly around. Another knight, this one dressed all in black, stood tall in front of her. He gripped her chin and bent low to kiss her. Scalding, burning, his lips scorched her skin. He licked and nibbled at her lips until, on a sigh, she opened to him. His tongue pierced her lips and plundered her mouth, stabbing at hers until she was breathless and wanting. His soft beard rested against her cheek. His scent filled her. This was her husband, but he was more forceful, more demanding, just... more. Mortified by her previous behaviour, but already primed and ready, she felt her entire body responding to him. She threw her arms around her dark knight, her body awakened, feeling wicked, willing him to touch her.

Behind her, she felt the other man, the white knight. He whispered something to the black knight, something she could not hear. He held her hip with one hand while the other pulled lightly on her necklace to bring her head back against his chest. She felt his entire body pressing against her. His lips teased her skin gently, flicking his tongue along her neckline and back up to her ear. She whimpered slightly, confused and aroused. He hummed low in his throat and continued to murmur to her. His low voice made her shudder, and she felt herself grow hot and damp.

In front of her, her dark knight looked thoughtfully at the white knight, then at her. He slowly ran a finger across her lower lip as he stared into her eyes. He pushed firmly. She didn't think, simply opened her mouth and licked his finger, closing around it and sucking it softly inside, running her tongue all over his smooth, warm skin. Her eyes slitted nearly closed in pleasure as he slid his finger in and out of her mouth. His other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. He tugged at her hair, forcing her head back and buried his lips in the silken skin of her throat just below her necklace, nipping his way roughly along her collarbone.

So far they had managed to avoid attention, but when he pulled her head back, she let out a loud gasp, and heads began to turn. When she saw they were drawing a crowd, she tried to draw back, but the white knight took her arms and held them gently behind her back, thrusting her ample breasts into her husband's chest. She began to struggle, but in a low undertone, the white knight began to speak softly to distract her.

"Who am I you ask? Who am I, who can make you shudder with only a word? Do I not look like your husband? Do I not feel like your husband? Look well, for I am your husband- well, at least part of him." He ran his tongue over her shoulder, then moved to her other ear. "You've always known about All Hallow's Eve- that the veil separating magic from the world is thinnest on this night. And a little magic was needed tonight. Your husband asked for help, and the gods granted it. We're one, he and I, the same. But one side is always stronger than the other. One side masks the other in everyday life. I'm the stronger of us. But tonight..." he chuckled. "Tonight, magic makes it possible for both of us to serve you. I rule the gentle side, the romantic side. But that passionate beast" he gestured to the dark knight, "is a part of us too. I keep him in control. We thought you a lady, who wanted only a gentleman. We didn't want to startle you with the... darker side of our passion. But you have it too, that darker side, don't you?" He smirked. "Every once in a while, you get tired of playing the lady, do you not?"

Her eyes grew wide and startled as her breathing quickened. "You wanted to be taken, don't you remember? 'Hard and fast' as I recall. You wanted it rough tonight. He wanted both of us to take you. So now we will please you both. We'll both take you. Him, and me. The naughty, and the nice. We want you writhing in passion and moaning with lust. We'll feed that dark need tonight, baby." She drew in a shaky breath. He leaned down again and breathed into her ear "I love to feel you quivering and helpless in my arms. And you know you want to." Her heartbeat accelerated as she groaned and sagged back against him.

Hearing the white knight's words and feeling her reaction to them, the dark knight snarled and grabbed a fistful of her blue velvet gown. He yanked it upward to reveal one long leather and silk clad leg, then stopped, staring. He ran his hand over her leather-encased calf, wonderingly. He continued his path up her silky thigh, and finally over her hip until his fingers brushed the smooth leather of her corset. Shocked, he jerked his eyes upward to meet her gaze. No blush met his eyes this time, only wanting. Arousal. Knowing. His eyes went black with lust as he speared a hand through her hair and jerked her forward for a deep, soul-searing kiss. His other hand curved upward and molded itself around her breast, squeezing and pinching her it until it peaked.

Behind her, the white knight grabbed both her wrists in one hand, then reached up to caress her other breast, brushing at her nipple until it too was hard and begging. "Please..." she whispered breathlessly. She pushed back, rubbing herself up against him, wanting someone, something to ease the terrible ache that was spreading throughout her body. He continued to whisper to her, his voice feeding the terrible hunger that was growing out of control, his warm breath on her skin making her shiver uncontrollably. She whimpered again, "Oh please..." and leaned further into him.

She felt her thighs spread wide as the dark knight shoved his knee between her legs. Leaning against the back of the couch, he cupped her hips and pulled her high onto his thigh. "You'll ride only me!" he growled. "When your eyes go dark and blind, and when your back bows with pleasure, it will be my arms that hold you." She nodded helplessly and kneaded his thighs desperately with her hands, her nails biting into his skin, nearly mindless with wanting. Her breathing grew frantic, her thighs clamped around his as she rocked back and forth. She could feel the firm, solid length of him trapped under her body, waiting.... She lifted her hand to cup him, to stroke him, but all at once the pleasure hit her. Light exploded across her eyes as her spine bowed and her body convulsed around him. She collapsed against his body, but he was unsteady on his own feet. She grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling, and together they toppled and spilled over the edge of the loveseat where they landed.

Aftershocks rocked her as she drove her nails into his chest, then moaned as the white knight grabbed her hands and jerked them above her head. "I like holding you down" he growled. As he leaned down to nip at her neck, her husband slowly shifted his hips until he pressed himself between her thighs. He began to move in long, writhing thrusts. He pushed against her, grinding her into the seat. Harder and rougher, he rolled himself over her. She tried to pull her hands free, to run them over his body, but the white knight continued to hold her arms tightly. "You wanted this," he purred. "You like this don't you? You want to feel us pounding inside you, like having us do as we please." She let out a small moan of protest, but he leaned down to lick it away. "You know you do. So should we? Should we let him take you right here?" As her husband bent low over her body, she leaned up to kiss his neck. He paused, shuddered, then began to move again. Every stroke, every pass made her cry out. Pinned helplessly to the cushions with her hands bound above her, she whimpered and writhed as her husband pushed himself tighter to her. As best she could, she began to thrust herself up to him. His hands curved upward and closed over her breasts as he rocked his body against hers, glorying in her cries. Struggling for a bit of control, she licked the hollow of his throat, letting her warm breath rest on his skin, then sank her teeth into his shoulder. He laughed hoarsely as she growled low in her throat. As he ran a hand over her cheek, she turned to grab his finger with her teeth. As she caressed his finger with her tongue and sucked it deep into the warm depths of her mouth, his body began to pound fiercely against hers until he brought her, screaming. Her vision went black and shot through with stars as an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashed over her body. Her hands clawed at the white knight's wrists as her body spasmed uncontrollably.

12
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