Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents
The Slut & the Historian
(Part 1 of 2)
by Shasa & Jayling
After many tedious years of adventures in other lands, Jayling’s arrival back at the Kindred Spirit Lodge hadn’t been what anyone would ever envision. Her unexpected detour to the mysterious KSL in the Dark Void brought her back home as a very different woman; a battered mess, both physically and spiritually. Crashing directly into Shasa’s quarters from out of ‘nowhere’ in that frightful state wasn’t exactly helpful. It would cause a flurry of questions. Believable answers she would need to spin...
Several weeks passed since the historian returned home. During this period, she had secluded herself away up in her sanctuary, avoiding her Sisters as much as possible. It was a time of physical healing, reflection, and a whole lot of weaving.
But the day had come. Most of her wounds had healed sufficiently, no longer looking like a cart had run over her. Unable to put it off any longer, Jayling ventured downstairs. The majority of her Kindred were home today, having greeted her with warmth and a gentle loving touch. They hadn’t been demanding, though of course still curious.
She deflected the innocent probing from her Sisters, all the while searching for a certain face – Shasa’s. She was nowhere in sight. Jay wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or disheartened – a little of both would probably be accurate.
While the slightly inebriated Oisin, Celtic Bard of Erin, attempted yet another cucumber and zucchini juggling act, it was then that Jay saw her. Out in the hallway, Shasa stood off in the shadows watching, but not entering. The historian’s heart started beating faster; her face a myriad of emotions.
Shasa couldn't believe her eyes. It was the woman she'd never been able to lure to her bedchambers - the beautiful one who seemed painfully shy around her. The Lodge historian. She’d heard of her return, but had yet to see her.
For years she had tried to entice her, to draw her out of the dank library, to see if there was even the tiniest spark between them that Shasa could nurture into a flame, but it had been in vain. Then Jay had left, gone off to gods knows where. And now, after all this time, here she was again; having literally crashed into Shasa’s own quarters just a fortnight before, according to Oisin.
Shasa felt her breathing deepen, as she tried to catch the scent of her. And then their eyes met. Oddly she felt herself shy away from their depths - some unknown fear nibbling at her confidence. The strange emotions covering Jay’s face added to her unease. Shasa slipped away from the group welcoming the historian, to sort out these unusual feelings.
Before Jay could figure out her next move, the sailor was gone. She left without even saying hello. The slumping of shoulders and sadness that now etched her face, showed how truly disappointed she was. Feigning exhaustion, Jayling excused herself, slipping off to her private chambers.
Passing the dusty shelving which held Shasa’s older writings, her fingers lightly brushed them with a tender caress. “My darling, sweet sailor, you’re whole once again. By the gods you’re fucking alive! What a miracle and gift that is.”
The blonde was so torn inside though. That lustful desire which pumped in her veins continued its battle with logic. ‘She must never know the truth,’ became a mantra during these past few weeks. Closing her eyes, she drank in the memories of Shasa, both her lover the tormented pirate, and those of her seductive friend whom she’d never laid with. Sliding her hands across breasts, kneading them, pinching both nipples, her hands continued their descent down her front, fingers slipping inside the waistband. She slowly stroked her center front to back several times. The wetness gave proof of her desires.
Shaking herself out of this trance, she sighed, “How the hell am I ever going to pull this off?”
Glancing in the mirror, she adjusted her clothing, raked fingers through the short mane, then turned and headed downstairs to the dining area.
The troubling thoughts racing through Shasa continued to eat at her, actually making the sailor hungry. She made her way to the Great Room and ordered dinner. Uncharacteristically, she sat in a darkened corner, and watched – though she wasn’t sure for what. The unsettling feeling was beginning to annoy her.
Jayling walked in.
Shasa wanted her; had always wanted her; and had been denied. Fuck the uncertainty, fuck the insecurity. She was Shasa, Lodge Slut, and she’d be damned if she would be denied the Lodge historian again. Rising with determination, she approached the blonde. Jayling looked up at the last possible moment, locking hazel eyes on the sailor.
It was only Shasa’s many years of seducing women that kept her from losing her train of thought. “I saw you earlier, but wanted a more private audience with you,” she said simply. “I’d like it very much if you’d eat…” she grinned and licked her lips playfully, “with me.”
Jayling’s eyes brightened, then for a brief instant took on a distant stare, like she was looking for something no longer there. Quickly recovering, she smiled broadly. “Shasa, you’re incorrigible as ever!” The wench chuckled, “It’s about time you came over to welcome me home, sailor,” and hip-bumped her in mock reproach. “You’ve been on my mind a lot today.” A light blush warmed her face.
Grasping her outstretched hand, a slight tremble went through Jay. Hoping it had gone unnoticed, she silently cursed herself.
Shasa hid a small smile. Nothing got by her; be it the quick draw of breath when she approached, the strange distant look in her eyes, or the quiver when they touched. It suddenly seemed very possible to Shasa, that the Historian wanted the Slut, as well.
Shasa held her hand tightly, turned, and pulled Jay to her table in the darkened corner. It wasn’t until they reached the chairs, that she released the woman and turned towards her. She quickly slid against Jay’s body to give a welcome home caress that was all about heat. Placing her hands softly on the historian’s shapely hips, she simply stood close; her warm breath danced across Jay’s neck, as she inhaled the woman’s scent. Lightly she kissed her skin.
Then she stepped back and smiled warmly at her. “Welcome home, honey.” Gesturing to the chairs, Shasa slipped back into her own, watching with appreciation, as the tasty woman did the same. “You look amazing, DJ, especially after the condition I heard you were in just 2 weeks ago.” She noted as her eyes continued to rake gorgeous curves. “Let me say, in my own slut fashion, that you look truly fuckable.”
Jay blushed furiously, but Shasa didn’t leave the conversation on such a fearsome topic. She reached across the table and took a sun-kissed hand in her own. “Tell me where you’ve been and how you are, please? I’ve thought of you often, honey, and am so glad that you’re back. You’ve had me worried for so long.”
Was it concern or was she trying to slyly gain information? It was probably a combination of both. As Jayling opened her mouth with an intake of breath, no words came out. She was spellbound. All she could do was stare. This Shasa was so full of life, not a single wretched scar marring her beautiful face, with no darkness clouding those emerald eyes.
The ravishing beauty she was in this universe was a sight to behold, just as she remembered from years gone by. That long, reddish-brown mane hung wildly adorning her face; strands curling down from shoulders onto a gorgeous white chest, even lower into her ample cleavage. Her trademark Vee’d shirt, white not black, was open from top to waist. Those breasts were a dangerous distraction.
Shasa’s aura was intoxicating – inviting, similar to what the historian had just recently experienced, but different also. Jay’s breathing quickened; her mouth slightly ajar as a spasm shot to her core. Biting her lower lip, she blushed from the knowledge of the liquid which now sat between her legs. Squirming in her seat, she tried to regain some composure. With a deep intake of breath; she finally began the story...
“I’m sorry to have worried you, honey, and to have been gone so long. My quests were... quite dirty and harsh. You see, it was 3 years ago when an old friend of mine from Tyria sent a message asking for help -- any kind of assistance. She was desperate. Their land had been invaded by the vile, despicable Charr tribes. They were barbaric creatures. The devastation they caused was horrific, scorching the land and scarring the people. Trebuchets reigned death. It was pure hell on earth. I still tremble at the memory of them. So many died, even more maimed...”
Jayling had to stop for a deep breath. She nodded her thanks to the thoughtful woman who poured her a glass. Sipping the offering, Jay crinkled her nose, “Water, eh?” Smirking at a long past remembrance - ‘switch to water’, a caring, butchy voice had instructed, over and over again. She wished she would’ve listened back then.
“Darling, if you don’t mind I’ll stop there. Suffice to say those wars were horrific, where one atrocity leads to yet another, as you well know. Three long years of helping out friends from one province to the next has worn me out. I hurt; I ache. I just wanted to come home to my Kin.”
Taking a bite of the last fresh berry, she closed her eyes. Its heavenly taste left her in sweet repose. “Absolutely delicious. It’s been so long.”
Shasa tried not to stare as the last morsel slid down her long throat. She licked her lips and smiled. “I’m going to ask you something, Jay… and please don’t say no?” When she received a curious but kind look in response, she continued. “Will you take me upstairs to your Library? Will you take me to where your heart is? It’s a place I’ve never been, and want very much to see.”
Hazel eyes brightened then sparkled at her sweet request. Shasa was spot-on; her heart did lie in that sanctuary; it’s where their past came back to life – but also where death and darkness were recently screamed out. Torn once again, her heart, not the head, won this round. “Ya sweet talker you, of course you may!”
Reaching forward, she tugged the offered hand up. “It’s this way, sailor, come with me.”
Halfway up the stairs, Jay stopped their assent. “Hey you, you owe me for never visiting there before now.” Nudging her in mock reproach, her elbow struck flesh, the soft breast of this gorgeous woman. Emerald eyes flashed in mirth as Jay bit her lower lip and blushed an apology.
Up the stairs, down the long hallway, to the left at the end of the corridor, lay her sanctuary, ‘The Kindred Spirit Lodge Library.’
A bow of her head and twist of her palm, Jay motioned Shasa in.
Shasa quickly took in the whole of the Library. When she watched the love that was apparent in Jayling’s eyes, she felt bad that no one had taken care of the place. She didn’t think it was ever even dusted. “Sorry we didn’t keep it cleaned, Jay. I hope the parchment isn’t ruined.”
"Not a problem, darling; I've transcribed many copies and have them safely hidden away. Now finding them – that could be a problem," the beautiful blonde snickered. “I suppose I’ll need to sort all this.” She sighed as she looked at the disarray; every table, nook and cranny was stacked high with new stories. “I’ll need a workspace.”
“Let me help – it’s the least I can do.” Without waiting for a reply, Shasa began clearing the table that was closest to the wall – window and torchlight would be a definite aide to the historian. She felt appraising eyes upon her as she worked, but didn’t turn back to face the beauty until she had finished.
Shasa smiled as she wiped a bit of perspiration off her forehead. “Seems only right, since I helped make the mess.”
“You didn’t have to… but thanks.”
“I did, actually.” Shasa smirked. “I certainly wasn’t going to fuck you on the floor.”
“You, uh, huh, what?” she stammered.
Shasa stepped up against Jay, keeping her hands to her sides as she simply let her body speak to the historian’s. The slut’s breathing deepened automatically, and with half-lidded eyes, a husky voice came from her full lips. “Forgive me, honey, but I just don’t want to roll around in 3 inches of dirt and dust. I’d much rather take you on – or bend you over – this table.”
Shasa’s hands moved slightly to rest on Jayling’s hips. The edge of her mouth held back her amusement, as she watched the blonde struggle to wrap her mind around the fact that the slut wanted to fuck her… now… here.
Shasa stepped forward just an inch. Her body pressed against the beautiful one, and Jayling unconsciously stepped back. Her rear instantly hit the edge of the table, and she jumped in fright.
Shasa grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her tight against her body. “Enough, Jay.” She soothed. “You act as if I’d ordered you sacrificed to Ares, instead of declaring my intention to make you cum a dozen times.” Shasa smirked at the dazed expression that still adorned her face, “Trust me, cumming is infinitely better than being a human sacrifice.”
The slut moved her fingertips over Jayling’s skin, lightly forming random circles and instantaneous lines of goosebumps. Shasa watched her fingers as she continued in a whisper. “Don’t you find me attractive, Jay?”
“Well,” Jay scoffed in muted tones, “of course I do, it’s just – ”
Shasa looked up, pinning her with deep emerald eyes. “Don’t you want me, Jay? Really? Can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to press your lips to mine? Right now you’re staring at them. Watching them move as I speak, wondering what they’d feel like against your pussies swollen lips, wondering if the tongue you’ve read so much about is as good as its reputation.”
Shasa’s right arm flexed, pulling the wench tightly against her. “Let me settle that question for you, Jay,” she whispered, “every word in the archives about me is true. I’m the best slut in town. I’ll fuck you, suck you, and grant your every wish; I’ll take all you can give, in any hole you claim. I’ll beg you, curse you, beat you, and take a beating. Your dreams are mine.”
Grasping her by the back of her head, the sailor tangled the fingers of her left hand in the short hair, and pulled her neck to the side. Shasa inhaled deeply through her nose and growled, “You want to feel me inside you. I can smell it.” Her voice grew louder as her passions were stoked. “You want me to force you over that table and fuck you. You want me to take you hard and you want me to take you soft. You want me to take you over and over, until your screams fill this room.”
Shasa looked Jayling in the eyes, released her hold on the wench, and waited a moment for absolute silence. When she had it, she smiled slightly. Shasa leaned in and brushed her lips across the blonde’s cheek, teasing the tiny hairs with her breath. As her lips moved to Jay’s ear, she whispered, “Just tell me I’m wrong.”
Jay’s breathing was ragged, her knees nearly buckled; coherent thought lost to seduction. “No,” her voice low and husky, “no you’re not.”
With deep breaths she tried to regain some semblance of control. Her face flushed and body trembled. Staring into those half-lidded emeralds filled with such lust & desire, nearly undid her. Shuttering her eyes, ‘too close, need to think. Oh lord, what did I say...’
Both of their chests rose and fell, nary an inch in separation, Shasa didn’t back off. She kept Jay pinned between the table and her own heated flesh. With trembling hands the blonde reached up and placed them on Shasa’s forearms. She tried to push her back to get a few inches of space, but the sailor kept her place.
She couldn’t look her in the face, though bowing her head was even worse; no blood, no scars, no knife – just creamy-white skin, large heaving breasts, nipples hard & erect -- Jay’s knees almost buckled again. Closing her eyes seemed to be the only recourse.
“Shasa, I – I can’t. It’s...” Shasa tilted her chin up, “It’s not you, love, it’s me,” Jay’s eyes pleaded understanding. None was shown, just a curious look signaling her to continue.
“It’s my defense... no, not a defense -- it’s what I use to, uhmm...” Her sandy eyebrows rose, “Well, you see, my chastity here at the Lodge has always given me what you could call an ‘upper hand’ of sorts. I’ve always used it to flirt and bait, stir things up beyond what would normally be considered acceptable, and even get a few wenches into ‘trouble’ in the process; all without having to suffer the consequences myself – though, yeah, those can definitely be rewarding too!” she chuckled.
“But I guess I just enjoy the mischievous power it gives me over the Butches, and the sticky spots the wenches get hookered in.” Cocking her head, “Sooo, if you and I go ‘n fuck each other’s brains out, I’d lose that upper-hand. That’s why we can’t. See?”
All those practice sessions went for naught while she mentally kicked herself, ‘oh gods, that sounded so lame.’
Choices were limited for the historian; follow the heart’s desire but risk
the horrific truth becoming known, or push her away keeping safe the precious
spirit of the sailor. Both alternatives sucked.
Conclusion -- The Slut and the Historian
Shasa's Index // Dj's Index
Main Library Stories