Now kiss…

“First impressions might last,” Kira admitted. “But surely not over a hundred years. I am not that whelp you found in the forest.”

“No,” Ayla said, her green gaze travelling slowly up the length of Kira’s much matured body. “No, you are not.”

Kira looked at Ayla, felt the pull of desire for what felt like the thousandth time, and decided to no longer ignore it. She took a step forward, leaned down, slid her hand across Ayla’s cheek and tightened her fingers in the blonde strands of the hair she had long wanted to caress. Their eyes met in that pregnant moment, dark meeting light. Was that a gleam of challenge in Ayla’s eye? She was not resisting the moment, that much was certain.

Click here to read Lesbia’s latest…

Seduction?

“When shall we speak?”

“Now, I think,” Ayla said, her eyes locked on Kira’s. “This conversation is a very long time overdue.”

Leaving Hope to guard Nive, and Mary to converse with a daffodil, Ayla and Kira disembarked from their carriage and made their way into the main fortress.

The witch’s stronghold was a place of wonders and riches, but Kira’s eyes were not interested in any of the treasures abundantly displayed. Instead they were drawn to the sway of Ayla’s hips, the roundness of her rear displayed charmingly in the soft silk which flowed from shoulders to the floor.

Click here to read this Lesbia update 🙂

Fleugh!

flag flag flag

Were you wondering about the current political landscape where Loki are? Would you like to know what issue is most hottest on the local agenda?

It’s been a while since I updated the site with local flavor, but that’s all about to change with this hurd hittung ernulursys.

Right now, we’re consiruuring chengeung ur fleug.

Why? I’ll let Prime Minister Juhn Kur explain why.

Naughty Princesses, Stern Warriors, Threatened Spankings…

Sounds like Lesbia to me! There’s a fresh little installment of the series waiting now, involving Ayla the Witch and Kira the annoyed warrior and two little brats who will not be deterred from erotic exploration.

To regular readers, sorry this series isn’t as frequent as it has been in the past. Life outside Lesbia has been rather more involved because reasons, but I figure something is better than nothing, unless the something is arsenic, which this definitely isn’t.

Click here to catch up on your Lesbia!

A Not So Reluctant Princess…

Nive’s hips began to thrust, need for pleasure taking precedence over her desire for virginity. Hope smiled triumphantly, enjoying the princess’ wanton reactions. It had been quite some time since Hope had lain with a woman. Kira’s endless demands on her time and rigorous training schedule meant that every moment she wasn’t collapsing into bed exhausted she was occupied in some non erogenous activity.

It was perhaps unprofessional to be running her tongue over the rise of Nive’s breast, or to be teasing the princess’ flowering lips with the very tip of her finger, but Hope did not care. Nive was breathtakingly beautiful, and the more aroused she became the more beautiful she was, pale cheeks flushing with excitement, eyes sparkling.

“You are a rogue,” Nive gasped as Hope pressed light nipping kisses to the side of her neck. “You are taking advantage of me.”

Click here to catch up on Lesbia!

It’s Getting Hot In Lesbia

Giggling from inside the carriage bought a temporary halt to Ayla and Kira’s serious conversation.

“Is Hope equal to the task of guarding the princess?” Ayla mused aloud.

“As long as the carriage keeps moving at a decent speed, yes,” Kira replied. “I doubt the blonde will risk the jump.”

A fresh burst of laughter from the interior made Kira’s stern demeanor crack slightly. “I barely remember what it was like to be that young, that happy. One’s wounded, one’s been kidnapped and yet neither of them care. The young feel no sorrow.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Ayla said. “Besides, you are not as old as you think you are. You’re still a sapling my by reckoning.”

“Well nobody is as old as you,” Kira said, her lips twisting into a broader, teasing smile. Her dark eyes danced with amusement. “I’m not sure how you get around without a cane.”

“I use my cane for things besides walking,” Ayla said, her tone suggestive of trouble for the warrior if her teasing were to continue.

More!

A Naughty Princess and a Mischievous Scout…

Lesbia has been updating, with tales of sapphic miscreants making their way through a fantasy realm full of adventure and disciplinary interludes.

Click here to catch up with the latest from Lesbia!

A little excerpt from the fresh couple chapters posted:

Hope drew her head back from the hatch at the top of the carriage and sat down, sighing.

“They’re talking religion,” she informed the princess. “Old people love to talk religion.”

Nive looked at her with a haughty but curious expression. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hope. I’m a scout. And I’m your guard,” Hope said cheerfully. “I’ll be making sure that you stay in, you know, custody.”

Nive’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that news. “I don’t want to be in custody. I had other plans. I am supposed to be getting married.”

“Married!” Hope clapped her hands. “How exciting! Who is the lucky lady?”

“It’s a prince,” Nive said.

“Oh.” Hope screwed up her nose for a moment. “Well. If you like that sort of thing, I suppose that’s alright. You’re sure it’s a prince? Not a princess who lost the last couple letters of her title?”

The Professional

A fun lesbian erotic short I felt like sharing… enjoy 😉

“No.”

“Yes.” Her voice is a purr, her eyes alight with intensity which overwhelms your senses and leaves you awestruck. She is smiling, and the word makes her teeth flash white just inches from your face. She is beautiful, she is powerful, and she is carrying a thick leather covered paddle with your name on it. Literally.

You could have avoided this moment. You could have made better choices. You could have cancelled this appointment. But you stepped into her domain with all the cocky arrogance of a submissive who is yet to submit.

She was waiting for you. Her curves described in leather, her dark hair loose about her shoulders, her makeup severe, crimson lips against alabaster skin. The previous meetings were nothing compared to this. Practically office work. A list of your likes, your dislikes, what you wanted to work on. She had her hair up then, thick glasses giving her an almost librarian aesthetic. You wondered once or twice if she would be capable of carrying out anything on that list.

“No.” You refuse again. It means nothing. No has lost its power. Your safeword is tucked away in your mind where you have no intention of accessing it.

Her hand twists in your hair, drawing you so close her lips almost brush yours.

“Yes,” she breathes as she uses her grip to press you slowly down, across the purpose built spanking bench, a piece of equipment exquisitely designed for a bottom such as yours to be displayed. It is built slightly on an incline, a padded bench covered in smooth vinyl, thicker at the end where your hips rise, buttocks bare and legs parting around the ‘V’ shaped base which makes closing them a practical impossibility.

You are on display now, your nudity a liability as she traces her fingernails lightly up the back of your left thigh, soft tingles zipping through your skin as they reach the curve of your buttock. She lays a light slap there and you feel the kiss of skin on skin.

The session is about to begin…

Barbarian on a leash…

The adventures of Lesbia continue!

Once Hope had departed the interior of the carriage, Ayla reached out and removed the gag from Nive’s mouth.

“I don’t think this is necessary,” she said kindly. “Once more, I must say how sorry I am you’ve been through such a traumatic experience. If it were possible to have conducted affairs more gently, we would have done so.”

Nive squirmed around to a seated position and gave Ayla her best expression of princessly refinement. “How much ransom will you be asking for?”

“No ransom,” Ayla replied. “We are not interested in returning to your father, or Iskendar for that matter.”

Nive frowned. “What use have you for a princess?”

“Fairly little,” Ayla confessed. “None, in fact.”

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Longing…

How long had she known Ayla? Longer than time itself, or at least it seemed that way. Kira drove the horses on, her eyes scanning the landscape while her mind drifted to thoughts of her passenger. The witch. The one who had always been there.

Immortality was not easy.

At first it had seemed like a blessing to stay strong while others grew weak and passed, but Kira now realized it was as much a curse. The world was a very lonely place when one faced the fact that all relationships were fleeting, ardent lovers turned to old women in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Only Ayla remained constant in an ever changing world.

Kira could not stop her mind from wandering along the curves of Ayla’s body. It had been a long time since the notion of intimacy between them had been a possibility. Ayla had first seen her as nothing more than a whelp to be whipped, and then a warrior to be healed, and then, well, the passing of centuries somehow did not afford an opportunity for any physical romance.

More…

The Trouble With Hope… (New Lesbia Chapter :D)

As the carriage pulled away and gathered speed, a dark figure appeared at the side of the road up ahead. Kira drove on, apparently unconcerned by the sudden apparition, and the carriage did not slow at all as the dark figure half-vaulted, half-scrambled up to sit next to Kira, who did not so much as bat an eyelash as the carriage was boarded.

The new passenger was a young woman with a round face, bright smile, and dark glossy hair which was cut short after the fashion of a page. She stared at Kira with a very pleased expression on her cherubic features, blue eyes brimming with pride. “There was an enemy scout,” she said. “There isn’t one any more.”

“Good,” Kira nodded, keeping her eyes on the road, scanning the path and bushes ahead for any signs of danger. One she was satisfied that they were safe for the moment, she risked a glance over at the young lady, letting her dark gaze run over her agile form. The young lady was clad in very light armor, black leather from head to toe, every bit of it sleekly oiled.

“Are you wounded?”

There was a nervous silence and a distinct aversion of those bright eyes before an answer came. “…No.”

More…