Forbidden Jewel [Gilead and Wisti]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Wistful Dream on 15-03-2010, 04:12:21</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Forbidden Jewel [Gilead and Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>15-03-2010, 04:12:21</strong>
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				The summer night was hot and stifling, pressing down around her with arid air that reached even into the depths of her father's grand palace. A yawn parted the deep pink of her lips as she stretched out on the large bed, not even the thin fine silk sheets that tangled around her legs and torso could provide a hint of coolness against her flesh. They were as flushed as the rest of her, of the room. Her legs kicked them away then with a sigh of irritation as the girl slipped from her bed, off the opulent feather bed and her feet sank into the plush of one of the many carpets that covered her room. Her father’s fire magic made the palace far too hot at times, and she reached her vanity, picking up one of her paper fans and snapping it open to wave it languidly, stirring the air at least a little to provide some sort of coolness, it was always worse in the summer months and at the moment it was the height of the fire season.<br><br>One tawny hand raised to gather back the heavy mass of silky raven black hair from her neck, holding it off to try and relieve some of the heat. She could feel the fine sheen of sweat on her body, slicking her like the oils the maids rubbed into her after her baths. Her slender nose wrinkled in distaste, this would never lead to real sleep and she was edgy after three nights of little to no sleep already. Why, she wonder, was she so uncomfortable in her own home? Vivid green eyes found themselves in the mirror of her vanity and she glanced at herself, assessing her body in an absent manner, what would her soon to be husband think of her? She was young, only seventeen years old, and with that came the first blush of womanhood, of true beauty. Her golden skin was firm, unblemished, and her body was toned, from her dancing and swimming. Most princesses lounged about, doing nothing, but she had the need to move, to do something, though her energy often dampened far too soon thanks to the oppressive heat of her homeland. Yet even with her exercises there was no denying she had a woman’s body, full, curvy, with long legs and high proud breasts. Her eyes were set beneath the dark arches of her brows, and the emerald stood out with her raven black hair and softly golden skin.<br><br>Safira felt her heart clench inside her, sadness touching her heart as she sighed and moved away from the mirror and her reflection; it didn't matter what her 'husband' to be would think of her. It didn't matter what she looked like so long as she served to be a pretty ornament, a form of currency for the loyalty her father desired. She would simply be placed in the man's harem, not his first wife nor the second, merely a concubine. She was of no importance, anywhere. Such harsh truths for a princess of seventeen to know and yet she did, for her father's women were not the type to spare her nor her father one to shield from information. She was only as useful as her virgin price, her worth in what he could gain from her. Was he kind? She wondered, idly toying with a strand of her hair; from the harem gossip she had over heard he wasn't. Yet still she would bow her head to her father in graceful action and marry the man for his will. But that did not mean that she would look forward to it, that she would long for it like most young woman did toward their wedding day. <br><br>She had always dreamed of finding someone she could love, like some of the stories spoke of. But love wasn’t for Princesses.<br><br>Safira plucked up a simple wrap, her body sheathed in the simple loose chiffon of her sleeping gown and she used a thin wrap, a simple bolt of sapphire colored cloth, to cover her breasts and make certain that anyone who saw her wouldn’t be able to see through the sheer chiffon to her more private areas. Her sandals forgotten and forsaken, she left her large suite, moving through some of the lesser used apartments around her, after all her father did not keep much in the way of females, and she had been given her own private section of what had once been a full harem. At least, from what she understood from the tales of her grandfather’s time. Her father seemed to have little interest in females, even his own daughter.<br><br>It stun, just a little, that she was such a disappointment to him, hardly worth his notice. The first time they had spoken in months had been when he informed her that she was to be wed. Her bare feet were like whispers as she moved through the familiar hallways, the beauty of the palace hardly affecting her. It was so hot and dry, everything seemed more brittle of late, which was odd, for the sultan demanded opulent perfection. But then perhaps he enjoyed the heat.<br><br>She reached the disrobing room just before the baths and discarded the sapphire linen, she had not needed it after all, hardly anyone was up this time of night, not outside of the guards who had to be. There was no relief in the night to cool the palace, she would have to ask the court mage to do something to cool at least the woman’s quarters. Her hands undid the simple clasps that kept her chiffon gown on, letting it slide down her body and sighing at the first draft of air she had felt. It was a slight relief, but a welcome one all the same as she reached to twine her long dark hair over one shoulder, the waves holding slight curls to them, but loose with the length of her hair. Absently she twined a lock of raven silk around a finger as she moved toward the sheer veil that served as a doorway into the baths, looking forward to the cool water sliding around her skin.<br><br>But her thoughts, focused on her upcoming marriage and the travel in the hot desert of Caelit, her homeland, were distracted when she came face to face with a muscular chest. Her eyes lifted, arresting green depths shocked as they viewed the stranger before her. She trembled, hands flying to cover her breasts, and she took an uneasy step backward, eyes darting over him, his bronzed skin, his dark curly hair, his vivid eyes. Her lips parted, to scream for help, a man should not be in this part of the baths, it was part of the women’s section and only eunuchs were allowed.
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