“But…”

“… I must first prepare for you … master?” Conan said. She had been given other instructions.

“I would watch you prepare then,” Khalid agreed as he stepped into the pool and lowered himself into the azure waters.

Conan’s hands trembled slightly as she picked up the kohl, the dark, oiyl stick cool against her fingertips. The earrings pulsed faintly, their emerald gleam mirrored in her previously smouldering blue eyes, now a vibrant green hue. Master’s instructions echoed in her thoughts, a command that over ruled her old self—Conan, the warrior.

Conan was suppressed beneath layers of obedience and desire, a lion caged, now a cute pussy. She was … Connie,.

The kohl’s foundation was a subtly scented oil with the sensual and heady aroma of jasmine and musk. She starting with her lips, slowly, tentatively, tracing the stick slowly along the full curve of her upper lip, the black pigment gliding sensually. She had seen many a woman perform this ritual to accentuate their beauty and it thrilled her in a strange new was as she performed it herself. She understood the allure now, an act that made her feel powerful in the way only a beautiful woman could feel empowered.

She parted her mouth slightly, the earrings gleamed and she suddenly found herself imagining Master’s cock there—thick, insistent, filling her mouth. Her lips lubricated by the pitch black oily kohl. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, her breath quickening, loins quivering tensely, as she coated her lower lip, pressing them together to blend the kohl into a deeply inviting midnight shade. Her tongue darted out instinctively, tasting the faint acrid bitterness, and she felt a warmth bloom low in her belly, her nipples tightening against the sheer silk of her top.

Next, she moved to her nipples. With deliberate slowness, she slipped one hand beneath the fabric, cupping her breast, the weight of it soft and foreign yet thrilling in her palm. She slipped off her top and her heavy breasts swayed, free and exposed. The kohl circled the sensitive peak, darkening it to a sultry obsidian, the cool touch making it pebble further, hardening into a taut bud that ached for attention. She imagined Master’s mouth there, sucking, or perhaps his cock sliding between her breasts, hot and demanding. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she repeated the motion on the other nipple, her body responding with a flush of heat, her clit beginning to throb in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Lower still, she shed her loincloth and parted her legs slightly, the air cool against her heated skin. The kohl traced her clit first, the gentle pressure sending sparks of pleasure through her core. It swelled under her touch, growing sensitive and engorged, as if begging for more. Her cock was no more, just this tiny sensitive nub that sat atop her nether lips. She closed her green gleaming eyes and imagined a cock—Master’s cock—pressing against her clit, teasing, before plunging deeper. Her sex grew hot, swollen, the labial lips parting slightly as moisture gathered, slick and ready.

She kohled her nethers with care, outlining the folds in dark lines that accentuated their fullness, each stroke heightening the sensation, her arousal building like a desert storm. Dark wetness, like tears of kohl, seeped between her thighs, her inner muscles clenching around nothing, yearning to be filled.

Satisfied with her adornments, Connie turned away from Khalid loungingin the pool, his dark eyes fixed on her with predatory hunger. The water lapped gently at his toned chest, candles flickering shadows across his lean form. She reached for the brass beads, the heap of shimmering necklaces cool and heavy as she draped them over her neck, letting them cascade down her chest like golden rain, clinking softly with each movement. She adorned her hips with the same beads