Hot sand…

Conan took a step out onto the hot sand, her eyes widened and with a girlish cry she danced back into the shade. “The sand is too hot!” She complained. She intended to give a smouldering grimace of barbarian rage but instead pouted prettily.

Sonja rolled her eyes. “Very well then my delicate little flower, I will carry you then,” she decided.

“What!? Wait. No, I can walk…” she stepped out onto the sand and her fists bunched as she bit her lip to suppress the pain. “Oh Crom! No! I am unmanned and nothing but a simpering little girl!” She said jumping back into the shade, gingerly hopping to and fro from one dainty foot to the other. “Do you have sandals? Slippers?” Her breasts swayed most disconcertingly as her soles cooled. This was most ignominious!

“No. Your former sandals are much too large for you now. I only have my boots. Nothing you could wear. Nothing that would fit. You are lucky to have those **** silks to be honest. Otherwise you’d be naked… which would be amusing… no. Hurry up, the day is wasting. If you cannot walk I will piggy back you…”

“Like a child!” Conan argued. “Never!”

“Did you want another spanking!? Is that your game you little slut? Argue so I will put you over my knee and spank then finger fuck you again?!” Sonja asked scathingly. “I have a riding crop in my pack somewhere I recall.”

“Wait? What!? Game… um, no. I… I’m not arguing so you’ll spank me again! That never entered my mind! I am not a slut! I don’t want you to… finger fuck me…” Conan argued, face reddening.

She looked down to find Sonja’s hand on her thigh. “You sure. Those nipples look like they’re hardening just a bit my little pet. Ten gold coins says you’re hotter and wetter than an Stygian slut… admit it you’re already all tingly with the need to be filled between your legs…” Sonja’s hand inched up beneath Conan’s shear silken loincloth.

“Stop fucking around! That’s not what I meant! Fine, carry me!” Conan capitulated.