Undressing The Mistress

The course was set. For Liz had a plan, in which she'd lead this conniving trollop over to a place from which she could ascend and gain an advantage of height. Once there, Liz simply wanted to jump The Mistress and at the very least steal her garments. It would give the unruly crowd something else to look at. More to the point, it would also make The Mistress furious, and Liz though the domineering woman's sculpted features would look as beautiful as a bonfire with her cheeks reddened by rage and embarrassment.

Balancing between modesty and enticement, Liz meandered gyratiously towards the brick wall then along it, enduring a smattering of playful lashes. The chosen point for her land fall was one of the large gates from which no doubt hideous beasts timbered into the arena. With a tactician's squint the pirate watched her combatant's chariot circle around to delivery another melee broadside. Rising faster than a noticed adulterer's drawers, Liz climbed the crossed bars of the gate. The Mistress's lash took heartbeats to adapt and whistled high through the air to it's ascended target. A pirate nimble on any rigging, Liz wove her legs betwixt the gate's steel cage and swung her arm just as the whip snapped against her shoulder.

Though in mittens, her fingers found the leather strip before it could retreat to it's mistress, and Liz gripped tightly. This tactic or perhaps its effectiveness was not expected by The Mistress as she watched with a hearty mixture of surprise and pride. Her rapscallion waisted not an iota of her advantage and tied the whip's tip to the gate with all the skill of a seasoned sailor. And with all the skill of a seasoned ruffian, Liz dove from her perch. Unintentionally, her foot struck hard against one of the gate's hinge pins, a fact she didn't notice at the time yet would soon become aware of.

The pirate projectile wallopped hard into The Mistress with enough **** to knock many a drunkard into an ale puddle. A tussle ensued: The Mistress, possessing the advantage of strength, attempted to restrain, while Liz holding surprise made to worm her hands under the vixen's clothes. This leather layer clung vigorously to the deviless but, against Liz's determination, eventually yielded. A pause and a congratulatory moan overtook The Mistress as the pirate pressed mittened fingers past the second skin of leather between The Mistress's legs and vigorously explored the damp folds beneath. The rapscallion's advantage lasted only briefly, being turned against her when The Mistress clamped her thighs tight around the invited intrusion. The Jezebel rolled athletically and pinned the rest of the floundering captain beneath her boots. Discontent to lose so soon into her ****, Liz squirmed, earning many a moan from her lithe captor, whom, much liking the fingers struggling within her purse, sent her own frisky fingers to toy with the pirate's jiggling nipples in a similar fashion.

If the grapple had continued, perhaps Liz would have regained an upper hand, or perhaps she would have only suffered more of The Mistress's affections but Lady Luck had her own designs. With a calamitous creak, the gate unmoored itself from the brick wall and began a lumbering plunge towards the tangled women. To the credit of her body or her character, The Mistress moved very little holding the pirate beneath her while she tensed her muscles and thereby becoming like a marble statue to shield her foe.

The seemingly impending impact was preluded by a burst of sand from which emerged a gargantuan hand of demonic structure. In fact it's sight was quite shocking and made Liz lose all thought of the descending slab of steel and wood. Taller than a man though only it's forearm had emerged from the arena's floor, this hand had five fingers opposite it's thumb and a cruel blade curving out at the wrist. With the ease of a kitten relocating a tuft of string, this ginormous hand not only stopped the gate but sternly set it back into position with the echo of a magistrate's gavel.

Task completed the monstrosity began sinking back to the earthly bowels of mystery from whence it came while The Mistress returned to an erect stance. "Indulge me," she commanded, halting the mighty hand.

Liz too rose to her feet and wiped sand from her body afore abruptly reminding herself that her top was teat-less and as of recently quim-baring. Blush heated her cheeks more than the smiling sun as Liz's limbs danced to cover her de-dignified delicacies. She placated her last shred of modesty by wrapping her arms tight round her soft chest and burying her comely cunny beneath clamped thighs.

"That was quite clever, Rapscallion."

"Aye, so I thought." The pirate kept wary eyes on The Mistress as she was the slow circle of a predator. All too well Liz knew she may soon have to abandon the cause of covering in favor of evading the next imp-ly ****.

Cruel smirking split The Mistress's lips, as she completed half a turn around the pirate and affixed her with a merciless gaze. "Quite naughty."

Instinct sent a sudden surge to Liz's spine, commanding action. But such demand came a hair late, for keeping careful eye on The Mistress had presented the pirate's back to the demonic hand, and upon its commandant's que, it had taken advantage to wrap fingers tight 'round the pirate's trunk and arms. She attempted to make quockerwodgers out of all four limbs, but the gripping hand seemed unaware to these significantly inferior counter offenses.

"And how shall I punish such naughty behavior? Hmmm," teased the temptress as she swallowed the gap between them with the slither of a constrictor.