The Spires of Wariz (Excerpt)
By Jade Blackmore
Copyright 2004, 2005
All Rights Reserved

Zoe returned to the penthouse at midnight, freshly bathed, coiffed and perfumed with help from her girlfriends (and a midnight raid of the Beautificants old stash of makeup and clothing.) Even though the penthouse had once been her prison, it bore no resemblence to the cold hedonistic brothel that Rannos had fashioned. The blood red candles that reeked too heavily of jasmine, the black velvet pillows and couches all gone. The parlor, now sparse and brightly lit. A work table brimming with books and computers replaced Rannos' plaster fountain.

The hustle and fray of rebuilding Wariz took all their energy, at least for the first few days. On the fourth night, as the citizens had finished celebrating and settled into a routine of fixing homes and clearing away the rumble, Chazron sat by the circular window that overlooked the central courtyard. Asteroids had destroyed ornate gold striped columns and statue replicas of Rannos' favorite Beautificants, and the citizens dragged the charred remains of the tyrant's debauchery off the palace grounds and into a nearby gravel pit.

Zoe crossed the room with a seductive swagger, buoyed by the new found freedom the high heels gave her. Now that Rannos was gone, the heels were a symbol of her emancipation. Once she had dreaded slipping on the sexy shoes, now it empowered and aroused her. After spending months with Chazron at the compound in tomboyish rags or simply naked, it felt good to dress up like a woman and entice him. Chazron lounged on the sofa in blue silk robe and pajama bottoms. Zoe insisted that he take advantage of the newfound cache of goods they had discovered in the dressing rooms, and he reluctantly agreed. Zoe walked up behind the sofa, every click of the stiletto heels exciting her as she watched Chazron stir slowly in his berth. He turned his head to look at her.

"Don't move," Zoe whispered. "Look straight ahead. I'll come to you." Silently, he obeyed. She walked in front of him, her already long blonde hair made thicker and more beautiful by the extensions the newly freed slave had offered to sculpt into her real hair. Zoe stood before him, taking a deep breath before staring at him, in her full seductive glory.

"I thought you might like to see me all dressed up. Do you like it?"

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen," he sputtered, his choice of words unusual in their simplicity. After days of listening to him talk about engineering plans and rebuilding the power grid in mathematical terms, such startled complementary words were a relief to hear.

Chazron stared at her, drinking in the sight of her in a long pink silk gown and silver stiletto heels with straps that criss-crossed her shapely calves. Zoe's hair, adorned by silk roses that matched the color of her dress, cascaded down her shoulders. Her tan skin was peppered with dennro perfume, distilled from the only plant indigenous to Wariz.

"I knew there was a breathtaking woman inside that feisty, barefoot little fighter. Come here, my love," Chazron ordered.

"Of course not. I got used to going without panties in the desert." Zoe teased. "It's kind of ingrained in me now."
Her delicate dress, now half hidden behind her body, had helped her accomplish her objective. After all, Jessie, the former Beautificant, had told her. "If a dress is beautiful enough, you won't need to wear it for very long."
Chazron eased his hands up her legs, feeling every curve, every muscle with his warm fingers. Zoe moaned, looking down at his gorgeous head between her legs. She mused his silver-blonde hair, and watched, with half-closed eyes, as his hand slid up her thigh.

The sweet, cool air in the penthouse only heightened her senses as he rubbed her pussy. Without the stultifying heat of the desert and the constant worry about intruders discovering them, Zoe could now enjoy Chazron's lovemaking without interruption.
He pleasured her gently with his fingers, arousing her until she felt her juices trickle ever so slightly onto her thigh. When she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, he set upon her with his tongue.
Zoe arched her back and grabbed onto the thick velvet cushions. She wanted to scream, but controlled herself, a reflex left over from the days in the desert. But he would have none of it. He stopped and looked up, the cleft in his chin glowing with her juices. "There is no one here. I want to hear you moan."

"As you wish, sir," she obeyed. "Now get back to work." She guided his head back between her legs and he licked ravenously. She moaned and squirmed on the sofa, until she could take it no longer. She reached down, caressing his cock with her hand until he could stand it no longer. Soon her beautiful dress was soon tossed on the floor. It had served its purpose, and then some.