Once a Thief..!

[Joshua_Jericho]

So, I was recently away for six weeks or so.. I thought I'd scribble something to explain what Catiline has been up to during my (and therefore his) absence. Probably in two parts - more to come. Part the 1st!

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Crouching on a thin ledge perhaps a hundred feet above the ground, Catiline was starting to think that this was not such an easy mark as he'd been promised. Duchess Katarina of Riverhome - a 'jumped up slut' by some accounts, a respected widow bereaved by the tragic death of her much older husband by others, and the holder of a particular gemstone that some nameless contact was prepared to pay a small fortune for - and well-known for the constant flow of disappointed male suitors she turned away.

Above him, the clink of glasses and warm flow of conversation continues merrily, a pair of voices in easy, light conversation while the wind nips at his ears and nose. The breeze carries him the occasional snippet.

"Really are too much..!"

"Hope I don't offend you, Duchess.."

"Please, leave the Duchess for formal audience. Call me Katya."

Cramping, he shifts - and nearly overbalances, the drop suddenly yawning far too close for comfort, before he latches, fingertip-first, onto a decorative stone gargoyle and drags himself back against the keep's wall, tucking in tight beneath the open balcony. Eyeing protuberance that had likely saved his life - a proud, jutting erection serving as a gutter, Catiline mutters a curse on the name of whatever Gods were tormenting him so, and settles in to wait.

After a half hour, the conversation shifts into a more recognisable farewell - the male reluctant, the woman politely insistent, until they fade away into another room. Never one to turn down an obvious oppportunity, Catiline springs into action - or, at least, clambers. It takes a moment to cajole his wind-chilled fingers into cooperation, but within a few stretches, he's over the edge of the balcony, and inside. A luxurious boudoir beckons - an immaculate four poster bed, a couch beside the two hearth, two empty wineglasses standing on the table beside it, a shadowed room that must be a walk-in-closet.. and a table set with makeup, jewellery stands, and three mirrors. Bingo.

Voices beyond the doorway - Katya, he assumes, bidding her gentleman caller a fond goodnight. Quickly, he scans the jewellery on display. The buyer wanted something very particular - a large emerald, set in gold, on a mithril chain. He opens one drawer, rifles through another, coming up empty, then throws a glance over his shoulder at the corridor. Silence. Deciding to risk it, he's into the next drawer before the refined tones he's been catching snippets of for the last hour murmurs..

"Stars above, I thought he'd never leave.. will you help me out of this dress..?"

Catiline goes very still. Confused, he turns on the spot, his features aghast, expecting a cry for the guards at any moment. Instead, he's greeted by the a woman's back - her hands lifting her red mane from her back to expose the tightly-laced dress. She waits a beat, then adds, impatiently..

"Come on, girl, I can barely breathe in this thing..! Must I have you beaten again..?"

In a flash of realisation, Catiline understands what's happened.. and what he needs to do. A murmured spell later, a dark-clad, dark-haired Catilina bows her head, and scurries forward with an unfamiliarly-feminine...

"Yes, lady, my apologies.."

The tone prompts an arch glance over one shoulder, a green eye regarding the transformed thief skeptically even as she fumbles with the laces.

"You're... not Cassie. Did she quit..? I didn't think a single whipping would drive her off..! I suppose I'll have to break you in, too. Hmph."

She turns back to the warmth of the fire with a long-suffering sigh - that merges into a sound of relief as the corset comes away.

"As you're new, I'll handle it from here. But watch closely - this is the last time, you hear? What's your name, girl..?"

With quick, deft motions, Katya unpicks the rest of the laces, then the dress all but falls away - the deep green peeling away from her pale skin in a wave. Catilina, despite herself, is spellbound by her - a classic hourglass figure with flawless pale skin and even less in the way of modesty than underwear. A soft cough breaks the spell, and a pointed look at the heels strapped to Katya's foot spurrs the would-be-thief into motion.

"C-Catilina, K.. my lady. Let me help you with those.."

The old injury complains as she kneels, but it's quickly forgotten as the half-cat unbuckles one shoe, then the other, setting them aside, before finally looking back at up at the contemplative redhead.

"Catilina... hm. That won't do. I'll call you Kitty. Now, it's late - and I doubt you've remembered to have hot water drawn, so I'll take my bath in the morning - just after breakfast, which I expect at dawn. And we'll need to get you a proper outfit - you look like some kind of burglar..!"

She keeps talking, but Cat's attention is drawn to the emerald resting between her breasts - and then, predictably, her cleavage. It's not until Katya reaches out and pinches one earlobe that he tunes back in to..

"Are you even listening to me..? I swear, the girls Ethel sends me get more stupid every year. I was saying, I expect all the usual duties of a ladies maid - and obviously a little more besides - dealing with the gentleman callers, like dear Einhart tonight, he was sorely disappointed, bless his breeches, but that can't be helped."

As she talks, Katya's crossing the room, all but dragging Cat with her, settling into a chair in front of the mirror, and all but thrusting a cleaning cloth into the thief's hands to remove what little makeup she's worn - then a hairbrush, which Cat takes up with a little more familiarity. Finally the redhead's satisfied, and, still naked, but wearing the emerald, turns for bed. Spotting the opportunity, Cat lifts a hand towards it, and Katya slaps his wrist away snake-fast.

"Not that one. I never take it off... but you weren't to know. Cover the fire, won't you Kitty..?"

Fighting the urge to sigh, 'Kitty' does as she's bid, shuttering the lanterns around the room and drawing a blind across the hearth to let the fire burn down. Once the room's plunged into darkness, only lit by moonlight from the balcony doors, she turns for the corridor to make a swift exit. She gets to the door before a stern voice arrests her progress.

"And.. where do you think you're going..? It's far too cold for me to sleep alone. Get over here."

Blinking in surprise, Kitty turns on her booted heel, staring back at the four poster. Surely she didn't expect..?

A sharp reprimand and hurried disrobe later, 'Kitty' finds herself the warming pillow of a gorgeous redhead, Katya having made herself comfortable with no concern whatsoever for what suited the 'girl' she believed to be her 'maid'. And, naturally - she's curled up with the emerald gripped tightly in one fist. With another silent curse to whichever Gods were charting his fate, Catiline settles in for a long night..!

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The next morning went no better. "Kitty" managed to rouse herself and renew her spell scant moments before the Duchess found a naked male in her bed - but the act of casting woke her redheaded liege, and the day's momentum took hold from there. A blink later Kitty found herself serving breakfast to a lounging Duchess, then bathing her, being fitted for a maid's outfit - and without the briefest opportunity to snag the emerald, or even to slip away and call the whole expedition a bust.

Instead, the day passes as something of a blur, with Kitty accompanying the Duchess on her morning duties, at lunch, to the afternoon's hearing of petitioners.. until finally, a servant brings news that the Duchess' gentleman caller of the evening has arrived, and shortly after admits a tall, sinuous dark-haired Drak Sen in a blue and gold tunic. Much as the previous evening, he and the Duchess eat, drink wine, talk, and laugh into the small hours of the morning - but this time with Kitty to wait upon them, pouring wine and clearing platters here and there.

When the time comes for the evening to end, the Drak's clearly reluctant to leave - hoping for an invitation to stay, or at least a goodnight kiss as an end to the teasing touches Katya's been placing on his arms and thighs all evening, but the smiling Duchess turns him down gently. When he's almost at the door, she adds, nonchalant, as if it's the most normal thing in the world..

"Oh, but you've been -such- a perfect gentleman, I can't let you go home.. unsatisfied. Kitty will help you out, won't you dear..? You can use the couch in the antechamber - just your hands, though, I think. Can't have our guest growing -too- enamoured..! Goodnight dear..! Be sure to wash up before you come to bed."

A briskly slammed door later, and Kitty finds herself standing awkwardly with a 6'6 Drak in the Lady's antechamber eyeing her up like a particularly delicious morsel. With a sour glance at Katya's door, he all but throws himself into the couch, peeling away his tunic to reveal the erection Katya had, no doubt, been deliberately teasing and encouraging all evening.

"Well? What are you waiting for, girl? It's not about to stroke itself..!"

An awkward, fumbling few minutes later, the door closes behind the Drak, and Kitty's rinsing his seed from her hands.. and the couch.. and her dress, still wondering what the hell just happened. Still, it's an opportunity, and the corridors of the keep lie open in the Drak's wake. She could be gone before anyone even knew what happened. But, the emerald - and she'd come so far now, if she fled empty handed it would all be for nothing.

The Duchess is waiting with glittering eyes and a smirk when she comes to bed, all but dragging the half-Cat into her arms.

"So? Tell me -everything-. Was he big? Cut? Was that his groan when he finished..? Was there much..?"

Her questions are incessant - and as Kitty answers, stumblingly at first, the redhead undresses her, and pulls her down beneath the blankets, all but wrapping herself around the bemused would-be-thief. As Kitty struggles to describe the Drak's manhood, she squeaks her surprise as a soft-fingered hand worms its way between her thighs.

"Don't mind me, go on..."

By the time she's describing how the Dream growled as he came, and pulsed between her fingers, spilled himself across her hand, and the couch, and her dress, Kitty can barely put two words together, let alone an adequate description - and she comes undone on Katya's nimble fingers a few heartbeats later. Sleep claims her under warm blankets, and she dreams of three emerald eyes...