Page 16 of The Princess Tied

She was silent and was probably mentally critiquing his planning.

“Yes, I figured that out, finally, Po.” He looked over at the stallholder, who waved.

“My name is Ruth, sir, most interesting traveler!”

“I am?”

“You are.” Wriggling and unfolding her legs, she stood. She towered over him, the horses, and her stall. Above her, the birds circled.

“I’m John.”

“You look in need of aid and therapy.” A grin spread. “Perhaps some of my toys.” She held up what was clearly a pink rubber dildo and waggled it. The thing looked miniscule in her big fingers.

He smirked.

“Oh! My goodness,” Po squeaked. “Is that what I think it is? Disgusting.”

He needed a gag for her, not a dildo. Today, anyway. Tomorrow was another matter. And… that thought ran off and spawned other thoughts. It wouldn’t be enough. Even if she were gagged, they would know her. She was right, word would have reached them of the abduction of Princess Po.

A bag over her head? They would look.

“Come, Princess.” Dismounting, he tugged on the rope leading to her wrist, making her dismount beside him. He left Rocky to his own devices. The horse wouldn’t roam, and the mare would stay by him.

Stepping closer to Ruth, he craned his head to see her eyes—and what lustrous green eyes they were. They reminded him of rumors of a green-eyed dwarf-giant, a dwarf who had suffered a late growth spurt and was shunned by her tribe. A woman who could see the future.

“Ruth?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I believe I have heard of you. You can see the future?”

“Ahhh.” She screwed up her heavy mouth, smacked her lips. “Not really. I am just a very good therapist.”

“Uh huh.” A pity. He could have used a premonition today. Perhaps she’d been here awhile? “Would you, by any chance, have seen some soldiers or soldier types, and a tall man with a cloak or overtunic…” He wasn’t sure what the Storyteller had worn. “… go past in the last few days?”

“I did. They had a coffin with a glass lid, wheeled along on a cart. A fair-haired man was inside.”

John swallowed. No. This cannot be.

“However, I do believe the man inside was not dead.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay.”

He let his gaze lower, taking in the array of rubbery things for sexual joy, and a glittery costume of golden chains, made for a woman from the sizing, with a cute diaphanous skirt, and this was meant to portray a…

His memory twigged.

“Are you in need of a Kostan slave-girl costume, sir?” Ruth inclined an eyebrow.

That was brilliant. As brilliant ideas were ranked, he gave it a ten out of ten.

“I believe the current erotic fantasy is of catching a slave girl and taking her home again, across one’s saddle.”

Thoughts buzzing, John picked up the top half of this costume made of golden chains meant to run beneath and around the breasts of the slave. “And you don’t tell the future?”

“Never.”

“Hmmm.” He peered up at her. “Would you have somewhere we can try this on?” Then he spied some red bondage rope that instantly hardened his dick. “Uh. That there too.”