A SATISFIED CUSTOMER

The five officers raised their glasses and drank a toast of congratulation to the General, who acknowledged their gesture with a smile. One of the five, a portly pot-bellied fellow with wispy silver hair, stepped forward from the group and bowed.

“Our congratulations, General Shorsha,” he said. “May your birthday be a day of joy and celebration!”

“Thank you, Vorik!” the General replied, her fingers brushing her long black hair behind her ears. “I’m planning to give myself a treat today. No work, no parades, no strategy meetings. Just a quiet day in the town, a day of rest and relaxation.”

“Good!” said Vorik. “You deserve such a day, especially after your recent victory at Kroom Pass. Once again, your tactical genius fills us with awe and wonder.”

He bowed again, and the other officers did likewise. All were men of middle age, and all wore the red tunic and white trousers of the Army of Tilnon. An interlacing pattern of gold braid on their cuffs marked them as generals, a decoration repeated along the hem of the short red dress worn by Shorsha. All five men towered over her, for she was small and slender, and no older than their own sons and daughters. But, despite her youth, all of them treated her with the utmost respect, regarding her not only as their equal but also, at times, as their superior in military skill. She was the youngest general in the army and the only woman to ever attain such a high rank. So great was her reputation that the enemies of Tilnon recoiled in fear at the mere whispered rumour of her name.

“So, General,” said Vorik. How does a mighty commander spend her twenty-sixth birthday?”

Shorsha grinned. “She treats herself to a leisurely massage at the Military Baths. The masseuse is a retired sergeant whose hands coax every care and worry from my body.”

Vorik nodded. “I know the person of whom you speak. Anniva is her name. She served under me many years ago, when I captained the Fifth Regiment. A most worthy soldier, until a leg wound curtailed her military career.”

“She has found a new role at the bath house,” said Shorsha. “I last visited her three months ago, before I left for the Kroom campaign. Her patience and dedication are truly astounding. She spent a whole hour massaging the tension and anxiety from my shoulders.”

Vorik nodded. “A most diligent woman. Please send her my regards when you see her.”

“I will,” Shorsha replied, draining the wine in her glass. “And to you, my comrades, I offer my heartfelt thanks. It was most thoughtful of you to spare time for me this morning.”

The five generals bowed in unison. “We will always spare time for you, Shorsha,” said Vorik.

********************

The town of Tormaz served as the main port of embarkation for Tilnon’s army and was always teeming with soldiers. Near the harbour a large baths complex had been built exclusively for the troops, its two buildings containing separate facilities for male and female customers. An hour before midday, Shorsha arrived at the main door of the female block and was welcomed with reverence by the Warden, an elderly woman in a long white dress whose scrawny arms were heavily tattooed. A retired veteran, she had spent thirty years in the cavalry before losing an eye to an enemy lance. Shorsha greeted her warmly but was disappointed to learn that Anniva the masseuse had taken a month’s holiday.

“We can’t offer you a massage until she returns,” said the Warden apologetically.

“Is there no other woman with the necessary skill?”

The Warden shook her head. “No, General. Anniva is the only female among the personal attendants. Of course, there are the two men who serve in the male block, but they are hardly suitable for a lady.”

“Why not?” asked Shorsha. “If they know how to massage a man, then surely they can perform the same duty for a woman?”

The Warden shrugged. “Perhaps so. But it is forbidden for men to enter the female bath house.”

Shorsha rolled her eyes. “Such rules are tiresome. Please summon one of the male masseurs to attend to me at once. Which of them has the greater skill?”

The Warden hesitated. “Bellec is the senior masseur, but he lies sick in the infirmary. His young apprentice is available, but I fear that he may be too inexperienced for your needs.”

“Summon him nonetheless,” said Shorsha. “I have set my heart on a massage today, and I care not whether a woman or a man gives it. Now, show me to the hot bath, good lady.”

******************

Shorsha spent a leisurely half hour soaking in the warm scented water of the heated pool, which she shared with three other women: two artillery corporals and a navy lieutenant. The artillerywomen were rather nervous at first, for they had never before bathed with a general. At one point they offered to leave, so that Shorsha could have the pool to herself. But she laughed and told them that they had as much right as she to enjoy the pleasure of a bath. Surprised by her easy manner, they relaxed and were soon chatting with her as if she was a member of their own squad. She promised to visit their camp to witness a demonstration of their new catapults, which she herself had designed.

The naval lieutenant remained somewhat aloof, speaking little and refusing the sweet tea that Shorsha and the artillerywomen drank while they talked. Tilnon's navy ruled the seas and its personnel regarded themselves as superior to all other beings, including their army colleagues. Not even Shorsha's fame and lofty rank made much impression on the lieutenant, who spent most of her bathtime preening her blonde hair in a small silver mirror while trying to keep her ponytail out of the water.

After her bath, Shorsha wrapped herself in a white towel and walked dripping and barefoot to one of the small private rooms. There she sat on the long trestle-table, drying herself with the towel and combing her long raven tresses. She was sipping the last of the tea when a soft knock on the door announced the arrival of the apprentice masseur.

He entered the room, introducing himself as Renzo and bowing several times. Shorsha perceived his nervousness and tried to put him at ease by asking his age and other questions. She smiled to see him blush when he answered, but she learned that he had been an apprentice masseur for a mere three weeks. He was sixteen years old and hoped someday to train as an army surgeon. Like all the male attendants at the Military Baths he wore sandals and a short sleeveless tunic of white linen.

"You're tall enough to be a pikeman," said Shorsha, staring up at him as he stood before her. "But the Army needs good surgeons, so perhaps your choice is a good one."

"I'm too skinny to be a warrior," he replied.

"Nonsense!" said Shorsha, jabbing a finger at his bony chest. "Here, drink this!" she added, offering him the last drop of tea. "It might help you to stop trembling. A masseur should always have steady hands."

Renzo took a few deep breaths and tried not to look away when the General held him in her keen gaze. Her eyes were a soft hazel-grey but gleamed with a brightness that spoke of wisdom and intelligence far beyond her twenty-six years. Renzo returned her stare for a while, but her beauty overawed him and he lowered his head.

"I'll fetch the oil," he muttered quietly, his cheeks flushing crimson. "I have brought also a fresh towel that I will lay across the table."

Shorsha stood aside while he prepared the table. So absorbed was he in the task that he failed to notice that she had stepped out of her towel and was standing naked behind him. When he eventually turned around his eyes widened in surprise and his face glowed a deep shade of red. Shorsha smiled at his startled expression, flashing her white teeth in a grin.

"Don't look so stunned, boy!" she chuckled. "Surely you don't expect me to keep my towel around me while you massage my body?"

"N-no, General," Renzo stammered. "Of course not. But please understand. I have never performed this task upon a woman."

"Then it's high time you learned!" she replied, pushing past him to crawl onto the

table. There, upon a clean white towel, she lay face down, resting her chin on her

folded hands.

For a moment Renzo stood agog, his heart pounding, his knees quivering, his gaze transfixed by the vision of this petite young woman sprawled naked on the massage-table. Her skin was smooth and lightly-tanned, her legs sleek and well-toned, her narrow back tapering to firm rounded buttocks that reminded him of a ripened peach. A strange dryness cloyed in his throat and he felt rooted to the spot.

"Well?" she demanded, without turning her head to look at him. "What are you waiting for?"

"My apologies!" he replied, coughing to clear his throat as he rubbed his hands in the oil jar. He cursed his fingers, for they refused to stop trembling, and he feared that the General might think him an unprofessional novice.

As was customary, he intended to begin the massage at the shoulders. At once he faced an unfamiliar problem, for the male soldiers to whom he attended wore their hair short, whereas Shorsha's tresses were long and thick and reached to her waist when she stood. Even as she lay supine, the dark mane covered her upper back and swirled around her shoulders. Renzo wondered if she expected him to tie her hair in a top-knot, but she answered his question before he had chance to ask it.

"Anniva usually tucks my hair around my neck," she said, her fingers already beginning the task. "Like this, Renzo."

With his hands covered in oil he was unable to assist and apologized profusely. Shorsha laughed and tucked her tresses away from her back, before making herself comfortable on the table. Renzo watched as she writhed and squirmed on the towel, his ears barely hearing her muttered complaint as she cursed the stiffness in her legs.

"My thighs ache at night," she explained. "But maybe you'll be able to cure that today?"

"I'll do my best," Renzo replied dreamily, his gaze transfixed by her twitching buttocks as she settled herself in readiness for the massage.

He began the massage, working his fingers into the skin of her shoulders and upper back, taking care not to tug any stray strands of hair. Shorsha gave an approving sigh, murmuring something inaudible. Renzo briefly closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he tried to force his brain to curb the unwanted stirring in his loins. Beneath his short tunic his manhood was stiffening, and he was terrified that the General might turn her head and see it. But the more he massaged, the more his cockstem hardened. When his hands moved down her flanks to clasp her narrow waist his erection was already thrusting at the hem of his tunic. A feeling of dismay and panic throbbed in his chest, but it did not lessen the activity between his legs.

After massaging her waist he paused, making the excuse that his hands needed more oil, although the real reason was that he had no idea how he should proceed further. Normally, a male soldier would expect a massage of the lower back to be followed by similar attention being paid to the thighs, hips and buttocks. Renzo knew that Shorsha would expect this, too, but he had not yet mustered the courage to do it. She, however, was a woman famed for her intuition, and she realised why the massage had halted.

"Is anything wrong?" she inquired.

Renzo flexed his fingers in the oil jar and feigned a huge yawn. "Nothing at all. I am merely resting my hands for a moment, to regain my strength."

She gave a deep sigh and chuckled. "Are you still nervous?"

"Yes, General. I'm terribly sorry, but I know not why I am behaving so stupidly."

"Do not feel ashamed to admit the truth," she said. "I can guess the source of your anxiety, for your eyes betrayed it when you entered this room. I am barely ten years older than you, Renzo, yet here I am, a woman in her prime, stretched naked and shameless on a table, demanding that you touch my body. The fault, you see, is mine, for it is by my command that you are placed in this situation."

Renzo swallowed hard. "I thank you for your kind words."

"Tell me," she said softly. "Am I the first woman whom you have seen naked?"

"Yes, General."

Shorsha nodded. "I thought so. Then it is my turn to apologize, for my eagerness to find a masseur has embarrassed you." She sighed ruefully, clicking her tongue. "If you wish to end this session now, I shall not think ill of you."

Renzo wiped the excess oil from his fingers and leaned over the table. "No. It is my duty to complete this task. I am not a child."

Feeling now emboldened and rather less nervous than before, he placed his hands on her waist and moved them down her hips, clasping the flesh firmly as his fingers followed the curve and swell of her neat round buttocks. He saw the purple head of his manhood protruding beneath his tunic but ignored it, choosing instead to concentrate on satisfying the General's needs. His hands moved onto her thighs, feeling the sinews taut under his fingers as he kneaded the muscles. Then his hands retraced their path, moving back and up onto her buttocks, the thumbs pressing the flesh as they traced along the dark cleft between the firm orbs. He heard Shorsha moaning softly and a shiver of delight scampered down his spine. A bead of fluid glistened at the tip of his engorged manhood, which began to ache and throb.

Twice he repeated the movement, each time massaging back and forth over her buttocks. Then, using gentle pressure, he massaged each cheek with a circular motion, rubbing oil into the skin until the General's ass was slick and glistening.

At one point he pressed the flesh away from the cleft, causing it to widen briefly. For an instant he glimpsed the dark puckered mouth of her asshole and felt his head swirl at the sight. Shorsha seemed to be unaware or unconcerned, making no sound except a quiet purring noise, like a contented kitten.

Renzo next directed his efforts to her legs, massaging the thighs, calves and ankles before paying special attention to the feet. Here, he took great care to not tickle, even when his fingers grasped and kneaded the soles and beneath the toes. Shorsha's feet were tinier than any he had ever massaged, for he had grown accustomed to the large clumsy feet of the burly warriors who visited the male bath house. Her toes were so small and delicate that he treated them as if they were made of fragile porcelain. She clearly enjoyed receiving a foot-massage, for she purred louder than before and complimented him on his skill.

When at last he deemed his task complete he stepped back and wiped his hands on a towel, his eyes savouring what he thought would be his last look at the General's nakedness. To Renzo she seemed a vision of loveliness, her slim curvy body gleaming from neck to toe with slippery oil, which gave her tanned skin the appearance of polished leather. He gave a wistful sigh and clutched the towel at his waist, so that it hid the awkward erection from view.

"The massage is finished, lady," he said. "I shall leave you now to relax awhile. Call the female attendants when you are ready to leave."

He bowed, expecting her to dismiss him with a word of gratitude and a courteous farewell, but Shorsha merely rolled onto her back and lay with her arms at her side. Raising her head a little, she looked at Renzo and frowned.

"You have not finished your duty. When I ask for a massage, I expect to receive it on my whole body. So put some more oil on your fingers and resume your task."

Renzo went very red indeed. He bowed, then knelt to reopen the oil jar.

With his hands lubricated once more, he returned to the table and looked down at the General. He still clasped the towel at his waist, but Shorsha glanced at it and smiled.

"Are you going to rub me with it?" she inquired. "Or are you perhaps holding it for some other reason?"

Renzo gave no answer, but his cheeks burned a deep crimson, and he averted his eyes from her keen stare.

"Drop the towel," she said, her voice soft and kindly. "I know why you clutch it so tightly, but you need not feel any shame or embarrassment on my account. You are young, Renzo, but you are a man nonetheless, and a man's body is not easily controlled in the presence of a naked woman."

Renzo felt comforted by her words, but still prayed that a hole would open in the floor and swallow him into the abyss.

"Thank you," he mumbled, for he could think of no appropriate response.

Shorsha flashed him a white-toothed smile that pierced his heart like a blade of ice. "Men are such strange creatures! I know it better than most, for I am often the only female among a group of male soldiers. Not even my high rank protects me from the leers and furtive whispers that accompany me wherever I go." She paused to chuckle. "I used to dread ascending a spiral stair in a turret or tower. It was such a torment for me, when I was a young cadet, because the soldiers would jostle to be the first man to follow me up the stairs. Nothing is hidden, Renzo, when a woman in a short dress climbs a stairway. It used to bother me, but now I just ignore it."

"They should show you more respect, General," said Renzo, but Shorsha laughed and shook her head.

"The poor creatures can't help it!" she replied. "Nor can you, my young friend. So drop your towel, and proceed with the massage."

Feeling curiously relieved, Renzo flung the towel aside and took a deep breath. He was still acutely aware of his bobbing erection, but the General made no further comment and instead lay back with her eyes closed.

This was Renzo's first close view of a nude female and the vision thrilled him. He knew of Shorsha's fame as a military commander and had heard tales of her beauty, but the reality of seeing her at such close quarters, her body completely unclothed, exceeded every image that had been conjured by lascivious rumour. Her bosom gently rose and fell as she breathed softly, but otherwise she seemed as peaceful and as beautiful as the effigy of a goddess.

Trying to keep his fingers steady, Renzo began the frontal massage by rubbing oil into the skin around her neck and shoulders. Then, with both hands, he massaged each arm from shoulder to fingertip. Too nervous to touch her breasts, he next paid attention to her midriff, flanks and belly, the latter so flat and firm that he guessed that she spent many hours in hard physical exercise.

His hands clasped and rubbed her hips, feeling the bones beneath the taut skin, but taking care to not stray towards the triangle of small black hairs that so fascinated him. Once, after he moved his hands onto her thighs, his right thumb accidentally touched the hairs. The touch was so light that Shorsha seemed not to notice it, much to Renzo's relief.

As his fingers rubbed between her thighs she parted her legs slightly, presenting him with his first clear view of female genitalia. He paused, enthralled, gazing blankly at the place where the black triangle tapered to a narrow pink-lipped slit. He wondered how many people had become intimately acquainted with that place, for he knew that the General was no stranger to passion and pleasure. The Army was rife with stories about her bed-play with male and female lovers, the most recent tale reporting her romance with a famous enemy captive, a wild and gorgeous elf maiden.

Renzo moved from her thighs to her knees and feet, before returning to her shoulders and arms. Shorsha gave a frustrated sigh and shifted uneasily on the towel, though she kept her eyes firmly closed.

"Tell me, Renzo," she asked. "Do you always ignore the chests of your customers?"

"No, General. But it is different in the men's block. There are no ..."

"No breasts? Of course there are no breasts. But here, in the female bath house, Anniva gives me a full body massage. I expect the same service from you. Do not feel embarrassed about it."

Renzo bit his lower lip. "I know not what to do. How does Mistress Anniva perform the task?"

"Gentle squeezing, and a fairly firm rubbing. Don't use much pressure on my breasts, or you'll bruise them."

Renzo slicked more oil on his hands and placed them on Shorsha's bosom. When he gently clasped the round orbs he felt a familiar tingling in his erect manhood and feared that he was about to ejaculate. Into his mind sprang a vision that terrified him: his stiff cock spurting its juice over the General's body. He felt certain that the penalty for such a transgression would be instant execution. Thankfully, the urge to climax subsided, and the dreadful danger passed.

Rubbing and squeezing the shapely breasts of this achingly beautiful woman seemed to Renzo like the best moment of his young life. The two orbs were soon wet and gleaming with oil, which trickled between them to form a rivulet that meandered down to her belly. Shorsha moaned and purred, clearly enjoying the sensation. Beneath Renzo's palms her nipples swelled and hardened, her moans becoming soft gasps that hissed between her teeth. Her mouth half opened and her tongue licked her lips.

"Rub the tips between your finger and thumb," she whispered. "That's it, Renzo. Not too firmly!"

Under her guidance, Renzo toyed with her nipples for several minutes, his eyes widening in amazement as he saw her spine arch upwards from the table. Her legs and arms became rigid, her fingernails clawing the towel, her toes curling and her knees trembling.

"Fires of Hell!" she gasped through gritted teeth, as her whole body shuddered. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, running down her face until her cheeks glistened like the rest of her well-oiled body. Her hands twitched as she lay quivering, her sleek form racked by pulses of pleasure.

Renzo watched, awestruck at witnessing her orgasm. He recalled hearing a tale about a sergeant's wife whose breasts were so sensitive that she sometimes climaxed when her husband squeezed them. He remembered scoffing in disbelief at the tale. But now he saw that such things could indeed happen, as he stared at Shorsha in wonder and delight. Only with a huge effort of willpower did he manage to suppress his ejaculation.

At last, when the General lay quiet, Renzo withdrew his hands from her breasts and stepped back, awaiting her command. She opened her eyes and looked first at his face, then at the shiny purple cockhead that poked beneath the hem of his tunic. A wry smile curled across her lips and she lifted her eyebrows.

"Well, young master!" she said. "You have more skill than you know. Perhaps you should transfer to the female bath house permanently?"

Renzo smiled and bowed. "I am glad to be of service, General. I hope this session has been satisfactory?"

"More than satisfactory, but it is not yet ended. There is one final duty to perform. Anniva usually undertakes it herself, but today you must do it. Are you skilled with a razor?"

Renzo responded with a puzzled look. "A razor, my lady? Yes, I am often asked to shave the beards of soldiers, especially those from the northern garrisons."

Shorsha leaned up on her elbows, shaking her long black hair so that it hung down her back. "I have no beard, but I do have a mat of bristles between my legs that Anniva always removes for me. Do you have a razor in a pocket of your tunic?"

"Yes, General."

"Good. Then come over here and I'll tell you what to do. You'll need some more oil."

She parted her legs and Renzo rested his left elbow between them, thereby gaining a clear view of her crotch. Shorsha told him to rub as much oil as possible into the triangle of hair above her slit. He relished the opportunity to touch her so intimately and performed the task very slowly and carefully.

"A few hairs always grow around my cunt-lips," said the General. "You'll need to shave those off as well."

"Do you wish me to oil that area?"

"Yes. But don't rub too hard. It's the most delicate part of a woman's body."

Even if Renzo had tried to avoid slipping his fingers inside her slit he would not have succeeded. He neither wanted to avoid it, nor wished for the task to cease. When he heard Shorsha give a small gasp, he half hoped that she might invite him to insert his fingers deep within her cunt, but no such invitation came. He wondered what her clitoris looked like, and what it felt like to touch, but he dared not probe beyond the outer lips.

"That's enough oil!" she whispered, clutching his right hand.

He nodded, reaching inside his tunic to the inner pocket where he kept a small razor. Shorsha stared at the blade as it approached her crotch.

"How sharp is it?" she inquired, her hazel eyes seeming almost fearful.

"Very sharp," Renzo replied. "And I assure you that my hand will be steady."

Shorsha twitched slightly when the razor touched her pubic hair, but she relaxed as soon as she saw how smoothly it shaved the bristles away. The process often hurt a little when performed by Anniva, especially after several weeks' new growth, but with Renzo it was entirely painless. She gritted her teeth when he sheared the hairs from around her cunt-lips, but his hand remained steady and sure, true to his promise. When all was done, she peered down at her bald crotch and smiled admiringly.

"That's a very neat job. Your customers in the male baths are doubtless equally satisfied?"

Renzo nodded, feeling very pleased with himself. He walked around to the end of the table to gain a better view. The sight of the shaven cunt aroused him so much that he could barely speak. His cock ached and his throat felt as dry as dust.

Shorsha stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if something was troubling her mind. When she shuffled her buttocks along the towel, Renzo stood aside, thinking she was intending to swing her legs off the end of the table and stand up. Instead, she halted near the end and lay back, with her feet resting on the table's edge and her knees raised.

Renzo, utterly bewildered by her action, supposed that she was offering him a closer inspection of his handiwork. "Yes, General. A very neat job indeed."

"Finish it!" she whispered, her voice softening to a sigh. Then, when he made no move, she added: "I have an arrangement with Anniva. A special arrangement. After the shaving, she uses her tongue."

Renzo felt sure that he had misheard her. "A special arrangement, General?"

Shorsha rolled her eyes and gripped the towel in her clenched fists. "Do I have to explain it in detail?"

"You want me to lick your body?"

Shorsha gave an exasperated laugh. "Yes, Renzo. Either lick me, or fuck me. I don't care what you do, just do something!"

Renzo, his head spinning and his heart pounding, moved to the end of the table and lifted the hem of his tunic. His erect manhood bobbed eagerly as it approached the General's exposed crotch. The lips of the shaven cunt glistened, already wet with a mixture of oil and Shorsha's own juices.

Renzo gasped when the tip of his cockhead touched the slit, for the sensation sent a thrill racing down his spine. With another gasp he entered Shorsha's body, pushing slowly, savouring every inch of his cock's first encounter with female flesh. Her cunt was a hot, slippery tunnel that gripped his shaft firmly. Shorsha sighed when he reached the limit of his thrust and in a whisper she praised the length of his manhood. Renzo inhaled deeply, withdrawing as slowly as possible until only the tip of his cockhead remained inside her slit, before pushing forward a second time.

He repeated the sequence again and again, in and out, always at an exquisitely slow pace. Sweat poured down his face as he fought the urge to ejaculate, his eyes staying tightly shut. He knew that if he gazed at Shorsha's loveliness he would not be able to hold back his orgasm.

He felt immense relief when she climaxed, her gasps and moans rising to plaintive cries that he knew could be heard in every corridor of the bath house. She seemed unconcerned about the noise, and he was too absorbed to care. But her first cry startled him, and he opened his eyes. In that moment he saw her breasts heaving as she lay panting, and her dark eyes gleaming as she smiled at him. That was too much for his senses, and he ejaculated inside her body, spurting the juice of his loins deep within her flesh. Never before had he known or imagined such pleasure, the delight of which brought a gargled yell of triumph from his throat.

His cock continued to pump jet after jet of hot fluid, each spurt bringing a gasp from his lungs. Then, as the last drop trickled out, he felt his knees weakening and his arms trembling. Shorsha sat up, shifting backwards a little so that his shrinking manhood flopped out of her cunt. It lay twitching on the table edge, still oozing white juice from its slimy head. Shorsha gently prodded it with her finger.

"A fine performance!" she said, grinning as she shook the tangles from her raven mane. "Are you sure this was your first time?"

Renzo nodded, stepping back and struggling to stand upright. He restored his modesty with the hem of his tunic, but the wetness of his flaccid cock made a damp patch in the white linen.

"How will you explain that stain?" Shorsha inquired.

"I don't know. A spillage of massage oil, perhaps?"

She laughed. "If anyone asks, tell them you fucked a General."

Renzo smiled, offering his hand as she swung her legs off the table. He helped her to wrap a clean towel around her body. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Now I'll return to the bath. And you, Renzo, must return to your place in the male block."

"Yes, General," he replied. "But I have something to say, before we part."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining, waiting for him to speak. Renzo stared dumbly for a while, once again transfixed by her beauty. The spell broke only when her features creased in a puzzled frown.

"My lady," he resumed. "I wish to thank you for what you have done."

"Done?" she queried. "I have done nothing. All the effort was yours. I was merely a satisfied customer."

"But you gave yourself to me," he added. "And that was a gift that I shall never forget."

Shorsha grinned. "I won't let you forget. I'll ask for your services again, next time I visit the bath house. Anniva is a good masseuse and she knows what I like, but you have a rare talent, and I intend to partake of it in the future."

Renzo bowed. "I'll be here whenever you summon me, General."

Shorsha reached up to kiss him again, then with a smile she was gone, flitting from the room like a dark sprite or the shadow of a daydream. Renzo laughed quietly to himself as he collected the towels and the oil jar. He left the room and made his way back to the male block, heedless of the knowing glances of the white-robed women whom he passed in the corridors.

********************

A Satisfied Customer. Copyright © 2004 Trisha Monks. Return to Stories List