By: Candace Chellew
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. The characters aren't mine. The story is not intended to step on the legal toes of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures in any way shape or form.
The story, such that it is, remains mine and may not be republished without my consent. Got it? Good. Let's move on.
Yes, there is sex between two consenting adult women. If you're offended, get out now.
Feedback welcome, flamers are laughed at with great abandon. Send mail to
"Gabrielle writhed in ecstasy under Xena's ministrations."
"Why do you keep using that word?" Xena interrupted, as Gabrielle read from her latest scroll.
"What word?" Gabrielle glared at the warrior across the campfire, clearly annoyed that she had been interrupted during her erotic tale.
"Ministrations," Xena replied, spitting a cherry pit into the fire.
"Because I like the word," Gabrielle answered curtly, feeling a little defensive.
"Oh," Xena shrugged. "What exactly does it mean?"
"Well, I first heard it used by a bard while I was in Athens, and according to the Academy instructor, Webstecles, it means 'to perform the functions of a minister of religion' or 'to give aid'."
"What?" Xena was mystified. "I'm no minister, how can I 'ministrate' to you, especially during sex?" Her final two words were an octave lower than the rest of the sentence.
Gabrielle sighed. Her warrior friend was woefully uneducated in the ways of bards.
"Xena, it's a metaphor."
"A meta-what?" Xena furrowed her brow.
"A met-a-phor," Gabrielle repeated slowly. "That's when a word denoting one subject or idea is used in place of another to suggest a likeness between them."
Xena was silent, and eternally sorry she'd even brought the subject up.
"For example," Gabrielle continued, "the lost mariner's ship plowed the sea. Ships don't plow, but it's a great way to describe the way a ship cuts across the water. Get it?"
"Uh-huh," Xena lied.
"So, the proper usage of the word ministrations means being ministered to by a holy person. But by using the word, 'ministrations' as a metaphor for sex, I can take our love making experiences a step further, into the mystical realm of spirituality," Gabrielle was caught up in the moment now. "Don't you feel our sex is mystical, an otherworldly experience?"
"Oh yeah," Xena said with a seductive smile. "I like to visit that world as often as I can."
"Then you understand my metaphor," Gabrielle smiled, finishing her lesson with a flourish.
"I guess so." Xena stared into the fire for a few seconds before continuing, "But I still don't like the word."
Gabrielle frowned. "Well, what am I supposed to use to describe our lovemaking?"
"What's wrong with real words? Why do you have to use one of those meta-thingys?" Xena was on the defensive now. "Why can't you just describe how I make you feel, instead of submitting to my 'ministrations'?
Gabrielle was incredulous. "You can't seriously be suggesting, Xena Warrior Critic, that I stop using those meta-thingys, I mean, metaphors, all together?"
It was Xena's turn to sigh. Why do bards always make long logical leaps without looking?
"That's not what I'm suggesting at all, Gabrielle," Xena replied, popping another cherry in her mouth. "The meta-whatzits seem to serve you well in your writing. All I'm saying is you could ease up on that particular one. It appears in nearly every scroll you write. One of us is always ministrating .. it reminds me of my monthlies."
Gabrielle put her scroll aside and closed the distance between them.
"Maybe you'd like the word better if it were demonstrated to you," she said seductively as she straddled Xena.
"I'm always better with actions than words," Xena agreed, wrapping her arms around Gabrielle's waist and pulling her in for a passionate kiss.
Several minutes later when they broke breathlessly from their kiss, Xena raised her eyebrow and asked, "Are we ministrating yet?"
"You'll know when you've been ministrated to, Warrior Princess," Gabrielle whispered in her ear.
Xena shuddered as she felt the warm breath of her lover in her ear. She smiled as Gabrielle's lips claimed the nape of her neck, sending small shivers down her spine and directly to her groin. A small moan escaped the warrior, bringing a happy grin to the face of the bard.
Xena concentrated on each new sensation as Gabrielle's mouth worked lower. She felt the straps of her shift fall away from her shoulders only to be replaced by the warmth of Gabrielle's lips and tongue. Xena leaned back against the tree behind her to allow Gabrielle more access to her collarbone and neck. Xena's moans became louder as Gabrielle took a breast in her mouth and gently rolled her tongue around the nipple. An uncontrollable spasm wracked the warrior when the bard began to gently suckle her breast.
Xena wrapped her hands around the back of Gabrielle's head, holding her tight to her breast. She took in the sensation of Gabrielle's hair as it ran through her fingers and down her arms. She marveled at the softness of her golden tresses, and the softness of her tongue all at once. It was this softness that she loved most about her companion. It was this softness that ultimately overwhelmed and tamed the hard warrior within her.
She was so wrapped up in the sensation of her lover, that she barely noticed Gabrielle had switched breasts and was now lovingly torturing her other nipple. Xena shifted on the log to accommodate the growing wetness between her legs. Feeling her movement, Gabrielle brought a hand to Xena's sweetest spot and began caressing her through the shift. Xena let out a soft cry at the touch, and began to move her hips against Gabrielle's hand.
Gabrielle broke her hold on Xena's breast and quickly reclaimed her lips. Gabrielle gently sucked Xena's top lip, a promise of things yet to come. Xena moaned, and explored her lover's mouth with her tongue. Gabrielle broke the kiss and looked deeply into the blue pools that held her soul.
"I love you, Xena."
"By the gods, Gabrielle," Xena breathed, "I love you, too."
Gabrielle smiled, and moved her hand underneath Xena's shift. Xena clutched Gabrielle's shoulders as her fingers made contact with Xena's center.
Gabrielle's eyes narrowed with passion and she moaned at the wetness she found between Xena's legs. It always amazed her that she had the power to bring this once ruthless warlord to the brink of sexual ecstasy with a mere touch. She had found the softness beneath the crusty surface of this warrior. The sense of power was intoxicating. She wanted to take this woman, now.
Xena was surprised to hear the bard emit a low, feral growl, as she felt the hand of her lover claim her wetness. Gabrielle gently made her way between the folds to the sensitive nub that held Xena's entire existence at that moment. Gently caressing it with her thumb, she smiled as Xena closed her eyes and moved into the motion.
The next sensation Xena felt was the most inviting warmth she had ever known. Gabrielle was on her knees, giving Xena the ultimate of intimate kisses. She wrapped her mouth around the warrior's core, and began to gently suck. Xena let out a long, slow moan and began to move her hips against Gabrielle's mouth. The feeling was exquisite, indescribable and delicious. Xena tingled all over, lost all feeling in her tongue and for a moment forgot her own name and what language she spoke.
Just as she was reaching the edge, she felt her lover make the final move. Three fingers entered into her realm of passion. Gabrielle began a rhythmic thrust inside the warrior, never releasing her from her loving kiss. The warrior grasped Gabrielle's head, and thrust her hips in time to the bard's hands.
It took just moments for the warrior to reach her zenith. She threw her head back and let out cry that travelers in those woods say they still hear to this day. A burst of light and heat erupted from Xena as she climaxed. Gabrielle clung to her, determined to ride the wave. She was rewarded by several more orgasms from the ex-warlord until Xena was spent, and panting for breath.
Gabrielle gathered the warrior in her arms and pulled her down to the bedroll by the campfire. She held Xena until her breathing again became regular.
"So, how do you like my ministrations?" Gabrielle asked with a smug smile.
"Priestess Gabrielle, I think I've found religion."
Disclaimer: Despite a startlingly good defense of the word "ministrations" the author still does not like the word. But, then again, maybe it's never been properly demonstrated to her before.
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