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The High Priest rules Raej with political acumen and charisma, but not all is well under the desert sun. As the years progress tension between Blood and Landen grow and are now nearly at a fever pitch. Odji Khaldun’s secret war against the Landen is not public knowledge but the workings of it can be seen. Blood and Landen die on both sides while Raej subtly prepares for civil war.
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Author Topic: A Soul From Out The Shadow  (Read 485 times)

Description: attn: Saif

Offline Tairi Kesket

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A Soul From Out The Shadow
« on: Nov 01, 17, 09:00:59 AM »
It hadn't been that long... only a few months.  But every few weeks, a slaver who was known for being a tad shady returned to the Darkness.  Some were obviously killed.  Others...  Well, others found themselves in 'accidents'. 

Amir Seket tumbled down a cliff after drinking too much at a party.  His screams drew people's attention - but no one thought it could be anything other than an accident.  No one had been near him.  He had been happy, and there were no enemies close by.   No one ever paid attention to those serving at such parties, especially when they reacted just as anyone thought a server should.  It helped that she'd un-braided her hair for the event.  Few could recognize her without her beaded braids.  The paycheck from that job had gotten a small bonus for having to deal with such a terrible event.  She'd been amused by that.

Ashkan Hamid choked on poison.  He was notorious for selling high caste slaves - most assumed that a Black Widow must have taken vengeance upon him.  Especially once they found that the poison was laced in his favorite moisturizing creams.  She'd helped herself to some of his hidden funds for that.  No one who looked into it would be able to complain about missing marks...not without revealing that they knew HOW he had gotten them.

Those were her two latest kills.  Those were the two she had mentally scratched off the list this morning.  Not every name in the ledger was someone she was willing to kill... yet.  They had to meet her own standards, her own expectations of what could not be fixed.

So far, most slavers didn't seem to put together who was dying off.  But she'd only killed a few.  And she was being careful.  She didn't feel like having the whole city ripping itself apart to try to determine who was offing their shady dealers.  She saw it as... cleaning up the trash.  No one ever thanked those who cleaned the streets - and she didn't want their thanks.

She did this for herself.  For the children she watched over. 

Her beaded braids clacked together as she rose from her table, stacking dishes and utensils together to bring to the server, as well as her small collection of marks for the meal.  She never brought the ledger out in public.  She kept it tucked away in her cabinet for when she was in a safe place.  She never crossed names out in it either. 

That just begged for being caught.  Today?  Today she was going to go to the plaza and see if there was any music worth enjoying.  Perhaps, if she was exceptionally lucky, she'd find a dancer to keep her company for the evening.  The season was winding down, and the festivals were starting up.. it was a distinct possibility.

She'd not seen hide nor hair of Rais Thuban lately... and that was a damned shame.  She missed his eyes, his body... his hair.  But it was for the best.  A Brother of Eventide shouldn't be involved with someone like her.  She was far below him - and he would bring her trouble. Still... she missed him.

Then there was Saif Nassor.  The councilman had yet to do more than speak with her the one time... but she found herself occasionally turning the male's mannerisms and appearance over in her head.  He was a Warlord Prince.  She'd never 'danced' with that caste before.  Her cousin had been... concerned.. when she returned to the caravan to continue spending time with him - silly male.  She'd explained that it had been about business, nothing more. 

Her cousin still seemed concerned.  You're too wild, Tairi... if such a male were to Rut upon you..
I am no idiot, Bakir.  If such a thing were to ever happen, I would act appropriately and be fine.  You worry too much.


She shook her head, thinking about that conversation.  She had been right.  Saif Nassor had not been interested in her for such things, no matter what he had said as their lunch concluded.  He certainly hadn't focused on her for a Rut, and other than the ledger she had yet to receive any word or direction from him or his guards.

A man of his word, this Saif Nassor.  She deftly spun around a male that stopped in front of her, neatly avoiding a potentially awkward situation before continuing on her way.  Or at least, that was what she had expected to do.  The hand that snapped out in an effort to catch at her purse was quickly caught, her body twisting about to rotate the male's arm until he bent over screaming.

She set her foot into the back of his knee, driving him to the ground before setting that same foot to his neck and pressing him towards the earth.  She tilted his arm a bit higher, listening to the satisfying pop and his scream before cracking a smile.  "Picking pockets is not honorable.  Attempting to steal from me is stupid."  She smirked, releasing the male's arm.  "Consider yourself fortunate I have only broken your arm, and not your neck."

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #1 on: Nov 01, 17, 11:10:48 AM »
She was resplendent in her masterful takedown of the young man who's presumption had seen his hand risk more than he was likely to be willing to risk. She showed him the error of his ways, decisively, and many cleared the area, wanting to avoid the violence on display. People scattered; silence began to loom surrounding her and the boy, this crowded market growing thinner rapidly.

Or so it had seemed.

"That will simply just not do," came the voice that boomed behind her. The thick, powerful voice rumbling like distant thunder belonged to a very specific male, and she would know it before she could see the shadow falling over her, and long before she could turn to see him. Arrayed at his side were multiple guards, who saw to his safety in theory, yet all stood at least a head shorter and many far less broadly than the man they ostensibly protected.

His coinpurse would be summoned forth, and he would toss to the ground beside the damaged boy wealth that likely far exceeded the contents of Tairi's purse. It was tossed to the soil as if it bore no meaning to the Councilor's pockets, and it was very likely this was extremely accurately the case. The purse would be vanished just as quickly, and he would nod his head to the thieving boy.

"There is money there to pay for a healer's service; there is more to pay for your discretion. Forget that you met the woman you wronged, or that you met myself. Is this clear to you, boy?" the Warlord Prince inquired, his question clearly being not much of a question. For some reason, the man had a desire for the boy to not complain of this event or cause further aggrievance to Lady Kesket. In truth, he was likely the sort of man who was just as willing to kill the boy and bury him in a grave, so the brooking of no argument in his voice left the boy trembling with the fearful respect he should've shown Tairi. A woman just as likely to end a life as the man who had encouraged her artistry.

"Leave him to his pain," he insisted of the murderer who he had courted to expound upon her abilities on their prior meeting. Saif would extend his hand to Tairi, offering her a hold if she wished it, to help her ease off of the young man and his neck and to more gently find her footing again on the street.

He who was appreciative of the boy's exit, which would happen once presumably Tairi loosed his neck. If freed, he would be scampering with a guarded grasp of his arm towards his freedom, leaving the Merchant Council's head of trade far more alone with Lady Kesket here in the sands. Although, for him, alone was hardly a term that was complete, considering the company that flanked him perpetually. Their many mouths had enjoyed the meal she had guided them to on their previous encounter, and he was ponderous of her with the same look of interest that he had possessed before biting into the food she had introduced him to a few moons prior. The markets were beginning to return, people pushing back in from their frenzied distancing of the rage of a jeweled woman exacting revenge. Most did not hold jewels even as strong as her own, and the display she put on scattered them like sand in the wind. But, so, too, does the wind turn. Their isolation reduced by the moment, but his smile did not, broad and almost predatory as he regarded the little Witch.

“It seems to me that you have kept busy,” he offered, admiringly, his presence not well explained, but it did seem unlikely to be as much of a coincidence as it might be implied to have been. The Warlord Prince was as boisterous as he was alternatingly taciturn, and he certainly volunteered little to her now as to his appearance, while his hand also did not volunteer to liberate hers from his own after the graceful assist he offered found her dainty hand in his strong, broad grip.



Offline Tairi Kesket

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #2 on: Nov 01, 17, 11:29:17 AM »
That voice.  She didn't flutter her lashes, or close her eyes - his voice wasn't the smooth silk and dark nights that Rais Thuban's was.  But his voice DID catch her attention, hold her in its sway as easily as it had before.  She had a penchant for collecting music, sounds, dances... and she liked the sound of his timbre.

So when he dropped money for the pick pocket, she sighed.  It seemed that he wasn't going to allow her to really drive the point home on this one.  True... she could kill the boy anyways.  There was no law against it - but to do so once Saif Nassor had made it clear he preferred the boy to live?  The Price might be too high.

So while she seemed to hesitate in releasing the cretin... she smiled.  Like a cat playing with a possible bit of food.  Leave him to his pain.  "Such mercy."  She finally raised her eyes to his hand, clasping at it without the same hesitation she'd shown to release her prey.  She even used his arm to ensure that she didn't 'accidentally' crush teh boy's neck beneath her foot.

Watching him scamper off amused her, even as she then turned her face back up to watch Saif Nassor's face.  It seems to me that you have kept busy.  Those eyes were looking at her, as if into her, and she felt that smile twitch upon her lips.  Such looks usually seemed to intimate interests - but if Saif Nassor was interested, he did not maneuver in the way she was accustomed to achieve reciprocation.

Still, she didn't let loose his hand either.  "I do what I can to get by."  Her head cocked to the side, fingers feeling the pulse of his heart in his hand.  His flesh was firm, the muscles of his palm steady beneath her fingers. 

She had half a mind to see if she could make those muscles twitch, should he let her get her hands on him in a more intimate fashion.  The thought had her chuckling, lashes lowering for a moment before she gave herself a light shake to clear her thoughts.  "To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Prince Nassor?"

For the moment, she could allow herself to truly forget the blood she'd shed over the last few months.  That he had put together that she was responsible for the deaths was not all that surprising - he'd given her the ledger and some of the slavers had keeled over shortly after.  Some in 'accidents', and some not.  All in different ways.  Nothing to tie them together other than their shady practices in slavery.. and that was hardly enough for anyone to really go on.

She'd been careful - especially with his warning that he had tracked her before. 

She wasn't altogether certain why he'd come upon her this day - she'd been performing admirably, seeing to her own goals and indirectly to his - whatever they might be.  She couldn't find a reason within her to be upset at the visit though.  There was something scintillating about dancing in his attentions... as if she could be devoured at any moment should she make a misstep; or perhaps even if she made the right steps.

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #3 on: Nov 01, 17, 12:05:13 PM »
She asked of him his reasons for visiting her, and he laughed, but it was not a friendly laugh. It was chiding, and there was darkness that ruminated within it as it wafted through the heavy air. Heat beat down upon them, and all surrounding, Raej fighting hard against the coming of Fall, its last battle against its imminent opponent. He reveled in this weather, and seemed wholly unbothered by it; but wholly bothered by something else, clearly, the violence whispered in his laughter proof enough of that.

"You are in my markets," the giant man explained , reaching his hand forward to find her beaded hair, which he dawdled with idly, letting the coiled hair roll along his hand. He seemed, at the moment, more interested in the well-woven work done in her locks than he was in the woman who possessed them, his interest focused there for some moments. One strand chosen, and then the other, lifted, rolled and dropped, examined as if they were a commodity, rather than caressed as one might do to a lover’s.

"Here is where the goods trafficked through our borders are sold. So it is here that I facilitate the traders who move it to these stalls; I represent these wholesellers, while my colleague represents the Merchants who turn their business to you and yours, on this street. You have done violence in my place of business, and I have stopped you," he further warned, perhaps, though his warnings, even though threateningly severe, seemed strangely warm in his throat, honeyed as he spoke them, lacking the cruelty one would expect of a proper threat.

"Do you remember all that we discussed?" he asked, still not bothering to look upon her, rather admiring her hair, which he allowed to rest again upon her, before fingers slid along its length, down over her scalp and down its length. It was an intimate, affectionate touch, but it also at the same time managed to remind her of the power of his grip and how assuredly he could all but encircle her skull with his two hands, should he wish it.

The rattlesnake played with her, in the midst of this street, in the very place where she had in turn humiliated a young, grasping thief only moments before. Noise began to return to the area, but the guards served as something of a shield, projecting a bubble within the middle of this street, one from which only they existed. Still, his voice was low and conspiratorial.

It was clear he expected she might have an answer to his words; something that might inform his current actions. But he allowed her to dangle, allowed her to scramble to find the words that he must clearly have sought from her. His other hand did not release hers, allowing his broad thumb to brush across her palm as they held their grip, tender and affectionate in a way that belied the darkness promised in both his question and in the caress of his hand against her well-worked hair. He was a dichotomy, and allowed the mystery to deepen.



Offline Tairi Kesket

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #4 on: Nov 01, 17, 01:01:02 PM »
That laugh suggested cruel things.  It should have terrified her - but it really didn't.  Tairi's gift was in rolling with the punches.  She couldn't get away from Saif Nassor once he was within ten feet, not really.  And she knew it.  She also knew his guards would make things rather difficult if she wasn't given much room - and since there was no possibility of her being able to run... she simply saw no point in paying attention to fear.

It was THERE... but it didn't rule her.

He still had her hand, and he was... perusing her hair.  Like he was looking at something he might want to buy.  There was a decidedly more dangerous glitter in her eyes as she watched him.  She was NOT a slave, and she was not an object to be pet and manhandled.

But neither was she stupid.  So long as he didn't try to slap a collar on her throat, she'd tolerate it.  Especially as he was a Warlord Prince that outstripped her in Jewels... she needed to be smart about how she handled whatever temper he roused in her.

Do you remember all that we discussed? 

"Our last meeting has been burned into my memory, Prince."  She said it succinctly, her chin lifting in a bit of challenge as he finally let her hair drop.  Not that he stopped petting her head... the large palm of his was brushing over her scalp as if she was some sort of... well, she wasn't sure.

But it didn't feel like the touch of someone interested in bed games... no matter how much the strange gentility of his thumb against her palm suggested otherwise.

"What is it you want, Prince Nassor?"

Darkness help him if he says me in a collar on my knees.  It wouldn't be the first time she'd heard that line... she thought it must be part of a slaver's job description, stupid lines like that.  Not that she would necessarily mind being on her knees for him - just not with a damned collar around her throat.

Her free hand went up, sweeping her braids over her shoulder to let them clack into place as she stared up at him.  "I find myself... uncharacteristically confused at the moment."  Her lips twitched, as if she was fighting off a smile.

She was being honest of course.  Usually she could determine quite quickly what people desired of her during interaction.  With Saif Nassor... she wasn't certain if he was just trying to torment her, seduce her, or warn her.  Perhaps he was doing all three.

But if he was trying to warn her, it wouldn't work.  She hadn't done anything that he hadn't already seemed to approve of.  And if he was upset that she'd committed violence in his street... well... her lips curved into a deeper smile.  She hadn't killed the boy. 

She could have.

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #5 on: Nov 03, 17, 04:14:46 PM »
Sweating only lightly in this heat, the last of summer’s gasp as Fall consumed it all, he admired the same moisture the air creased along her skin as he examined her so closely. She could all but feel the heat of his breath against the moist air, as he held her within a reach that many would run scrambling from, but she showed bravery and hope in her hold. Even if he could all but scent her discomfort and encroaching fears or worries.

She was definitely appearing uncomfortable in this moment, and his eyes narrowed in careful contemplation of her behavior. As if perhaps he was as uncertain as she was, but the smile that kept teasing itself to life belied perhaps some of that innocent appearance. If he lacked any clarity, he did not seem to sift for any from the murderous witch. She did not directly answer his question, and that seemed to sour his expression, when she deflected his query with only a mention of its burning. This made him wish so very sharply to grasp her hair and do far more than caress, but he chose against impulse, and chose the exact opposite.

The Rose assassin asked her question, and he chuckled under his breath before granting it his response. "So very many things," he admitted, his hand drifting from her hair. But the dangerous man made no effort whatsoever to stop the gentle brush of his thumb in the hand that she had chosen not to surrender; the grip was not cloying. Should she distance herself, there would be no resistance to her extrication. She deflected the full depth of her answer; he deflected his, but gave her some small grant of comfort in this moment as his hand left her for this moment. He was rather certain he was not done grasping her, however.

Though the other hand remained, assuring her of interests that did not appear to align with the rest of him. "Tell me," he demanded, gently despite the gruffness always present in his voice, plying from her the confusion she stated, and more. "And tell me all the things I told you before. Tell me your thoughts today. IF you wish it, privacy can be attained before the telling," the Rattlesnake further coaxed, and nodded his head forward. The guards grew alert, preparing to move, and he would do just that himself; guiding them towards a warehouse building just behind these markets. It did not look unoccupied, as someone only just then left the building with a box of goods on a trolley he rolled into the market. Yet they were definitely heading that very direction. Intimately, confusingly, he never let that hand leave her own; perhaps he was still waiting for her to take that action of her own.

"I like to check in on my friends," he suggested, sensing it might behoove her to be put at ease; or as eased as anyone who does business with Prince Nassor may be. He did not refer to her as property, or as enemy, but as friend, hoping to assure her of some safety in the coming moments when they sought out privacy. Confused or worried now, he knew, could very well be fear when she had no easy access to an escape that might otherwise let down defenses. And he wished very much for her to panic; not yet.

At their approach, there was a man inside the warehouse who was visible through the doorway. He began to call out things sharply as they approached, and if she strained just right, she might hear it; ‘we are all to break for late lunch’, he declared loudly. For him, fear almost shuddered off of him, pouring free in waves as this foreman hustled their employees to abandon the building that they approached.

It seemed he was known, but it did not seem they were expected. Those within desperately scrambled to leave the establishment as the group approached with Tairi presumably yet in tow on his arm.



Offline Tairi Kesket

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #6 on: Nov 03, 17, 09:13:53 PM »
So very many things.  She caught her breath at that response, her eyes lidding a little as she seemed to contemplate the ways she could take that answer.  She could have tried to pull her hand back, but she did not.  It felt... nice.  She'd never actually had someone quite as large as him be so close for so long, and certainly not in any sort of intimate or touching posture.

In fact, she was certain she'd never been around anyone as large as him in her life... nothing came to mind.  So it was likely unwise to remain so close... but she chose to do so anyways.  He wasn't threatening harm.  Not yet, anyways.

He told her to tell him of her thoughts, of what she had been doing.  She nodded at the offer of privacy, and looked about as he led her along the market to a warehouse.  Seeing people scatter had her lips twitching in a smile.

Saif Nassor was a terrifying male, she knew that.  Plenty of people, undoubtedly, had every reason to run away from him.  She knew that running wasn't really an option - not unless she was willing to run through the Gate or into Shalador.  But she didn't think she would have to.

At least, not because of Nassor.  Especially not once he brought up the word 'friends'.  He seemed to be trying to reassure her, in his own way.  Warlord Princes, it seemed, were not good comforters.  Her lips spread wider into a smile before she tilted her head to the side and curled some of her fingers in her braids.

"You gave me advice about being more careful when I killed, Prince Nassor.  I took your advice to heart."  She clicked her tongue once, and turned her eyes down to watch his thumb brush against her hand.  "Your offer of the ledger was most useful... and I have been studying the people named within."  So far, she'd only handled a few of them.  But then, she was very much intent on ensuring she chose her targets wisely.  She wanted to make sure they had earned her ire. 

"As far as my thoughts.. At this moment, I find my thoughts wandering between nervousness at this little visit..."  Her hand slid from her braids to settle atop his, trapping his large hand between hers.  "And wondering about you.  Now that you call me a friend, I find I am much more at ease."  Those green eyes tilted up to watch him, amusement glittering in her face. 

"I am also wondering what draws you to seek me out for such work, Prince... I hardly advertise."

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #7 on: Nov 06, 17, 05:44:02 PM »
She spoke, and he listened. While she spoke, the patient villain smiled and calmly guided her into the warehouse. It very quickly emptied about them. She did not catch many faces; his guards moved around them, blocking easy view of her. He was clearly viewed, likely, as his head peeked above the wall of danger that surrounded the two of them. But she heard their footsteps, saw flashes of them as they passed, and knew that this place was being emptied for them.

She admitted he declared she had to be more careful, and he let his head roll from side to side in a moment of quiet hemming and hawing. "Yes, I tell you this, to be careful. I mean this in all ways - assassins cannot bring to themselves attention. You kill this boy, you cut his hand free, these things get told to others. Your face is remembered, your person is remembered. Hidden killing is a sin to the blood; the sinner must live a quiet, unassuming life, or at least, a full and thrilling life that does not make one imagine you a killer."

He was chastising her, and explaining what displeasure he might hold with her from that performance in the street. Clearly, he wasn't entirely satisfied with her impetuous show of violence against the young man. It was right for her to do; but it was a thing a killer would do, and she was meant to be as far apart from a killer as she could. A pretty, supple young thing with such a light jewel one might consider her weak, which was a foolish thought, but one that protected her.

And it was a protection he valued her maintaining, it seemed. Her hands encircled his, though, and it was a fair thing; he had not released hers, and he had not raised his voice against her. The Rattlesnake smiled, pleasantly, and acted charmingly as he could, his voice sedate and reasoned. This was the smile and the voice the prefaced the death of many, in quiet places like this newly emptied warehouse.

With his fingers snapped, the guards moved, one through a warehouse door inside, and another after him, the rest moving to the street. If she reached out with her senses, one of those out the front door moved along the side of the warehouse, then. They were left alone-- relatively. They were all very close, and a web was bound between Saif and the men, of a light enough jewel she could sense it if she had the means and motives to check for the magics worked upon him. Perhaps it was a safety precaution just for her; perhaps it was a safety precaution in general. Perhaps it was not even a safety precaution at all, and some other web, but the jewel for it was - while light enough to sense - darker than hers, and bound well.

"You seem to forget a thing I told you," he chided, tsking quietly, chiding her anew. She drew close, speaking uncertainly about their interaction, and the actual mood of this interaction. She was rather fluttering, really, and he found it terribly endearing that he had her so off-balance. The woman clearly preferred control, in most senses; he was amused to see her stumbling now. Clearing his throat after a moment, he moved closer, letting her hold that large hand between hers, as his other slid to find purchase at her hip; fingers slid up over cloth to find warm skin just above the hemmed line of her pants. He appreciated the masculine wear, the refusal of conventions. The strength of his hand showed that clearly as his grip moved to flatten out, nails dragging against her back as his hand circled about her before beginning to drag up, his eyes dancing with amusement and mirth yet while regarding the young thing before him.

"I asked you, let me think my words..." his eyes drifted for a moment, and he began speaking, without even looking upon her. "I believe it was 'I would show you what other ways you can serve. Likely on this table, while my men look on in admiration and lust'. And then I bid you... to think on those words."

His eyes turned, settling back on the woman who seemed so small and fragile before him, his hand clasped by hers turning so he could grasp her wrist. Pulling her hands down with his own, he pushed her against the front of his own breeches, letting her feel the dangerous serpent that lay within its confines. There was less amusement now in his eyes, and more fire; yet that mirth remained. He was played with her, as a predator might its prey, but this game did seem different now. "And I urged you, this I remember best, 'You can tell me your dream next time and we see if my day is free to test your imagination'."

The man's head tilted, his long hair hanging free, draping into the air as he pondered her now, a smirk coiling dangerously on his thick lips. "I have reminded you; now I ask; did you dream? Share your dream, my little viper. My day may be just free enough to hear this imagining." His voice was thick, but not replete with desire. Intensity yes, and a heat that washed over her with every slowly drawled sentence worked free of his heavy lungs. He hid want well, if he had it; but more than even an idle touch would rouse proof that he was not absent of an interest in just what he described. And the impressions made into the leather he wore would be promising as to what beast it contained. The man’s purpose in a former life was not merely as a slave of labor, and there were clear reasons that she now clearly had evidence of, even if she had not yet uncovered the full weight of its truth.

He did not quite answer her question about what inspired him to seek her out; it seemed he had other curiosities of hers in mind to satisfy, perhaps.



Offline Tairi Kesket

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #8 on: Nov 06, 17, 09:20:28 PM »
She lifted an eyebrow, and then scowled a little as he reprimanded her about putting that attempted pickpocket in his place.  Sure, she could understand his point.. He wanted her to not be suspected of anything.  And who would suspect a thing like her of killing so many? 

She didn't argue.  One, it was a fool's errand to outright argue with a Warlord Prince of any Jewel Depth.  Two, she found it easier to not argue with most and simply do as she pleased anyways.  But his first bit of advice hadn't been bad, and perhaps - though she hated to concede it due to her own pride - he might be right about this little bit of wisdom as well.

You seem to forget a thing I told you.

Oh no she hadn't.  She'd simply assumed he meant 'business'.  Not pleasure.  As his words made clear that he was thinking of that last parting shot in the restaurant, she found her blood warming.  Not in embarrassment, no.  She warmed in very heated curiousity.

His hand pulled her close, let her hands press against his breeches... and she found her breath hissing over her lips in admiration.  That... would take some work.  Fortunately for her, she liked a bite of pain in her sex... because she doubted that the pain would be avoidable.  A good thing for her, but probably not for others.

Her eyes slowly tilted up, locking on his own as she took another step closer.. almost plastering herself against him.  Her fingers curled, lightly scratching against the breeches that separated her from the spear he seemed so ready to use.

The feeling of it stirring to life had her lips slowly curving into a smile he'd caught only hints of previously.  As if she was hungry, and he was the meal.  Never mind that he was a Warlord Prince who soundly outranked her in Depth.  Never mind he could snap her neck easily, if he'd a mind to do so.

The awkward stumbling of before melted away.  This was something she enjoyed, and could certainly handle with no awkwardness at all.  "The thing that I thought of most, Prince... was of this."  She gave him a light squeeze before freeing her hands to start plucking at the line of his trousers.

"But you'd have to rid yourself of this pesky material for me to indulge that particular desire.  I find I'm rather.. thirsty.  I want to drink you down."  She licked at her lips, the thought of trying to swallow that monster in his pants making her throat and jaw already start to ache in preparation.

She wanted to see it.  To touch it, caress it, lick it.  She wanted to own him for just a few blessed moments, and feel the way that he could split her in pleasure.

"And after a taste?  I'd like to feel you drive into me, Prince Nassor...  It's been a little while since I've come screaming." 

It had been since the last time she'd had Rais visit, actually.. andthat had been a few months ago.  The sex after him had been... too tame for her tastes.

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #9 on: Nov 07, 17, 06:35:34 PM »
Her demeanor changed, immediately, and he was not unaware of the effect that had clearly overtaken her. While his eyes still shone more with curiosity than desire, hers burned with an appetite that he had now awaken in her. A hunger, a thirst, that she gladly spoke. Her dream, of him, of what he could do, was rather simple, and he gave her a nod of acknowledgment. She was not revolutionary, nor surprising, in her confessions, but he did not need those things. All he needed was to give her what she had asked for from him.

The sounds she made, the anticipation writ plainly upon her features, charmed the giant of a man who looked down at the little doll who presented herself hungrily before him. To kiss him would require he bow to her; she was dwarfed by the dangerous benefactor who urged her bloodlust and now stoked her basest lusts. As she touched, he continued to harden, admiring the young thing who all but salivated for her admitted desires.

Her hands freed his, at last; but not out of fear, as he had expected her to do long before. Perhaps fear touched her, but desire washed it away, and her fingers moved to unravel the bonds that held his pants at his hips. She told him clear what she wanted, and the desert-dweller complained of the nation's most common ailment: a thirst. Her appetite, though, saw in it another drink entire in her mind's eye. The Warlord Prince made no attempt to stop her efforts to unbind him, and would reach his hand down to push at the edge of his fabric down, no attempt made to vanish his clothing. No, he wanted to see her work for this.

His hands moved to his vest while hers attended there, unbuttoning the leather which covered him, so that his bare form might be revealed, stomach taut but bearing its slightest flutter in the anticipation of what just might follow granting the assassin access to what she so pronouncedly desired. "You beg me for your pleasures," he stated, voice brooking no argument. Shrugging free of his leather, the vest-coat dropped off of him, pooling to the warehouse floor while his hands lowered, once more sliding across her woven scalp with one hand and the other moving to help free his shaft from the loosened fabric. His massive hand barely closed about its girth as he stroked, slowly, the weight of his cock ensuring even as it grew firm that it could not bear itself under the burden of its heavy heft. It would be beyond a burden, beyond a challenge, for her to know it, but he looked unworried as his hand brushing her hair urged her to her knees, and his hand roughly moved the beast he revealed to slide across her cheek in offering.

"One dream at a time. Choke, little viper, show me the fighter you are." A soft laugh rolled free him, rich and powerful as it boomed out his broad chest, always like rolling thunder as it shook out of him. He was amused; and he was thick with need. He saw this as game, perhaps; but it was a game he demanded to play, regardless of the sounds of the street beyond, the nearness of his guards, the rudeness of this warehouse’s readiness for such a carnal scene, or much else beyond her consent. And even that had yet to be tested, but the grip in her hair and the strength of his arms pushing her to obey warned of the danger and strength of this titan before her.



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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #10 on: Nov 08, 17, 08:56:50 AM »
Her eyes widened, just a bit, as he revealed that monster she'd felt behind his breeches.  She'd underestimated him.  Not a terrible thing to do, but she had been right.  This was going to be difficult.

However, it was not going to be impossible.

Her tongue swept across her lips as that rough hand of his encouraged her to settle upon her knees.  She obeyed.  His hand remained in place, and that too was welcome.  As strong and unbending as she was in many things - in the bedroom she was always open to an interchange of power.

It didn't matter that this had not been a planned occurrence on her part.  It did not matter, in this moment, that he had emptied a warehouse of the people that rightly belonged here.  In a way, that actually made her hunger worse.  She craved the feel of a body pressing against her own.  She liked the idea that he was interested enough to take her even here, where others must be driven off first.  The feral nature of it had things low in her body tightening.

She did not fear him - not in this moment.  She did not fear the weight of shaft against her cheek, or her lips.  She relished, instead, the opportunity to slake her need against someone whose flesh might truly sate the hunger in her skin.

Choke, little viper, show me the fighter you are.

Prudence and wisdom suggested she warm up.  But that didn't seem to be what he wanted - and so it was not what she did.  She widened her mouth, her tongue stretching out to curl under the heavy weight of his bulbous tip.  She pushed forward, her lips parting to allow him entrance. 

He tasted of salt and something thicker... and she enjoyed it.  But that enjoyment was surpassed by the heat that flared through her as she felt him strike the back of her throat.  Her jaw ached fiercely, and her her throat was working at trying to swallow him.

Impossible, but she enjoyed the sensations none the less.  Her eyes rolled up, as if she meant to watch his face while she sealed her lips around his spear, hollowing her cheeks as she drew upon him as if she could take that drink she so obviously wanted.  Her head began to pull away, slowly. 

She was enjoying this pain.  This ache, this burn.. it had her thighs restlessly moving together as she ceased in her pulling away and drove herself further along him.  Faster.  The thrust of his head against her throat again brought a small sound, as if she was swallowing back the urge to gag.  And it allowed him just a little deeper.

Sweet Night... it felt good.  Good enough that her hands settled at his thighs, as if bracing herself - and she was.  Because she began to drive him faster, and harder, between her lips.  The ache was a fire, and it encouraged her to keep going.  Her flesh was tightening, as if she might be able to achieve some sense of relief simply through the act.

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #11 on: Nov 13, 17, 01:05:24 AM »
The former slaver looked down on this great murderous liberator patiently, with a great deal of amusement curling his lips while savoring the expression that covered her features and warmed his heart as she reeled initially at the sight of that which she had dared to challenge. His hand was certain as it found easily grasp at the braids, their texture allowing him a firm traction for his touch. They resisted a secure hold, but provided a perfect grip for one less desperate to absolutely command their lover's touch. And for now, he did not need to force her action. Not so long as she was obeying, at least, which she seemed all too willing to do, once he pushed her down urgently to those knees. The tongue lashing her lips told him clearly that, worried as she might have been for a moment, she was anxious to sate her stated appetite.

This warehouse had been emptied for only one purpose: he had decided clearly he was going to do something unseemly and impolite. Concern had seemed to mount in her that it might be something she had done to upset; but it suddenly had become clear that while unsavory to many, what he wanted was enough to drive her mouth to water and her thighs to tighten. The titan above her looked patient, the look of confident dominance held only by a man who once knew no title more common than that of Master. He urged her on, with word now instead of mere firm grip, and she did not further hesitate even though she may have wanted a little preparation before she fiercely devoured him. But she threw aside all caution and worry, and lunged forward to attempt the beast that he presented her. Those full lips parted wonderfully, her taut cheeks expanding as evidence of her work, and he sighed his pleasure as the wet heat of her questing mouth was granted him. "That is good," he assured her, for even the simple promise of her first slaking of his need and her appetite. That skilled tongue worked to drag and encourage him deeper, and she was given deeper quickly.

That grip he held easily in her braids allowed him to urge forward, his lust not a calm or patient one, and he grunted in satisfaction and frustration entwined as he found himself so well pushed to the depth of her throat. There was more than she could bear, not without doing what he had asked: choking. He was not a meager offering, and she rallied herself for what she knew her lover demanded of her. Those cheeks tightened further, showing clearly the delight of her appetite and his impressions within that expanse as he ground his hips forward to encourage on the wild thing who so sought to give him all he could desire. His lip parted for a sigh of pleasure, his eyes closing for a bare moment before they snapped back open with doubt and question burning in those eyes beginning their shine of lust. She was pulling free of him, and he visibly objected, but said nothing, not yet.

And she rewarded him that momentary patience as she drove forward, giving him that delightful shock in the air he wanted, hearing her push past ease and comfort as she drove herself down, and forced him down her throat. Her nose did not brush his stomach as he yet wished, and he groaned delightfully at the ravenous efforts of the Witch at his feet. Almost paternally, he stroked his hand across her hair, sweetly, affectionately, as she settled herself and steeled for yet more. And then she pushed forward again, and he all but sneered with the force of his pleasure.

Her hands abandoned all but a steady grasp, finding his broad thighs like the body of a mighty oak, something all too solid to grasp at. Hands behind his legs for leverage, she used his strength and immovable power to all but suffocate herself in the effort to serve the man she killed for. "That is good," he urged again, grunting his assessment as his hips shifted, rocking forward in the first motion of his own to try to encourage more. She was clearly having an affect on the dangerous Warlord Prince before her, stirring the ferocity in him in a situation where most would fear his viciousness. He suspected she was not most.

"All," he commanded, uncaring if she even could manage it, wanting to see her strain, struggle and choke upon him. Even that thought inspired him, his mighty cock shivering at the simple idea of her suffocating upon him. The massive grasp of his hand ensured that she would not have an easy time should she wish to escape this torment, just as his hips rolling forward to force more within her and down her aching throat proved that she danced a dangerous dance with this former terror that all but haunted the territory once.

Worse, the Warlord Prince extended his senses, sharply aware of her growing desire; but she did not voice them, she did not beg for the pleasure he assured her only he would be permitted to authorize. Without those prayers, she apparently was doomed to merely steep higher in her need while he focused entirely instead on the delightful sensations she inspired inside of his heart and between those powerful thighs. Powerful thighs that drove strong hips, the very same that began to rock forward and feed her his fat shaft, uncaring for whether she was entirely ready to have more driven down her increasingly abused throat. And all he gave as thanks was his rolling, rumbling moans, deep as thunder and to some, likely twice as threatening.

But she was a brave girl, and he would punish her that dark appetite and that wild eyed bravery, with this fearsome offering that he seemed so very committed to seeing her endure all of its trial. In her lips, filling her mouth, pounding down her throat, she felt him shudder with his growing need. His eyes shone with the very same, lightning seeming to all but crackle in those orbs as he took in every moment of this obscenity, memorizing the sight of Tairi devouring him with such abandon and growing need on both sides.



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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #12 on: Nov 16, 17, 09:32:57 AM »
All.  He demanded more of her, and he was enjoying her work.  That was enough to push her past discomfort, to convince her body that relief and satiation would be found when she completed her task.  Her jaw felt as if was going to come unhinged, but she ignored it. 

Her lips tingled with the effort of sliding him between them, and still she drove ever forward.  She found her rhythm, found the pulse of the dance she was enacting and brought herself fresh air as she would retreat, only to drive forward again.  Each time managing to work him farther and farther down her abused throat.

It was a war, a battle she was more than happy to wage, surpassed in its exhilaration only by the sheer burst of pleasure through her body as she finally sealed her lips against his base.  Her throat locked, milking him as she fought to remain in place... to enjoy this first time of accomplishing what rational thought told her was impossible.

She pulled back just enough to gain another breath, to release the flickering darkness at the edge of her vision before driving down against him again.  Her lips sealed, cheeks hollowed and throat worked at him again just before she ever so lightly set teeth to his flesh, carefully teasing his sensitive shaft as she pulled back.

Her eyes fluttered, looking up at him with satisfaction.

"All."  A whispered promise, before she drove back down upon him.  She wanted to feel him pulse down her throat.  She wanted to feel the weight of his pleasures drown her in sensation.  And after?  After she would try to rouse him again.  Or perhaps she would make him return the favor.  The thought had her throat tightening around his shaft as she worked her way back down, a rumbling growl echoing along the sensitive flesh in her throat as she slowly dragged her nails down his thighs, bringing them to her own breasts to squeeze and seek a small bit of relief from the pressure this act had built beneath her own skin.

A thought had her tunic vanishing away, baring her skin to his gaze.  It was as much for her own relief as for his pleasure... if she were honest, perhaps a bit more for herself than for him.  But the sensation of her hands and nails on her own skin had her moaning around him, even as she fought for enough air to continue.

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #13 on: Nov 19, 17, 06:01:39 PM »
The wicked and needful little thing at his feet worked herself desperately onward, guided well by his strong and encouraging hand. She was rewarded with his wicked laugh tumbling free his lips, tinged and interrupted by a cacophony of his own moans of wanton pleasure. Her teeth dragged over his flesh and he hissed in his revelry, fingers tensing in those braids and urging her down further, as if he enjoyed the scrape of her against the breadth of his burgeoning cock. Even had she note bore down, he would have felt the drag, and he seemed to encourage it further from her skilled lips. She was not unknowing of how to touch a man, though she seemed initially a little stunned with how to manage the gift given to her, and he showed no hesitation in loudly making it clear just how much he enjoyed her hungered conquering of the beast that she gladly buried down her abused throat. Her nose pressed to his hips, and every time she managed that feat, he ground himself forward and kept her pinned, very gently fucking her all the way down this slick, warm hole she offered him, keening his enjoyment in loud and deeply body-shaking groans.

He refused her air as much as he could bear; waiting until she pulled her hands from her body to his legs, not for support but to try to urge herself free of him. Her eyes suffused with tears, her throat spasming as if it was trying to suck air from his shaft, and only then did he pull himself free to allow her to gasp and gulp. Again, then, he would urge her forward, moaning wickedly as she took him again. This rotation of excess and denial, of choking her upon him and pumping himself against her, became a sinful rhythm that made his cock tremble with need every time she spasmed around him in want. But it always slowly built, until he saw her playing with those pert breasts, reveling in the sight of her needful display. She was giving herself a tease, but not relieving her need, not without permission, and he admired this, even as he fucked her pretty face. "Good," he would urge again, and again, his offerings simple amidst his moans and cries while wanting to seemingly leave her panting and mindless with how little air he would feed her, compared to all else he gladly had her devour.

Long minutes were spent on that dirty, sun-warmed concrete floor as she made him sweat with his need. She would be rewarded all that she worked so hard for, when the rumble of his desire tumbling free his proud chest turned even deeper. His hand loosened from her braids for a moment as he cried his need, before he dug into that hair and pulled her back as she felt it thicken even further. That long, thick shaft was finally pulled completely out of that mouth made sore around him, just as she began to feel it trembling with ulsing need; it had grown fat with the swelling need to feel its release, and he proved the same when his hands dropped from her, to his shaft. He would aim himself low, and begin to work himself off in his strong hand. Guiding it towards her, he shuddered and cried out, his seed splashing across those freed and offered breasts, with one hard pump of his strong fist that itself even could not comfortably close about him. He guided his cock back to her mouth, urging it between her lips, even as he seeped freely to stain her cheek on the way to feeding her the rest of him. Without words, only his moans and actions, did he work to let her feast upon all that remained of him after he painted her dark flesh with his cum.

"Good,"
he grunted again, pleasure trembling still through him, leaving even his legs to shiver as she was given her every reward she worked so hard to receive, his eyes still alight with a hunger that exceeded the limitation of his softening cock.



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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #14 on: Nov 21, 17, 09:13:16 AM »
Sweet merciful darkness... the feeling of him trembling, the thickening of his flesh before he pulled away.. that had been awe inspiring.  When he pulled away, however, she felt a flash of temper.  She had worked hard to feel him spill down her throat, and he dared to pull away?

Her eyes flashed with temper, though she didn't lash out at him.  No.  When she saw what he was doing, that he was not taking away her reward... she felt that bite of anger start to smooth away.  When she finally got her taste of him, her tongue swiping at her lip and throat swallowing down the remains of what he offered, she felt it disappear.

She'd been right.  He tasted wonderful.  It was worth the pain in her throat, the throbbing ache of bruised tissue.  It was worth the uncomfortable need between her thighs, even while her fingers slid through the thick fluid he'd painted her breasts with to bring that taste to her lips as she rolled her eyes up to watch him.

Dark with need, and lust, and hunger were her eyes.  Her tongue curled around one of her digits, seeking out and claiming each drop that she had scooped from her flesh.  She could taste the bead of salt from her sweat, and the musk of his release.  It was a pleasant mix.  Pleasant enough that she moved forward, that same hand wrapping around his thigh so that she could lean forward and run the tip of his cock against her tongue.

Taking one more taste, as it were. 

A pleased smile touched her lips as she settled back on her heels, quirking a finger at him.  A clear invitation.  Her legs were too shaky, at the moment, for her to rise to her feet.  And it seemed, as she studied him, that even his legs were feeling a bit weakened.  A high compliment, that.

She'd have to say the same.  She'd never felt her throat so sore, or her jaw so tired.  It had been worth the effort.  She stretched back, allowing those long limbs to stretch out against the floor.  A floor which was far cooler than her flesh, at the moment.  She felt wanton, burning with the need for touch, for relief.  The paint of his cum against her breasts was like a cool breeze now, and still she was not sated.  Her eyes rolled towards the ceiling, a dark and soft laugh echoing from her lips.

"I burn, Prince..."  She held her hand out towards him, those dark eyes falling back towards his face as her head turned.  "Please... "  She needed, and he had started it. Oh sure, she needed fairly often.  But not like this.  She rarely got so worked up over so simple a thing as the tasting of a man's cock, but then she'd never had to work so hard for something from so dangerous a man.

The thrill of it, the fact that her vision had nearly drowned in darkness so many times, had sent her soaring to new heights.  It felt as if she'd burst apart at the seams with a simple drag of fingers.  But she didn't want to be the one to bring herself relief.  She could feel her body weeping for it, needing it.. and she wanted him to do it.

She wanted him to feel what he had done to her.  To bring her another reward, to claim her even if just for one afternoon.  Sate the curiousity, and the hunger, and the fear-laced lust.  She burned for it.

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #15 on: Nov 26, 17, 02:51:03 AM »
Reaching down to his mere birthright, his hand waved in her simple direction, and she was thrust back against that concrete. Her arms slapped above her head, her ankles pinned to the warmed slab that may as well have been ice compared to the boiling heat of her needful little form. Standing above her, looking down upon the wild, thrashing thing beneath him that pleaded with her desire, pleaded with him to satisfy it, he was all smiles in regards to the creature at his feet.

He gifted her the chance to fight her chains, by merely using the Rose. But her new Master knew well that she was limited to the very same Jewel as her offer; and he would let her fight against the Rose, let her fight and let her loose. The Rattlesnake granted his little, murderous, freedom fighting lover the chance to expend all her energies fighting at each separate instance of her imprisonment; he wanted to see her burn out, to become even less able to defend against him as he toyed with her at her very limits.

With her all but strapped to the floor, waiting to see if she accepted her chains or if she'd shift free of them before he'd only reassert another bond to make all her efforts redundant again and again, happy enough for her to fight so fruitlessly, for what it meant for his efforts later. For what it meant when she could not fight him if she had wanted to try, even at his own most meager level of contestation.

Her hands were denied the teasing drags they wished to give, to entice her only further. She was no longer able to sample his seed or lick it clean, no matter how magically more arousing that was. No, there was something even more enticing about her imprisonment. She wore chains of his will alone, and seemed to grow wet for it, or perhaps she was merely wet already, but he could smell her desire upon her and he all but basked in its presence. Kneeling before her, his own thick digits, as broad as some men, brushed against those swollen, needful folds, enjoying how slick the run of her desire had left her.

"You do not cum until you feel my cock inside you,"
he ordered, plainly, before he forced a finger inside her; a moment later, another joined, broad and strong as it pushed deep, forcing her walls wide as he began to thrust them through, to prepare her even remotely for the feel of him inside her, and him to the sounds of his new lover's sighs and moans.

And in a moment more, tastes, as he leaned forward between her forcibly spread thighs to lash his tongue against her clit, before moving close enough to breathe and then bring it within his lips, while his fingers drove powerfully through her, opening her to him and ruthless in the force he offered; she might very well enjoy this, but she was given explicit orders, and he smiled to himself, beared mouth between her parted legs, enjoying working to test the limits of her obedience to the rules of these games. After-all, there was little more Prince Nassor enjoyed than obedience and dedication.

She had shown both, so far, and he would reward her with sin, so long as she obeyed him further. His cock twitched anew, life restored without magic's kiss, just at the scent of her, the taste of her, as his lips worked at suckling in at her needful button, tongue lashing with an ear for her own cries, to guide his pace, to direct his force.  And she would never lack for force, not with the gracious and generous Warlord Prince before her.



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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #16 on: Dec 13, 17, 04:54:55 PM »
Commands.  Compliance.  Not the easy compliance of someone used to taking orders, but the compliance of someone who was allowing orders to be given.  It was there in her face, in the dark flush of her cheeks and the parted lips breathing in excitement.  She complied because she wanted to get what the compliance would bring... not because she was afraid of the hulking male giving the orders.

She should be, by all rights.  But desire had a way of burning away fears or trepidation.  Existing in that moment, that singular moment where the world narrowed down to the current breath and the almost painful tension of waiting for a touch... it was exhilarating.

He pressed thick fingers inside of her, and her spine arched a little, her hands and arms flexing as if she might be able to budge those 'ropes' of Craft keeping her in place.  She couldn't help it.  She was so willing, so ready, that she felt as if just his fingers were enough to bring her over.

But they didn't.  Not yet.  She could handle a little slap and tickle without losing herself.  She kept telling herself that, a silent mantra in her skull as she rolled her eyes down the angles of her body to watch him as he teased at her sex.

But then he didn't just use his hands.  When his lips and tongue lashed against the apex between her thighs, she let out a rattling moan that seemed to empty her lungs.  Her hips angled, moving to meet each undulation of that sinful tongue as best they could under the weight of his face, his hand, his Craft.

She felt as if her heart was going to pound itself free of her rib cage with each new sensation that he pushed through her.  After a few minutes, she had to close her eyes to focus on not leaping over that proverbial cliff's edge.  To not just seize the pleasure shimmering there in her mind's eye.  She burned for it, needed that release more and more with every thump of her heart.

And still he continued to tease her.  "FUCK!"  She stretched her neck, grinding her teeth with the effort to not lose control. She was going to manage it.  She was going to obey that damned command of his just to prove to herself she could.  But if he didn't change the pace on those thrusting fingers, it would soon be out of her hands.  She could feel the tightening in her abdoment, the way her legs were fighting to clench and keep his face right where it was.

Her fucking thighs were trembling.  "Please..."  Tairi Kesket did not beg.  Not typically.  She was going to make an exception.  Especially as he sucked at her clit, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the rush.  "Fuck... please..."

Offline Saif Nassor

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #17 on: Dec 29, 17, 06:49:07 PM »
The man above her did not show that he was taking careful consideration of her will; he desired her, or at least desired this dark and needful moment, and he sought only to satisfy himself upon her, whether by sheer pleasure of touch or by the satisfaction of seeing her maddened. She was writhing before him as his fingers drove within her, and he smiled wolfishly at her as she thrashed against the bonds that contained her. They were within her limits to overcome; but each would see her weakened. Instead, she surrendered to them, and that, too, made him desire further.

A hand slid from her thighs, the other remaining in its place to aid him in claiming her by kiss, by tongue's lash, and by forceful demand of his scarcely offered words. That hand guided itself to his own growing arousal, and he grasped himself, clutching about the burgeoning need, before rolling his hand slowly back and forth to urge himself harder. He grew inside his fist while he beat his desire into ravenous heights, while his tongue demanded the same from her own body. She pleased him by her lips, her tongue, and he sought to return its favor... but he would not feel her pleasure clenching before him with his lips against her. No, he would feel her shake and shudder around the beast that he hoped would break her.

She cursed, and she swore, and he knew she boiled. Her body denied her everything; the man knew the limits of a body well, and felt her trembling approaches and eased back just before them. Her cries were thrilling, but he was not done; he continued the torment far longer than the onset of her first pleas, nursing her towards madness, before he felt his own breath begin to shake from the pleasure felt in his own fist. He knew that he would get no harder; that he was as steel, now, and readied to unleash himself within her slick folds.

Regardless of whether she still pleaded, or her anger, perhaps even regardless if she protested against what he offered to give her, his lips broke from her and his tongue lashed over his mouth to taste all that might remain of her. Rising to his knees, she would be able to witness what he held for her in his hand, spilling out of his broad hand that which he promised her, its might entirely unmanaged by his grasp. Easing up against her, he pressed himself upon those weeping folds, and looked down upon her.

"It is time,"
he stated simply, before, guiding it with his hand, he helped force the broad crown within her, grunting at the effort of spreading her over that spearhead. It would only be a moment's reprieve, a simple grunt of satisfaction of entering her, before he took more; she would be given no reprieve. He wished his satisfaction claimed from her, and thrust forward, her slippery cunt permitting reluctantly the expanse of his shaft as he urged himself inside her. Hands slipped free of himself, and of her, moving to drop to grasp her imprisoned hands, threading through her fingers as he leaned over her. His hair hung down in thick strands of braidwork down either side of him, but he kept himself reared up proudly, ensuring none of it dragged against her. Fierce, blazing eyes peered into her own as his hips thrust forward, slowly but too steadily, unrelenting as he made her take in all of him she could, pushing himself until he felt her final resistance against what her body would accept of his beast. He gave no concern of discomfort or frustration or her wish to break free these bonds; all he needed in this moment was to have her, and to fill her, and nothing now would stop him from taking all of her he could.



Offline Tairi Kesket

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #18 on: Dec 29, 17, 07:41:27 PM »
He tormented, tortured, and teased.  Still, his command echoed in her skull.  "You do not cum until you feel my cock inside you." It was savage, and barbaric... and perfect.  True enough, she felt as if she was going mad with the need for release... and true enough she felt as if she might die if he didn't let her fall over that edge soon - but it was still perfect.

Every nerve wept as he pulled away from her, and her breath stilled as she felt her wide and glazed eyes lock on his hips as he showed her what she was waiting for.  She could still taste that monstrosity on her tongue, her lips.  She could almost feel it already, and it hadn't even started to touch her yet.

Not that he made her wait too long.  The feeling of that broad crown shoving its way into her had her tightening in reflex, and her spine arched at the sensations that rocked through her as her body fought the invasion.  That was the proper word - it was most certainly an invasion.  One she welcomed, even as it made her entire body weep with the effort and strain.

He was not slow to introducing his impressive spear into her folds, and she appreciated it even as the sounds that wrung from her throat were half pain and half pleasure.  As more and more of him stroked into her, that pain disappeared, her body tightening down upon him as she found her first release at the overwhelming sensation of finally falling over the edge.

It didn't matter, of course.  The extra fluid of her pleasures just helped him glide more easily into a cavern that had never felt something so large.  His hands slipped into her own, pressing her more firmly into solid ground as he began to take more and more of what she had to offer.  Something she offered freely, despite the bonds of Craft and the weight of his body above hers.

She could see only his eyes, those blazing orbs locked onto hers as if he could see into her very soul.  A wild beast of a male, and the feral soul within her own body responded.  His craft didn't allow her nearly enough room to do all the things she wished.. physically.

But as he drove into her, she let wisps of Craft tease up along his flesh, like nails running over his skin.  She could not lift her legs to grasp him, or pull him tighter into her... but she could easily make him feel as if she had. 

More.  That dangerous whisper in her skull drove her to angle her hips, to take him harder, deeper.  She needed, had passed the faint grip of inhibition she held.  In the place of the barely controlled killer beneath him there was only Tairi, with all her feral need and want for passion writhing against him. 

He could ask for almost anything, in this moment, and she would likely give it to him without much thought.  She KNEW that, and she was to the point that she didn't really care.  All that mattered was that he drive into her.  That he spin her along that ephemeral web of pleasure and release again... and again.

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #19 on: Dec 31, 17, 10:34:51 PM »
Seated as deep inside of her as her cunt would take, he sneered in his pleasure while her body strained to tighten around the thick beast within her so deeply and almost failing. The Rattlesnake reveled in the feel of her body trembling around his shaft, as he slid it back then forced it deep again. He was tentative for a few strokes, testing her body, and just the abuse he could visit. But he did not seem to care much for what he had learned, as too quickly, his brutality erupted. Craft fell away, and her legs were suddenly freed to their tasks, but his hands yet pinned her own into the floor of this warehouse that had emptied solely for their pleasure.

The man all but roared as he began to finally do what he had yearned to do for so long now: fuck her. Violently, he began to buck his hips, working himself into her before slipping back. The ground dragged against her arching body, and beat against her as he slammed himself forward, pushing the thick crown of his cock against her barriers as if he might just push himself through and into her womb were he desperate enough. Inches of him remained free, and the intensity of his hips ensured she felt every single bit of him that she could bear, as he pushed past all sensible limits she might know.

Had he noticed her Craft, he did not respond in a way she might be able to clearly tell. Perhaps there was a slight shiver, but it was hard to sense amidst the rumbling growl, that sounded like the roll of thunder from his deep voice, as he lorded above her and selfishly pursued his own pleasure, unmindful of what joy she now found or felt beneath him. Brutally, he sought to slake himself upon her, as he furiously fucked her, his pace only hastening as he gained confidence and callous disregard in equal measure during the assault he released upon her. He asked her nothing else; he demanded of her no further pleasures or torments, only that, perhaps, she survive his appetite. The Warlord Prince did not, however, ask of her that endurance; nor, from the fury showing on his face, did he even consider her tolerance for this assault.

Teeth were bared as his lips peeled back sharply, grunting without word, as his eyes bore into hers with a blazing furiosity. There was no love in his gaze; there was barely the sense of even awareness of her existence. Only pleasure shone in the haze of this moment, his eyes reflecting the need he felt for the same thing her own mind willed. More. The snarling male above her angrily forced himself through her, enthralled in the moment as he chased his orgasm, mindless for anything but the clench of her pussy around his proud cock, which earned a rise in the snarls he freed from himself with every flutter of her tightening walls.

Meanwhile, the eyes of those who had accompanied him, who had surrounded her, took to the sight with admiration and interest. A few's hands meandered, even, as they admired the lurid sight the man they swore to protect revealed to them as he unleashed his mindless hunger upon the woman who killed those he once made prosper. He took from her body the pleasures he needed, while eyes followed every moment as his glistening form dominated hers, his broad muscles tightening with every drive of his hips, and the retreat which always made his breath shake in pleasure as her body that fought against his intrusion fought against his departure so much harder.

Hunger made him a thief, and he sought to rob from her all the pleasure he could find.



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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #20 on: Jan 01, 18, 03:16:30 PM »
He was larger.  Rougher.  Just... more.  More than she'd ever had to deal with - and in its way that could be frightening.  Fortunately for her, she wasn't capable of being frightened at hte moment.  Her body opened to him, wept for him, as she not only endured but encouraged what he did to her.  Her legs wrapped tight around him, clinging and allowing her to undulate her hips to give him better access.  Deeper access.

There was only his eyes, and his body, in that stretch of time.  he bared his teeth at her, and she smiled back.  He drove his body into hers, and she welcomed him with all she had.  She didn't care about the eyes watching, or the way that some of the guards touched themselves as they enjoyed hte sights. The sounds.  The scents.  She didn't care.

Let them watch. Let them enjoy it even.  The world had narrowed only to the hunger that spun between two feral souls, and the way they relentlessly sought their relief in the other.  She came screaming beneath him, and he pumped furiously into her in search of that ever desirable ecstasy.

And when he found it? When he found it she tightened around him again, a rough and raspy moan rattling between them as she felt every nerve light up again and again as her body was rewarded for its endurance.  She was rubbed raw at her shoulders, her tailbone.  She didn't care.  She knew she would need some care, most likely... and still she didn't regret catching his attentions.

She simply turned her head, nuzzling her cheek against his wrist as he was still holding her to the floor.  Grounding herself back into her body, into reality, as she slowly fell from the clouds of ecstasy.  He had been too much.  And he had been perfection for her in that moment of need.

Her eyes rolled, sliding from that damp chest to his jaw, his eyes once more.  Still, they were so fiery. So .. demanding.  It had her skin shivering, her lips turning up in a smile.  Could this beast ever be sated?  Her tongue swept along lips that had been too long parted in keening cries of delight, and she found herself wondering what more he wanted of her this day.

If anything.  Did he have more names for her to consider?  Or had he, in truth, only sought her to slake both of their needs against the backdrop of this warehouse?  "I would offer you lunch, Prince.. but I think it may take me time to walk."

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Re: A Soul From Out The Shadow
« Reply #21 on: Jan 17, 18, 10:39:10 PM »
The man above her was unhesitating, in his assault on the slight thing pinned below him to the rough stone floor of this warehouse. Her body was mercilessly pressed upon it, as his hips crashed with rhythm and force. He thought nothing of her own pleasure as his approached, relishing the feel of his cock as her slick, impossibly snug little cunt resisted his every entrance and subsequent retreat. The press of her walls left him growling his delight as he used her, more leonine than serpent as he made it clear with every taut muscle of the trunks he called arms helped pull him up inside of her, pushing them along the rough ground and forcing him to alternate pulling her back and chasing her as he drove her into the stone.

She let him desecrate her on this floor, complicating the depth of this relationship that had been forged in blood and sealed now in something so much more sordid.

He fucked her like a beast, reveling as he felt her from the inside, his existence driven by nothing but the primal fire of his desire slaked upon her body. His knees burned from the stone he held up his own weight, and sent his hips ever forward, the violence in his need refusing any attempt her body might feebly attempt to resist his pleasure. Moaning loudly, more a roar than a man's cry, the man who she likely would have once dreamed of killing slaked his utmost bliss upon her form as he snarled wordlessly his absolute release. His head threw back, his hair a nest of serpents as it thrashed through the air, snapping free his neck and sending his sweat like spat venom to the world behind them as his shaft engorged yet thicker, spreading her cunt as his seed pulsed through and released in a torrent of his lust.

His head bowed again, his hands scraping at the floor as he released her in all ways, now his mere weight and force left for her to contend with as his hips worked hard to seek every iota of his pleasure stolen from her sacrificed depths. The Merchant flooded her, his cock seeping its every drop far within her depths, as he sought to bury every inch her body could bear of him while he emptied himself.

Around them, one of his guards finished, moaning himself as he stained the floor. All of them, whether indecent or not, readied themselves, a process which was more involved for some than others.

Grunting, Prince Nassor slowed, then stopped, as the last iota of his pleasure was wrung from the monster that so split her. Pulling what of him she even could bear, he sat back, cock sliding free. His hands slid up his neck, then into his hair, pushing it all back and whicking away some of the copious sweat he had earned as his heat overwhelmed him. She spoke, as he collected his thoughts, and he groaned before looking down upon the soiled woman he had taken his pleasure from.

His mind brought back to this moment, he nodded to her then. "You rest, long as you need. You tell the men when they can return to their work. But I am far too delayed, and must go."

Standing, he reached out for the fabrics he had let go astray, and found his pants, moving to pull them back up his hips, tucking himself away carefully as he cinched it up around his waist, glancing over to her. Reaching into a pouch tied to his belt, he pulled free a small bag, and tossed it towards the floor beside her, nodding. "This is -- not for this. I wished to reward you for your work, the ... other thing. It is only that my satisfactions spurred me to new ones." He grinned, then, and reached for his coat, pulling it up over his shoulders and closing it at its vest, before he moved to leave the warehouse.

He stopped, while his guards moved to flank for his exit, just past the other side as he entered the market. It seemed one of the men he had wished forth waited, and he communicated quietly to the man, before he continued into the daylight. The foreman was left to wait, awkwardly, for the sounds of the woman inside to be finished with her rest from the sun’s brutality which she had merely traded for another.