Tread Lightly [closed] - Printable Version

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Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 05-19-2015


<sub>[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]What Demagol said concerning the deceased wasn't taken lightly. If anything, it made all those back burner thoughts more pressing; heavy on her conscious. To lose all those people, what had that done to the Mandalorian? How does one change in the face of such immeasurable loss? Rhailo had no means to compare her own woes with his, and it stung realizing this, as it meant what she didn't like admitting. Her problems paled in comparison to those of other races, of other worlds. Her freedom was attainable even in that ship, despite whatever measures her companion could take to isolate her, and they both knew it. There was no cell in this galaxy capable of keeping a desperate Auroun from making a run for it-- So, problems suddenly became ignorant complaints. Milky orbs continued to flash shapes towards the ceiling, though what whimsy and mirth had been shared in them was extinguished in favor of dark, amorphous blobs.

This wasn't the best time to mention Braxiskroi.

Without realizing it, her features wore a worried expression. Had she been more presently concerned, such a thing would be shifted to that harsh neutral visage she had found useful in the company of sorrow, but perhaps Demagol needed to see her care. To show it wasn't a crime, and it wasn't pity behind her gaze. No, it was more akin to longing. Somehow, she would ease his troubled mind without ever setting out to do so. It was just the way of things. Either she would make him better, or she would make her worse, in which case she would very quickly become scarce. A bad memory. Another runaway. Rhailo had been running so long, this didn't even seem problematic to their overall hopes. Knowing when things were over was part of her cooperative nature, and kicking the dead horse in hopes of reviving it was beneath her. Tears would be shed if reason arose.

Until then, maybe they would pretend to like one another. His tone, that low pitch peppered with absolutes, made her uneasy.

"Right." Rhailo murmured softly, dreaminess dashed in wake of the topic. Now she sounded empty. Drained. "Silly of me to ask."


<<Rhailosioabhan!>> The voice connected to her cerebral channel barked angrily, <<GET MOVING!>>

And she moved. Ran, actually. A sprint, a dash, a darting stride that led her through the winding stalactite treeline that dipped with small hills and downed crystal shards. Everywhere, energy signatures forced from the misty ether, creating bodies that immediately played chase after the woman. Countless figures, assembled to look like familiar members of the council, made for the woman where she was headed. Rhailo could remember screaming when hands made near grabs at her appendages, at her hair, but she didn't stop running.

On the horizon, through the thick stalks of rock fixtures, was the checkpoint.

<<FASTER! FASTER!>>

And then, from behind, a tackling body brought her down. Hard. Right into the dirt so her front skidded rough along the earthy dusts until both of their figures came to an abrupt halt.

<<Another fail! Release Rhailosioabhan Taicho Destros from simulation.>>

Bloodied and battered, Rhailo was forgotten as the army of clones dissipated back to their perspective owners.

Strike one.


"I can do that."

"Only, you haven't yet, so maybe you can't." Rhailo's mother, C'aneleste, shrugged her shoulders. "Why do you care anyway? This is a man's field of work, and you are no man. You can't keep up with Braxiskroi. Why not look into the arts? Music? Divination? A skill to find a mate?" A chuckle followed, though it was obviously made at Rhailo's expense. "There are opportunities available to you if you will just set your standards slightly lower-"

"I CAN do it, and I'm tired of hearing I can't. Brax has scholars teaching him, so of course I can't learn at the same pace. Of fucking course I'm at a disadvantage, but like, do you really want to sell me off like some fucking pet?" Angrily Rhailo rose, her unfinished meal pushed away. "There is nothing wrong with me. I can do it."

"Have you no respect for our wishes?" C'aneleste chided with a huff. "Your father worked a lifetime to ensure you would be safe. This planet is our home, Rhailosioabhan. You have no reason to leave, and even if you could, where do you plan to go? You know the rules for traveling. You know just why we're here, and why this place cannot be found! Why are you so sure you wish to leave? This is all you know. Stories, myths about other planets-- For Gods and house, Rhailosioabhan, none of it is true! It's dangerous work!"

"But... But you think Braxiskroi can work off planet?" There was a pause between them as the tension grew. "You think he is capable, but I'm not."

"Because he is different."

"NO! HE ISN'T! He is my twin! We are the same! If I had his opportunities, I would show you!" Rhailo's hand shot out, and from the force of the shockwave, their dining room table crashed sideways; contents spilling across crystal inlaid flooring. "I fucking hate it here, Mesmurr, and I'm not going to stay where I'm treated like less!"

C'aneleste didn't speak. Not to stop Rhailo from tantruming, nor to keep her daughter from leaving the room. Long ago, hope had been given up on the fiery youth.

Strike two.


"I can get you off planet-"

"STOP! STOP! PLEASE!"

Two bodies lay on the floor, the darkness betrayed by their glowing skin. Both Rhailo's thighs were spread while her arms were secured above her head. A larger figure kept her pinned, and she cried. Gods, she cried more than she had ever cried before. Invasive lips shut her up when they weren't speaking lies. Even with one of her eyes swollen, the woman could make out grinning incisors between thin stretched lips. Mocking her. A society personified, laughing in her face while he fucked her.

"You're so fuckin' tight, I wish I had done this sooner... All that bullshit you promised me, all those hours I listened to you bitching about your fucking family. All worth it. All of it, you fucking slut-" His hips bucked hard enough to knock her against the flooring, the blood from her nose streaming; collecting in a pool to the side her face was turned. The hand at her throat didn't seem to want to release it's grasp, and air was struggled over. "Gasp for it. Better yet, beg me for it. Beg me to let you live, Rhailo."

"Arstasiz-" Rhailo choked out with a sob, her lids shutting so she needn't see this cruelty. "Please let me go.."

CRACK!

All at once, her attacker slumped into her bruised body, a dead weight crushing her chest-- But his hand relinquished with that lack of control, and Rhailo was free to steal desperate gulps of oxygen for the time being. A shadow fell over both of them, standing as a sihlouette so she couldn't quite make out who loomed above. In her state, addled from abuse, she could only assume one of the guards had caught the incident on the data feeds. But then the one above them spoke, and a wash of shame surrounded her already dismal circumstances.

"Rhailosioabhan." In that announcement, Braxiskroi made it clear who had come to her aid. "You were supposed to be at the range."

How cold he sounded before his arms lowered to throw Arstasiz's body from atop his sister. Rhailo was shaking, distraught, and somehow felt to blame. How cruel. "I was going..."

"I see." In another fluid motion, Rhailo was lifted from the tiles and inspected, both her twin's hands keeping her steady at the shoulders. Her clothing was ruined, her body a display of physical traumas she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge. Mentally, she was trying to push it away-- All of it needed to be forgotten as quickly as was possible. "Come. I will take you home. We will..." His brow furrowed while he glanced her over quickly, "Can you stand?"

Rhailo tried, and despite the screaming pain between her thighs, she managed to do it for him. "Yes."

Braxiskroi removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, and then tugged the tatters of her skirt back down to maintain some sense of modesty between them. With this done, her appearance wasn't entirely obvious in what had happened, which would earn less backlash towards their journey home. Even so, Rhailo felt the tears as they came, warm reminders; paired with pain of several kinds. Her brother let his hands fall to his sides, defeated. "I feel what you are feeling."

"I know." Rhailo said weakly, sniffling. "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am." Brax commented before sucking down a few gulps of air to keep himself deadpan. "What can I do?"

"For me, or for you?" There was a hint of scorn attached to her question, but she couldn't help adding quickly, "Is he dead?"

"No." Braxiskroi cast a disappointed look towards the downed Auroun curled into a ball where he had been tossed. "But he will wish for such luxuries when I am done with him." His chin tipped towards the doorway, off to the hall of the library. "Stand outside."

"But, you can't just-"

"Go."

And, though uncertain of the morality of what was occurring, Rhailo did what she was told. Strangely, after what felt like forever in the hallway with the only sounds being tortured cries from her once attacker, the woman felt immense relief. Whatever her brother had done to Arstasiz had obviously been enough to flood her twin with such an emotion, and it spilled over to Rhailo, leaving her aches secondary in wake of their small victory. Soon after, Braxiskroi emerged covered in blood, but smiling. Their pair left the library in this state, back to their quiet home in the cubed city, with Rhailo leaning into her twin for support.

The trust they shared was earned.

Strike three.


Rhailo rose to sit up and do as she was told, taking one of the plates and it's accompanying cup, though the contents of the plate were not what she had expected. Maybe in her mind, she saw Demagol as less well rounded and more straight forward. The fact he didn't just shoot up with protein boosters and capsuled nutrients was refreshing, though caught her off guard. Hesitantly, the Auroun poked at the fruits before taking one of the apple chunks to sniff. Held there, it was investigated with prodding of her tongue, but it seemed safe and was eventually bitten into. Her silence wasn't intentional, but she rarely had someone to speak with over meals. Rarer still was there someone she wished to speak with at any real length. Her gaze didn't rise from the food while it was pushed around, nor did her commentary come until half the contents of the plate were hastily devoured.

"I'm sorry." A simple start to her explanation. "For your loses. I don't know those sort of loses. I don't know what I would do if I had to deal with them..." But this wasn't entirely true. After all, all those past friends and lovers were nothing more than crimson smears across the backdrop of her life. Rhailosioabhan Taicho Destros was a woman coated in the blood of those too blind to see the danger in her company. "We don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry I said what I said. I didn't know." More food would be picked at, dissected, and eventually eaten so there was no reason for Demagol to think she didn't appreciate what he had done for her. It wasn't a bad meal, just eaten in a melancholy mindset.

Memories were baggage she was stuck saddled with even after all her belongings and connections were thrown to the wind. How cruel.

"I was alone because I can't hurt anyone when I'm alone." The barest smile crossed her lips as she looked to the Mandalorian, though buried pain always found a way to display it's presence in her opal hues. A sadness she could never shake. "I still have family... I have ones who care to some extent. Only one of them matters to me, but he isn't aware of my situation with you, and would worry more if I told him the story. Family always worries, yes? He is family, and in such, he worries. He's made it his duty." Finished, the plate was set on the side of the bed away from the pair, and she took a few sips of water before the glass was placed there with it.

"My brother will come for me. He loves me." Only then did the smile seem genuine, and only there did relief find a home in her chest where her heart rattled with past woes. "Maybe in time, he could love you too. See you as family. You saved me, you know... You aren't the villain in this story. You don't have to be, at least." Freed hands were now able to find a place on Demagol's thigh, soft and cautious, as she didn't know how he would react to this admittance. Fear never truly left their company, even if it was only hers to claim. At least she had that left to her name; fear of reactions from a stranger. The hands suddenly recoiled to rest in her lap.

"Thank you for saving me. For taking me off Nar Shaddaa. For dinner."</sub>

---

Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 06-02-2015

<sub>[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Sometimes, when the options otherwise presented seemed bleak, the Auroun was left to hum her commentary. For much of what Demagol said, Rhailo ignored the pressing tone with as much effort as it may have taken to shirk reality; seeking something less painful to swallow. In this, she was moving, searching of a place to rest near the Mandalorian. "It's just something you will have to believe me about-" The woman studied him before expressing a sigh, her figure rolling from the sheets so it could stand on two feet to hover near the male. "But if you can't believe me now, there will be time. I don't know. There is always a way, isn't there? Things just happen, and whether we're prepared for them or not, they're liable to just... Catch us." With opened palms, the sentiment was shared vaguely before her companion had earned a second desperate glance; this time straight to his face.

"Are you upset with me?" The question came blurted, forced passed the frown beginning to cover Rhailo's features. "Please don't be- I can tell when you're upset!" In automatic fashion, the woman was lingering before her partner in some misguided attempt to appease him. One of his knees would be sought, and upon reaching the bent appendage, the Auroun sat on the end in the barely existent layer of elastic clothing she had been loaned. Now, when Demagol scooted inwards, he was burdened with the secondary weight; one which clung to his figure like a needy child. "I just want you to... I don't know. Be happy. Be something other than suspicious..." Rhailo knew the task wasn't something to be attained over night, but she could pretend there was a chance for them to flourish. Otherwise, she really was a slave, discontent with the regime imposed, but unable to overthrow the dictator.

"If you are glad, why do you seem to be waiting for me to misstep?"

It was a serious question unto itself, but the following actions were entirely unrelated; meant to lighten the mood. Rhailo crawled off of Demagol with a whispered "I'm not going to hurt you," and then turned so her legs were spread above his resting head. Where he lay, the Mandalorian was welcome to look at the outline of her curves through the practically sheer material; the shape of her sex begging for attention as it was teased just outside of Demagol's reach. "If anything, shouldn't I be afraid of you?" Hands were running against the material of the Hunter's front while the words hung in the air, steady digits pressed to draw attention to the woman's actions. There was little in way of guidance this time as her body lowered so close, he would find covered nether lips dragging towards his mouth if he wasn't careful. The playful pawing at his groin became a full on removal of his cock, and Rhailo cradled the member in both hands while her rear end wiggled playfully.

Speaking to the head, Rhailo asked before dragging her tongue against the tip in a messy display, "Am I really welcome in your bed?" Perhaps she wished to christen the new location with her scent, to have him dwell over their misdeeds every night he slept in this very room- or maybe she simply missed how his skin had felt so warm and inviting under her own. In some ways, Rhailo could see dragging the moans from her counterpart as a means of assuring both parties involved that this, whatever this was, wasn't lost and forgotten with their new shared existence. So when she spit along his shaft so her hand was free to stroke the girth, her mouth opened over his sex to engulf the topmost portion. The Auroun swallowed Demagol's cock eagerly while he was left with wiggling, gyrating hips that hinted she expected the same treatment from her bedfellow. Her movements were languid and smooth, calculated to a degree she hadn't previously thought herself capable.

Salt and skin. Tasting Demagol's flesh made her thighs quake, and between sucking down the shaft, the woman murred a contented response before pulling back to breath. The action was practiced, and if nothing else, the Mandalorian wouldn't be disappointed by her performance. "I want to be..." She paused to drop another collection of saliva over the end so stray digits could continue stroking her partner to attention, "Something you cherish." How the comment was worded seemed off- not quite as flowery and poetic as would be expected, despite their current angles and positioning. The Auroun flickered her tongue against Demagol's cock again as a means to keep attention exactly where she demanded it to be- her authority subtle, shallow, a mere sway of moist muscles along his engorged organ. They would never be equals, but in too many ways, Rhailo couldn't bare the burden of being on par with Demagol. How she had avoided such responsibilities up until this point, only to be held in such a high regard by her captor of all people- it was stifling. Here though, as best she could, the woman would live up to the minimal expectations of their arrangements.

If he had bought her not to fuck her, he was a fool.

Rhailo's back arched slightly as her hand kicked up it's pace, smoothly pulling friction along Demagol's length while sucking sweetly at the crown. When pre-cum had been earned, the creature inevitably savored the substance with the tip of her tongue; collecting the globs to nurse them down with a breathy sigh of affection. "Can we forget about our problems tonight? Just tonight?" At this point, facing the direction she was, Rhailo was directing commentary towards the wall rather than Demagol. Still, he could hear everything said, and from these pleas, perhaps his heart would be willing to hold the woman, rather than smother her in misguided attempts at protection. His type of man only needed time and patience, or at the very least, a woman capable of wearing the weight of countless worries on her shoulders. There was always times for growing into the role.

Now, she just wanted to feel appreciated; all this talk of belonging obviously required validation.</sub>

---

Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 06-29-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]<sub>Enthralled.

Had she given the Mandalorian reason to find trappings in these feelings? Perhaps in dreams, the Auroun was guilty, but she hadn't intended to start as they had. As they were then. It was lust, and it was a mess, but not once had she tricked herself into believing Demagol had picked up her bounty with the intention to fuck her. On the contrary, she was questioning if her reasoning had been sound from the beginning. That his kind was a brutal sort that had no need for a woman outside of the conquest one relished in concerning sex. Intimacy? It was under recent assumptions that he wanted a lover, and this was how she went about her role on the hunter's ship. Slaves and lovers weren't one in the same, so with as much freedom as she was allotted, the difference could be made. Proven fact rather than theories concocted in the background of the woman's mind.

Her mouth was electric.

How it slipped and how it draped lush lips around his shaft, she was proving a point. Up and down until the back of her throat was tight around the head of his cock, and then some, as though this were the only way to find the validation she was searching for. In a sea of stars, within their craft of metal-matrix composites, Rhailo Destros didn't shy from her captor. Her companion. If anything, there was an eagerness she only exhibited in her most desperate states, where the desire to have him outweighed the fear of losing herself in the process. Without Demagol, where would she be? Without this moment, what would she have to boast? To claim? Was there anything left in the cosmos that was rightfully Rhailo's? Perhaps in some far reaches of the galaxy, there was a shred of salvation for the creature to seek, but it wasn't the time to dwell on future possibilities. Not when fate had dragged her here to be measured by the worth of her companionship, rather than the smooth talk and shady peddling she was otherwise known for.

The Auroun based his manhood with a messy gag, her mouth a closed seal while breath escaped through her nostrils with a rough pant. Her form was etched in pale light, a roseal decadence that seemed laced with lust. She embodied passion, that spark that beckoned the Mandalorian to throw caution to the wind for just one more taste; his tongue earned a cacophony of moans. Breathy, gagging sounds that sheathed his cock in slick saliva, paired with those almost inseparable lips siphoning at the length. To coax a reaction, or to simply drain him of his seed like a starved siren playing with her newest meal. It was a sucking, slurping ordeal with quick hands just as honed on working his circumference as they groped their digits around the male's shaft. Rhailo could pump and suck until she ran out of air- that was the benefit of this heated instinct. It was embedded in the fiber of her being. Demanding, like a voice in the farthest reaches of her consciousness that sang hymns of requited passion and security within Demagol's embrace.

Naturally, the Auroun wanted to feel more than a penetrating tongue ravaging her slathered cunt. Where her mouth worked, that was the throne she preferred, with strong hands ensuring Rhailo didn't get away while thoroughly used. Taken. Yet, even with thoughts of this nature buzzing around in the foreground, there was also a great many reasons to appreciate where she was perched. Her hips moved inwards to grind, riding Demagol's visage while clamped thighs hugged at her companions shoulders. When her rear dipped, she forced his tongue further inwards to lash and lap at the accumulating fluids as a thumb strummed to work her clit. With bucks and bowing rolls of her waist, Rhailo rode his hand with her cunt even as he reciprocated that ferocity she was caught up with. Two forms so different in genetic make up and physical appeal seemed almost magnetic to one another. Muscles complimented curves, and Rhailo's lips sucked longingly as she nursed the tip with messy, affectionate kisses.

Every word spoken reverberated through her sensitive slit, against the collection of coiled muscles fighting to push Demagol's adorations out. Forced to take the wanton advances of the meaty muscles, Rhailo was left writhing, her guttural purrs and whimpers of arousal stifled by the cock crammed down her throat. How merciless he was, ushering responses from his captive by setting her senses into overdrive. Every flick, every lick, every whisper and groan- these responses all grated against an ebbing will until the Auroun found a familiar static resonating from her mid section. The sensation pulled at her loins to tighten and flex inner walls, causing the bobbing of her head to falter along the Mandalorian length. Quaking, the woman seemed to lock up as a pulse of her orgasm seeped through her already hazy thoughts, igniting that frantic wash of spasm stealing pleasure. If strong hands hadn't kept her seated, the woman would have squirmed away while engulfed in carnal bliss.

When she came for him, Rhailo did so selfishly, using the male's features to enhance the stimulation. He would taste that hunger even as she was cock-choked and shuddering, messily embellishing his girth with slick saliva coating and the hum of her cries as they ripped from her throat. Seized as she was, it was a helpless position. Firmly planted, the Auroun was groping around Demagol's girth, pumping his thick cock even as her cunt earned star treatment from the hunter. What a beast he could be; the recesses of space must leave a man dwelling on his next lover often. Had Demagol thought of moments like these before they met, replacing Rhailo with the countenance of another more familiar female? All the things he could do, all the positions he could have someone in, if only there was a person to fill that vacancy...

And in some wild stroke of luck, Rhailo Destros sneaked into the Mandalorian's life without trying to. Gagging again, she forced herself to slam back down so her lips kissed the curl of his dark pubis while his member was enveloped by her weak vocals. A strange pair they made, but she was in league with the bizarre, and having Demagol just seemed to fit. He was making her fit him- fit into this transient lifestyle he led. Almost like her own drifting, but with purpose. Goals. All those accomplishments the woman had never thought to chase. Captive or not, Rhailo couldn't argue logic, and had no complaints with her position amongst foreign weaponry and a typically stoic bounty hunter.

If anything, she demanded to be accepted into this lifestyle, whether he was prepared for that responsibility or not.</sub>

---

Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 08-05-2015

<sub><img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Floating through the cosmos had a way of dragging out long forgotten fears in a manner that drew attention from any abruptness in their actions. One needn't rectify what had occurred, but should viewers find themselves confused over why such things were meant to be, they need only to follow the bread crumbs. Rhailo Destros was a survivor scorned, lost in a sea of faces who watched disapprovingly; souls searching for one that was like her, but not quite her. As she had been told once or twice before meeting Demagol, she was the outlet for 'pick-up-and-go fun' before a man thought he was ready to settle down. Noncommittal, party types. Her type, some of the time. The Auroun felt timid as she seeped pleasured juices across a hungry tongue, and her figure quaked weakly as the Mandalorian's thumb forced the woman to ride her partner's visage through wave after wave of spasm inducing climax. There was a feeling entwined with the orgasm; a sense of weightless ambiguousness. At some point, it may have very well been torturous for the creature choking pleas around the head of Demagol's cock, but in an almost intimidating way, she was kept silenced.

Just a few muffled moans to reverberate around the crown of her companion's member, a sloppy shine of saliva glazing taut flesh where he proceeded to fuck her throat. Rhailo came until she couldn't physically continue, and then felt the peak of a second series of shuddering sentiments encompass her senses. At this point, moonlit locks were grabbed, and Rhailo was pulled away from her task, dribbling spit and tears as ropey lines were severed, and she was openly panting through whimpered whispers. Pale hues showed their luminance as they blinked down at the hunter, and for the briefest second, she met his gaze through a hazy stain of tears. Rhailo's lips parted as she was settled into Demagol's lap, her ass cheeks spreading while those same strong hand's of the male dragged her body low against his muscled waist. The twitch of his cock sliding against her folds caused the Auroun to tense, but Demagol had no intention of waiting for her to relax, and she found herself heaved upwards to grant him access.

As tight as she had been previously, Rhailo's still sensitive cunt swallowed the Mandalorian's sex in slick, arcing display. Back bending, hands gripping at her own thighs for support, the creature exhaled a moan as every inch made inner walls expand, the muscles tensely attempting to return to their previous shape as they encompassed the foreign appendage. Molded over his girth, wrapped in their delicious embrace even while the woman above struggled against her captor. It was, in some ways, endearing how she cried; her melodrama staged and standard. She wouldn't fuck Demagol if she didn't wish to, and there were several reasons she could think about concerning why he may have been untouchable. As a stroke of luck, she was easily coaxed into keeping him company despite potential problems in times to come.

One without company finds it easiest to settle with someone outside their normal type. Demagol was far larger than those Rhailo had been with in the past, his stature and structure enticing because it seemed so mysterious. He didn't speak, or seem to make small talk, without prompting. He looked her in the eyes when he spoke to her. He demanded things she had never expected others to want, and he asked for things she hadn't thought herself capable of giving. Now she was held in possessive captivity by someone she thought about growing close to, even if it meant setting herself up for indefinite failure. Rhailo secretly enjoyed being kept- part of the attraction to Demagol stemmed from his purchase. He was, in honest terms, the keeper of her contract. He owned her.

What that might evolve into, she didn't know. The fact was only lingered upon because it turned her on, and while a pace was set for their thrusting conjoining, the Auroun shamelessly drifted over what being owned meant. Collared, instructed; a certain level of obedience. A tinge of fear mixed with an almost overwhelming sense of arousal. Her lips lost in limbo, half aware they were being kissed, and the taste of sweet fluids was licked away by her flickering tongue. Swirling back from tracing the outline of the male's incisors, their kiss broke so Rhailo could messily pant and breath a series of quiet, needy moans. Demagol took to speaking through his grunts, growling a message that made her stomach muscles seize once more in desperate response as if he was reading her mind, and the dictation given couldn't be any more accurate than how it was presented then.

When he first made these claims, Rhailo had been unsure. Now, in the heat of the moment, everything was starting to change. To adapt. Emotions were no longer strained, and the burn out of Nar Shaddaa was becoming a distant memory. Without the weight of suffocating stress to bog down the finer details of their relationship, agreeing with Demagol was easy. Incredibly so. "I'm yours." A simple sound to pass through cracked lips, ushered between the audible lull of throaty moans. "Cum for me, Dema..." Rhailo's hips rolled into their gyrations, working in as confined a space as they could each time she was based. Squeezing his cock as the constriction of wanton ligature aimed to milk him for every drop of his seed. In this way, she could be needy as well. Spoiled. Expectant that the hunter would appease this desire by pumping her full of his hot load; he would use her to get off.

Rhailo tightened the grip of her thighs where they hugged Demagol's hips, pulling herself inwards as the swell of another orgasm blossomed from the pit of her stomach. Her lower abdomen ached from previous contractions, but the wash of numbing pleasure seemed enough to cause the Auroun irrevocable tension through a strangling struggle of undulating muscles. Her ass planted itself firm against the hunter's groin, forcing Demagol to feel every strained movement smothering his buried cock, with Rhailo anchored where she was held. Her figure locked up, rigid in some sense with her spine curving to make space between herself and the male. How many times would she cum all over the head of his cock before he grew tired of her? Fears for another time. Her mind had room for very little besides the act itself, and even that was a blur of shapes and motion. Her eyes closed to chase away residual tears in attempts to hone her focus, a delicate mouth left blindly sharing cooed praise between them.

"Cum for me, Daddy- I wanna feel you fill me up..." Rhailo couldn't help leaning back in to whisper at the Mandalorian's ear, "I've been such a naughty slut for you, haven't I?"</sub>

---

Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 08-27-2015

<sub><img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Throaty moans escaped from start to finish, in time with the pelvic thrusts issued that jostled the Auroun where she was planted on Demagol's lap. It was, in ways she hadn't the capability to describe, electrifying. All that tension was gone, replaced by sweet release that spilled from her ravaged cunt to his groin. Her insides were painted with his load, eager muscles gripping and tense where they engulfed the Mandalorian's cock greedily. Rhailo needed him like she needed air; like the grass demanded the sun if it was meant to grow. To flourish. She was changing in his care, that attitude of hers ever so slightly shifting from one of disregard to something resembling general interest. Her investment in a future the two were slowly building on the shaky foundation his paying off her contract offered them. Amid burden and hardship, there was more to be sought after, and more to be found.

A glimpse of devotion.

Rhailo's whimpered sounds were pleas when she was forced to grind at the base of the male's sex, seated so his girth pulsed and thrummed in the tight confines of her dripping orifice. Every drop was hers. Every word was hers. Every hiss and groan and tensing series of guided movements, all related to and made for her. That was the first and only time Rhailo felt so secure in someone else's arms, held tight to the Mandalorian's chest while whispered sounds ushered between their two figures. A set of digits rose to meet her throat, and while they tightened, she blinked teary oculars the shade of ivory at her captor. Her mouth gaped slightly in muted protest, her noises shifting to strangled gasps and desperate attempts at air. Yet in this place of vulnerability, the woman rocked her hips to enhance her pleasure, constricting inner walls hugging around Demagol's cock possessively as though she had commandeered it for her own needs.

One didn't question how their lust might be sated. Not if they had any intention of continuing to satisfy their cravings, at least.

What had been said in the heat of the moment now returned full circle, the Auroun's neck released just enough to allow those gasps for air room to happen. She was given permission the breath while his soft spoken message made her blush. Her cheeks wore color beneath the strain of blood rising to the surface as response to his choking. Perhaps it was embarrassment, or something similar in fashion. Rhailo thought of it more as her flattered sense of acceptance. Yes, he could be her Daddy. Yes, he owned her contract. Yes, Demagol deserved to hear her acknowledge his words. Slowly, and carefully, a soft admittance was given from where she panted quietly towards the hunter. "Daddy." Exactly as it was, her pigmentless lashes blinked several times as residual tears were shed, giving her that sort of appeal one wore when they were helpless. She knew as well as he did that her fragility was appreciated. Yearned after at times, as if there was no denying his thirst for dominance was attracted to her hunger to be disciplined.

And so the pair sat together in the mess they made of the bed that was now technically shared.

Rhailo couldn't help leaning her features inwards as a small peck was given to the tip of Demagol's nose. It couldn't be misconstrued as sexual or enticing in any regard, but it was genuine. The affection was playful and direct, and though Rhailo thought over countless ways she could reply to the winded hunter, nothing sounded quite so sincere as the message she settled on sharing. "I like when you're thinking of me." A familiar smirk crossed her lips, her tongue peeking out enough to graze the underside of her incisors before prodding one of her canines. "You let me make a mess of your clean sheets." Both of her hands ascended to cup the male's features as she moved in further; close enough to brush his lips with her own through the tangle of thoughts. "Do you feel better now?" The way she asked was borderline cocky, but it also hinted at her curiosity. She wanted to know how he felt because despite their previous activities and the nature of said act, she knew that wasn't always enough.

In this vein of logic, Rhailo wanted to be enough for him. Not just a stress ball Demagol squeezed when things seemed exceedingly difficult. No. Instead, she hoped he would see her as more. Much more. What that entailed was something the Auroun wasn't thoroughly versed in, but she would learn with Demagol if that was an option. If not, she would find a way to cope on her own, without assistance. It had only been two days, after all- though these two days proved more compelling and provocative than any she could recall experiencing. What had once been a pastime meant to dwindle the hours on drunken nights out now felt personal. Rhailo felt connected, and it scared her, especially when Demagol was receptive to that private need she harbored. Was he looking to have her wholly, or was this a physical commitment without true merit? Whether Rhailo admitted it or not, she was a woman stitched together by a delicate tapestry of flaws. They all fed into one another, and to pluck an individual out of place could send the rest unraveling in a detrimental display of wasted potential.

"I'm sleepy." And with little more than a nod following, the Auroun draped her pale physique, with it's eerie illumination embedded in the skin, against her tanned counterpart. Her lips were featherlight at his pulse, and though she had more to say, there was time taken to taste sweat stained skin. Her touch was always cautious, and how she held him related to what she was. A being of inhuman radiance and ethereal caresses, with a body meant for carnal deeds, was not rough. Not even in the presence of one so violent, even when she smelled like him. In the wake of their union, Rhailo carried Demagol's scent just as noticeably as there were marks and marring done by his teeth. How proud she was of this fact with her expression hidden from the Mandalorian, smugness barely detectable in her tone as she mentioned offhandedly, "You need sleep, Daddy. If you don't sleep, I'll just ask you questions all night..."</sub>

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