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Sanctuary [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-24-2017

She was moaning and lustful, like she had been when climbing on top of him, as if his little session breaking her open had never happened. She had worse short-term memory than he did, it seemed. But his lips and teeth felt so good on her neck, nipping and pinching and it felt like it should break her skin but it never seemed to.

If she could get him to move more slowly, they could get into that position again, where she could see all of him looming over her, making her seem smaller than small. He could wrap his hand around her neck, squeeze her life in his hands, fuck her wide open until all she could feel was him. Those long, slow thrusts, where she felt every inch of him and he hurt her, but not too much.

She panted and moaned against his skin, hands slick against his cock. She let out a whine of complaint when his lips left her neck even for an instant, but he silenced her with a kiss, and it was so good, because people didn't kiss her. She moaned into his mouth, and he came.

She was suddenly very wet and very sticky, approximately everywhere. And it just kept coming, spraying out against her, marking her neck and chest, stomach, even her legs, soaking into her stockings.

He'd finished, and she was still on fire. She was flushed and panting and exhausted, but she wanted to be more of all of those things, if he could just do it without breaking her. She stared at him with eyes full of desire, every inch of her dripping with cold glitter. She was sticky, but she didn't hesitate to grab at his hand, because his abdomen and legs were also dripping with come, and she didn't think he was going to mind getting any messier.

She brought his hand to the front of her neck, panting with need.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 03-24-2017

    Temporarily sated, blissfully content thanks to her performance, he'd been about to figure out if he could make her do it again. Keep touching him, keep kissing, more noises. Or else he could rub his cock against her stomach, because whenever he did any one thing too long she seemed to complain, and he could think of nothing worth complaining about when it came to harmless rubbing. Her skin was so slick and so glittery and so warm, surely it couldn't hurt her if he just touched her more?

    Then she guided his hand to her neck, and he was confused all over again.

    Once, she had done this, and it had meant she wanted him to ride her. But he'd been doing that, and he'd hurt her, and so they'd done something else. His grip tightened, and he rubbed at the lower part of her stomach again, the way he'd done before.

    It felt the same. Was she full, or wasn't she? Could she take more, or couldn't she?

    Instructions were unclear. He didn't want his dick getting caught in anything he'd regret. He'd been hurt before.

    Emotionally. Not physically. Rejection was painful. Emotionally.

    Still holding her neck, he pulled her a little closer, until he could position his cock between her thighs. Would she get on it herself, if he gave her the chance? Letting her sit on things was seeming like the safest way to figure out what she wanted.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-24-2017

He looked a bit confused. Fair enough. He confused the shit out of her, too, so it might as well be mutual bewilderment. Frankly, at this point, she confused herself. What was she doing? She didn't know, so he shouldn't ask her. All she knew was life was short and there were corpses downstairs and she might not survive the night and he could make her feel things.

His hand tightened around her neck, and she moaned. He rubbed his other hand over her stomach, smearing his come around. He'd done that before, when she'd said she was hurt. Maybe he was checking to see if anything had changed? Something had, but he sure as hell wouldn't be able to feel it from the outside. Unless he dropped his hand considerably lower, to where her clit was so hard it practically throbbed.

When he lifted her by her neck, she thought she might actually come right then and there. She let out a little choking noise, which might have been the reason he supported the rest of her weight with his other hand. She wished he wouldn't. She wanted to know what it felt like to be lifted by her neck. It would probably hurt. Would she be able to breathe? She wanted to know. She would probably not be able to get him to understand that, however.

He was positioning himself between her legs, but to her infinite relief, not shoving her down onto it. Perhaps this was an ideal time for another lesson in basic English.

"Slow," she choked out. It was a bit hard to speak with her hand around her neck. She liked that, but it might give him a weird accent one day. "Slow."

Steeling herself, she rubbed the head against her core. Ohhhh god. It was actually scarier this way. Like, way scarier. She gripped his shoulders, nails digging against his skin. She tried to let gravity do the work, but whimpered in pain at even the first inch. It was just too big, why was anything this fucking big? It was unnecessary!

She tried to focus of the feel of his hand around her neck. He could stand to grip a little tighter, but then, she always thought that. It was possibly the only thing in which he was more gentle then she necessarily wanted him to be.

"It hurts," she whined. "Go slow. Slow." She let herself slide down another half-inch, and whimpered. At least she was drenched down there, but it was so cold, like all of her was cold. Soaking and glittering and chilled.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 03-24-2017

    That was a tone of warning, clearly. He recognized that just fine. No idea what the hell it meant, though. His understanding did not improve as she lowered herself onto his cock, whimpering all the while.

    And then the bad noise? The no-touching noise? But he wasn't! She was touching herself!

    This was getting ridiculous. He wasn't about to get kicked and flailed at again when she was the one putting his cock inside her. A man, or beast, had to draw the line somewhere.

    Slowly, with a grip on her neck that he could only hope wasn't too tight – she'd pull at his hand if it was, wouldn't she? – he pulled her up, resisting the temptation to thrust back in as her body stroked the tip of his cock. It would be so easy to just pull her down, it would be so easy to just hold her still and thrust deep into her. He loosened his hold on her once she was off of him, allowing her to move more freely again.

    He didn't think she would understand why he was growling, if he growled. He was getting better at realizing when that sort of thing would be ambiguous. Ambiguity was bad. It lead to screeching, and yowling, and kicking.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-24-2017

He lifted her up off his cock. By her neck. By just her neck. His grip was briefly tight, so tight it nearly cut off her air. And the sensation of being lifted by it was...

She wasn't sure she had the words.

He loosened his hold of her and she inhaled sharply, face flushed and eyes hazy with arousal. He could have slammed her back down on his cock and she wouldn't have had a word of complaint. Well, she would have had several, but none so important as if he bounced her up and down on his cock by her neck. Like she was something he was using to masturbate with.

She was uncertain if it was possible for a person to be more aroused than she felt right now. Why was he pulling her off? It must be because of the words she was using. She was confusing him, trying to teach him too much at once. She needed to prioritize.

Priority one, getting him to squeeze her neck like that again. She pushed herself back down on his cock, still slowly, but a little bit more forcefully this time. She managed to get about two inches this time before she had to stop, whining in pain. It felt good, and she thought she could maybe find that place he seemed to hit so effortlessly. But he was just so thick, and she was so damn narrow. She pushed his hand against her neck again. She didn't want to say it was fine, because with that sort of attitude, he'd get over-excited and snap her neck in half. But she wanted him to lift her again. Then maybe ram her down onto him, or hold her still by her neck and thrust, or pin her onto the ground again... Her moan was between pain and arousal as she leaked cum and her own fluids around his head.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 03-25-2017

    He growled in confused arousal as she lowered herself back onto his cock, watching her all the while. Still so tight and hot, still soaked in sex. She whimpered again, pushed his hand against her neck.

    Slowly, not sure what he was doing or why, he started pulling her off his cock again.

    He wanted her again so badly.

    He thrust back into her, unable to help himself. And then again, and again. His grip alternated between her neck and her hip, varying with whether he wanted to pull her up or down.

    She just… felt really nice. Was all.

    This position was not working, he decided, because holding her by the neck like this was evocative of things he did not want to think about when he was inside her. Did not want to think of in the context of her, in general. So he moved, and took her with him, her back on the floor once again. He held her down by the neck, wrapped her good leg around him so he could hold her open, the way he'd done before.

    He'd liked it so much, before, until she'd tried to kick him.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-25-2017

He fucked her.

Pulled her up and down on his cock, neck and hips.

She wasn't sure if she came, if she was coming, if she was doing anything but coming, because it hurt so much, but it felt so good. She thought she might be losing her mind. Gasping and moaning, but not writhing, because he was moving her.

He pushed her onto the ground again, held her down by her throat and loomed. He pushed into her, filled her up to the brim but no further. His wings flared, sharp outline in the moonlight. God. She loved it. Her back arched up to meet him, whines and whimpers and moans and panting with each stroke. She was pretty sure she was coming; she was clenching down on him so hard that it felt like she was going to split clean in half. She wasn't sure she'd be able to walk tomorrow, but she didn't even care. Right then it felt so good and she felt so full.

She sort of wished she had a name to scream. She felt like he deserved some praise, deserved to know how good he was when he was good. She'd kiss him when he was done wrecking her, she decided. He liked kissing. That could be a way for her to let him know she'd liked it.

And then maybe she could pass out.

She wasn't sure what she'd do if he wanted to fuck more after this.

Let him, probably.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 03-26-2017

    Again and again he thrust into her, but there were no struggles or screams this time. Nothing but good sounds, wet sounds, slick skin, tight muscles getting somehow even tighter around him. His, utterly, to do with as he pleased without objection or complaint or any fight at all. He was victorious over conquered prey and he took her as such, harder and faster with long strokes and beating wings and just merciful enough not to break her.

    He took his hands off her before he came, because he didn't want to risk it. Claws digging into the wood beside her suggested this had been the wise approach. For the second time that night, his seed filled her past full, joined the fluids still soaking her thighs.

    This time, when he'd finished, he pulled out.

    He'd learned his lesson in that regard, at least for the night.

    Cautiously, he nuzzled at her cheek. Was this correct? Had he staked his claim properly this time, such that she would not immediately withdraw all affection?

    Now what?



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-26-2017

She felt herself getting a bit hazy before he finished--exhaustion setting in. She'd had a very stressful two days. She was utterly limp by the time he came, a mewling puddle of sparkling seed and satisfaction. She ached absolutely, every inch of her, muscles so tired she wasn't sure she could even roll over. She was relieved when he pulled out instead of beginning again, because she would have had no strength to stop him, nor probably even the will to try and request it.

He nuzzled against her cheek, that strange, clicking purr. Dazed but happy, she was beyond pleased to not have to move much to complete her plan. She took his face in her hands and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him with what little energy and passion she had left. She wanted him to know it had been good, wanted him to understand the differences between good pain and bad pain, good fear and bad fear, even though she wasn't entirely sure she understood them herself.

But he'd stopped when she'd managed to communicate that he needed to--that a foot to the face had been involved didn't seem all that outrageous to her. He was definitely clever, she decided. Animals couldn't understand that. There was something in there. And it didn't seem to intend to kill her, seemed to be concerned about her leg and her safety. Had killed three men that were here to hurt her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders for a brief hug--brief only because she was fading fast. She hadn't slept very much at all in two days, and it had been a blur of danger and sex and running and fear. She was falling asleep, whether she wanted to or not.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 03-26-2017

    Her kiss came as a profound relief, and he reciprocated enthusiastically. Good! Yes! This was good!

    The relief dissipated as she started to go limp in his arms.

    Shit! Had he killed her? Had it been too much? What happened!

    He whined, running his hand over her cheek. He shouldn't have been holding her like this, if she was dying. Even if he wanted to be. Else he'd still be holding her when he fell dormant, and it would be obvious to anyone who saw him that he hadn't been killing all intruders the way he was meant to. He whined again, because leaving her alone on the floor felt disloyal and cruel. What else could he do?

    He was still making small sounds of distress as he untangled from her, backing away and watching her all the while. He curled up once again with his hands on his knees, anxiously convinced that he'd turn to stone at any moment as she slipped away into nothingness.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-26-2017

She made quiet, fussy noises as he set her down, discontented for reasons she didn't quite have the clarity of mind to decipher. The ground was cold and uncomfortable and she was covered in cold wet. She rolled over in the puddle of glittery semen that was her new bed, apparently, curling up into a more comfortable fetal position where she could tuck her arms under her head.

She groped blindly towards where she thought her hoodie might be, before giving up and calling Phoebe to drag it to her. She was still a bit grumpy about the violent force with which Ren had made her not attack the monster earlier, but she acquiesced, crawling out of the hoodie and beginning the arduous task of dragging it over to Ren's outstretched hand. Ren snatched it up as as soon as it was close enough with a murmured thanks, tossing it over her naked form for a bit of warmth. Then she yawned and drifted off, the rat curling up in the crook of her arm.

Occasionally, she twitched or snorted in her sleep.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    He watched her.

    And watched.

    And watched.

    He didn't understand the initial settling in, with the rat. And he didn't understand why the rat was staying, and snuggling with her. He didn't understand, more importantly, why he was still… alive?

    Tentatively, he poked her. She twitched and made a disgruntled sound. The rat seemed angry. He backed away.

    … could she be… dormant?

    Humans didn't turn to stone. He knew this. But he had no other frame of reference for a state neither alive nor dead, unmoving but still capable of eventual motion. He had no understanding, either, of what might trigger her dormant state. The sun hadn't come up. The moon wasn't doing anything different.

    Maybe it was for repairs? Or growth? Humans could grow, and do other things that he could not. If he didn't kill them properly, they could keep on living, and eventually repair themselves. A dormant state might allow their magic to work. Tentatively, he retrieved his loincloth, and tied it back onto himself. Then he returned to his crouch.

    He watched her sleep. He didn't know how long. Nothing special seemed to happen, except that she was there and breathing. He was irritated about the rat. He would have liked to curl up with her like that. He just couldn't, because they might get stuck.

    Hmph.

    At least he could watch her, anyway. The rise and fall of her breathing was reassuring.

    The sun rose, but he didn't see it.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-08-2017

Ren woke slowly. Stiff, and very confused, and surrounded by a dozen rats. That wasn't the confusing part; that was actually very standard. She was... indoors. Sun was coming in boarded-up windows, shifting between cracks.

The church.

The creature!

She saw it, squatting nearby, staring at her. It wasn't moving. After a few moments of not moving herself, she realized it wasn't going to.

It was stone.

Mystified, she sat up the rest of the way and crawled over to it, cautious. Yes, that was... that was stone. He was stone. He looked like a... what did they call them? Gargoyles? Grotesques? Chimeras? The stone creatures on old cathedrals, though she'd never seen one that looked quite like this. The mental image she had in her head was smaller, more animalistic. But the bat wings, yes, that made it seem possible.

She was pulling on very old, very vague memories here, things she had learned in a brightly decorated room in a house mostly scarce of bright things.

Her tutor, Précepteur. She'd read something, once, or just absorbed it through general cultural osmosis... or, maybe something from a book? There had been so many books, because Noah liked seeing her read.

"It's a clever girl that can read without being taught," he'd said. It had counted as praise, to her.

But she was getting sidetracked. There were legends, weren't there? Of grotesques coming to life? He was very much not alive right now, but it was clearly him. He was even still splattered in blood.

...Blood.

Shit.

The dead bodies.


Ren spent far, far too much of her time in this goddamn town running in fucking mortal terror.

First night? Running from traffickers. Second night? Running from traffickers who were trying to kill her. Third night? She'd actually fucking slept for once, and after tonight, after her nice day, she'd thought she'd have a nice evening, a nice night, and wake up tomorrow to face the day and eat a lot of bread and apples.

But no.

No, because this was a horrifying goddamn town full of horrifying goddamn monsters. Were there even any humans here?! Was she the only fucking one?!

She'd been attacked. In the classic sense, in the mua-ha-ha, now-I'll-have-my-way-with-you sense. It was hardly the first time, but as it turned out, humans didn't menace as well as vampires. Vampires menaced very well. They were also very strong. And showed themselves very willing to kill rats. And she'd probably be dead, horribly, or dying, right now, if it hadn't been for a very timely rescue from a guardian angel.

Who may have been, for all Ren knew, an actual guardian angel. Because Ruka sure as fuck wasn't goddamn human. Nothing in this town was goddamn human. It was just a series of horrible monsters.

She was going to the place with the horrible monster she knew. The horrible monster that ate cake and frosting and worried about her injuries and curled her up in his wings like he would never let anything hurt her. The monster that she knew wanted something from her, something often painful but sometimes good. That was reassuring, the way how Jean wanting things from her was reassuring. Now that she knew Ruka wasn't human, she was more sure than ever that they wanted something. But what? She didn't know. She wasn't going to stick around and find out.

Rather than go in the same window, she climbed onto the roof of the cathedral. There was a tower up there, a clock tower with open sides. She clambered in there, just to get out of the elements, somewhere safe. She scrambled down into the darkness. She found a corner, and curled up in it, shaking violently.

Her clothes were still torn. She was wearing half a hoodie and the shredded remains of a shirt and bra. Her pants were lost entirely; she'd kicked them of as she ran so they wouldn't trip her. She still had her backpack, because she'd had the presence of mind to grab it. She crammed the book she still held back into it, hands shaking violently.

Her neck hurt where it had been torn into. She should... she should do something about that. Trembling hands dug through her bag for the leftover bandages, ones she'd been using on her leg. She found the wound on her neck, two sharp tears pouring blood. She wrapped the bandage around, tight enough to stop the flow of blood, she hoped. Loose enough she could still breathe, though she couldn't breathe, not really, air didn't feel like it was reaching her lungs.

She was crying. She was shaking. She was covered in blood. Rats began to trickle in, ones that had already started to infest the cathedral, scrambling through walls and in windows to get to her, slowly, one at a time. Phoebe and Timothy and a few others poked their heads out of her backpack. They were scared too.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, voice shaking. "I didn't mean to get him killed, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They didn't seem to hold it against her at all. They knew this was part of the risk. They didn't mind. But it was still scary.

She agreed.

It was still scary.


RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - Tindome - 04-11-2017

    The sanctity of the circle was broken, but when he woke, there was frosting. And cake.

    And nothing else.

    Nothing fell in the window. There was no commotion downstairs. Somewhere there was an intruder he was meant to be killing. He was fairly sure it was his girl, who had left him this frosting and cake. Who he should still rightfully be killing, to teach her an important lesson about not coming back here to give him frosting and cake.

    He fell to all fours to prowl the second floor, listening and smelling the air. He looked over the railing, which nearly collapsed under his hand.

    That wasn't supposed to happen.

    He jumped down to the first floor. The bodies were gone, the way they were supposed to be, but… the smell wasn't right. He clambered over and beneath pews, inspecting the area as much as looking for his intended prey. Almost everything was still covered in dust, rot. There was no strength, no power, only age and decay. Empty.

    He touched his broken horn.

    What was he protecting?

    He flared out his wings, pushed off from the floor to return to the second story. A rat was sniffing at his cake. He hissed at it in warning, and it scurried away.

    Hm.

    The hole in the window that his girl kept getting through couldn't quiet support his weight. He had to fly up and dig his claws into the wooden frame around it, then draw his wings in close to fit through it. He had never been outside the church that he could recall, but he was aware that he could do it. The circle was drawn as an outside perimeter, giving him less space at the corners and more in the middle of the wall. In theory he could go up for as long as he wanted. He just never had. There was never time. Nothing had ever made it up here. There were guardians to prevent intruders during the day, when he was dormant.

    But the church was empty, now.

    He was still slinking on all fours, tail drawing low curved shapes behind him. There were rats up here, too. His claws scratched over the shingles until he could poke his head into the clock tower, smelling the air.

    Found her.



RE: Sanctuary [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-11-2017

Ren had been vaguely aware that, sooner or later, her gargoyle friend--who she now suspected was, in fact, a gargoyle, despite confusing differences--would show up. She had expected him to slink up the stairs, however. She had expected him to take longer to find her.

So when he poked his head in above her, she screamed bloody murder.

Hey, it had been a long fucking night.

She scrambled away, kicking against the ground until her back smacked into another wall, and she realized, belatedly. Horns. One broken. This was her terrifying monster. Er. Hopefully. For all she knew, this would be the time he decided to tear her spine out.

Just the thought of him, too, turning out to be out to kill her, caused her to burst into loud tears.

"I hate this place! I hate it so fucking much! There aren't even any people here, just terrifying goddamn monsters trying to kill me or rape me or rape and then kill me, or maybe eat my goddamn soul or emotions or something, I don't even know," she wailed out loud. She flopped over onto her side, curling up. If he was going to kill her, he was going to have to come in and do it himself, and then he could clean up the mess afterwards.

She didn't want him to kill her. She wanted him to pick her up like he had a few nights ago. Carry her someplace safe, wrap her up in his wings. She sob-hiccuped against the floor. She hated this fucking town.