Boxed [Closed] - Printable Version
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Boxed [Closed] - megs - 10-13-2017
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RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 10-13-2017
Darcy’s wife had given him a box. It was inconspicuous as far as strange boxes given to him by his wife went. It was rectangular, just large enough to be efficient without seeming cumbersome. Similar to a jewelry box. It was constructed out of dark wood covered in a shining lacquer. Delicate pieces of mother of pearl decorated the entirety in intricate designs in the shape of peonies and insects. An ornate silver locking mechanism resembling a butterfly kept the box closed.
Though, appearing ordinary, Darcy knew it was anything but. Ishara, his wife, had been speaking to him of how she’d been praying to the gods for an end to the war that had been ravaging their home of Eskra for many years. Though, in truth, it affected their daily lives minimally, as he was a scholar of magic at the nearby university and his wife was a spiritual healer, their youngest son was a decorated general, constantly manning the front lines of the conflict. Ishara said she had been pleading to Desdemona, the goddess of war, however it was Sorlisle, a goddess of discord that had answered her call.
Both, Ishara and Darcy, knew that it was risky to put faith in an item bequeathed by Sorlisle, even if that item was presented as a gift. Disappointed that she had not been given something more obviously useful by a patron more trustworthy, Ishara deposited the box with her husband for further research.
Which now meant the box was sitting on his desk in his cluttered office. Among other strange and mystical objects that he had yet to find time to get to. Stashed with a million other plain and ordinary things that his youngest son, Owen, knew to absolutely not touch while he waited for his father in said office.
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2017
Owen knew better than to handle any object in his father’s study that did not appear ordinary. He wasn’t permitted in his mother’s study or shop anymore. His father, for better or for worse, was somewhat more lenient on his incorrigible son.The gods only know why Darcy was so permissive with Owen.
It wasn’t as if Darcy’s son had given him any reason to place his trust in him.
No.
But of course Owen was very much so already handling the newest addition to the collection of arcane and magical looking objects lining the shelf. What was it? A jewelry box? Or one of those music boxes with the dancer that spins inside? If he was truly lucky it was a cigar box and he’d find some imported Veridian cigars inside. He loved those.
There was absolutely no reason for his fascination with a box. It had simply stuck out to him among the other things gathered there. He felt immediately attracted to it. The shining finish and gleaming decoration announced itself as something special. Rare. He very much liked rare and pretty things.
And why shouldn’t he have them?
If only he could figure out the latch. After he had run his fingers over the top of the box and investigated the hinges at the back, Owen’s fingers pinched at the wings of the butterfly that marked the box latch. That wasn’t the mechanism. He fiddled some more with the butterfly to no avail. Such a simple task surely should have been no problem. Too easy to anger for his own good, Owen growled in defeat sorely accepted and he batted at the box frustrated with it. He took his blame out on the object itself.
It clattered to the floor and Owen turned from it with a huff to dump himself carelessly into the chair across his father’s desk. He glared at the box on the floor. This is why he was never given pretty things as a child. He always abused them.
His leg bounced and index finger tapped out their own impatient rhythms as he waited for his father to join him for their meeting. The fidgeting stopped only long enough for Owen to tug his tight fitting military uniform into place on his tall frame.
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 10-18-2017
The box slid easily across the floor. Decorated wood scraped uncomfortably against the patterned tiles of Darcy’s office, until it met an opposite wall with a dull thud. For a moment that was it. The only sounds in the room were Owen’s impatient fidgeting and it appeared as if nothing would come of his brief tantrum of knocking a magical artifact to the floor. If only he could have been so lucky.
The tightly sealed box he had been so adamant and unsuccessful in breaching, opened all on its own. The butterfly he had been toying with dropped to the floor and the lid lifted. Immediately, a dark smoke began pouring from the open container. At first thick clouds rolled near the box, hesitant to push outward, but as if possessed with a mind of its own, gaseous tendrils snaked forward, feeling out the room like they were seeking something. The smoke stopped at Owen’s feet, before coalescing in on itself. It bunch and twisted and grew taller in height; shaping something.
All at once the smoke dissipated and the figure of a woman was left in place of it. She was, however, no ordinary human woman, but very obviously a demon of some sort. While she wasn’t very tall, only somewhere in the middle of five feet, she had skin the color of charcoal and a curving pair of horns stuck out from between layers of dark curls on either side of her head. A daintier pair of horns also protruded off the top. Red eyes surrounded by yellow sclera, quickly looked over the man standing before her.
“You’ve summoned me.” It wasn’t a question. She crossed her arms. The gesture pushed together breasts that were barely contained in the gauzy fabric of the robe-like dress she wore. A single clasp at her throat looked like the only thing keeping the garment together; which was only made more obvious when she tugged at the clasp and the dress fell from her shoulders, catching around her shapely hips and leaving her effectively topless. The demon stepped closer and smoothed her hands over Owen’s chest. She gazed up at him through a fringe of dark lashes. “What is it you wish?”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 10-23-2017
The box had skittered away and so Owen, of course, had already forgotten about the blasted thing that wouldn’t open. It had left some kind of wound on his pride. Not even competent enough to open a box? What an insult to his intelligence. He was feeling huffy and impatient and fiddled needlessly with his uniform while smoke poured from the box unnoticed by the perturbed young general. It was the dark shadow of smoke moving at the bottom of his vision that caught his eye. When he directed his gaze towards it, he realized it was moving towards him. Owen resisted the urge to pick up his feet from the floor and cower from it.
Instead, he steeled himself and put his hand on his firearm posted on his hip. It was a handsome pistol with an engraved grip gifted to him by his father. Owen had gone to great lengths to obtain a military affidavit to carry the gun as his official sidearm with his dress uniform. It was hard to say what Owen enjoyed more, the status symbol the gun represented or the fuss it caused amongst some lesser officers prone to jealousy.
Of course the pretty gun would be (probably) useless against ominous smoke, so his handling of the weapon was really a reflexive reaction that made him feel in control of a situation that he did not have any control of.
Owen’s cautious gaze watched as the smoke seemed to gather in on itself. It took a shape. A womanly shape. Owen was soon gazing at a beautiful woman of a species or type he had never seen before. His gaze was naturally drawn to the open chested dress which showed enough of her breasts to make him swallow hard. When she spoke, his gaze darted upwards. His eyes immediately bounced back to her chest when her breasts were pushed together by her arms in a way that was entirely too pleasing to stare at. Pushed together and upwards by her arms like some kind of favor just for him.
What a stupid assumption. He forced his gaze back to her face chastising himself for falling for obvious tricks of the sorceress (?).
As if she had noticed the subject of his prolonged gaze, she opened her dress at the neck and it fell and fell until it was caught by her hips. He gaped stupidly at the display, unable to comprehend what was happening. His brain seemed to process her words seconds later. Snapping out of his confused state of mind, Owen shoved himself to his feet. It wasn’t until he had rose to his full height standing over her that Owen realized just how short she was.
“I did not summon anyone.” He argued folding his own arms over his chest mirroring her earlier posture. He stared down at her icily determined now to maintain his dignity in the face of a half-exposed woman who he was now convinced was trying to put him under some kind of spell. He would have to remember to chew out his father for her presence. Clearly Darcy was to blame here. “Explain your unauthorized presence in my father’s office, or I will be forced to detain you for trespassing.”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 11-04-2017
The demoness was confused by his reaction. She took her hands off of him, creating a small space between their bodies. Her brow furrowed as she blinked up at him slowly. She didn’t bother to cover herself, only hummed thoughtfully. Yellow eyes skirted away from him, bouncing around the room before returning to his face. “You did,” she returned, sharply. Her arm thrust outwards to her side and she pointed a finger at the open box on the floor. “I can only leave the box when summoned.” Her hand dropped to slap against her thigh, before her shoulders raised in a shrug. “I see no one else here. So, it must have-"
The demon gaped at him. “Detain?” she repeated, voice pitching higher. None of her other summonings had ever gone like this before. Why did he seem confused? Why was she not already bent over a desk or on the floor?
Could he have…
No.
He certainly could not have summoned her by accident.
“You do not wish to make a pact with me?” The disapproving curl of her lips revealed sharp canine teeth and nearly resembled a snarl. Her tone had the implication of being greatly offended. “What is it you wish for?” She demanded. The demon took steps closer to him, until he backed up into the chair he had occupied before. When he dropped again into a seated position it gave her the advantage. She gazed down her nose at him, as sizing him up. “No matter.” Bundling gauzy lengths of skirt into her hand, she lifted the upwards over her thighs, keeping them out of her way as she straddled his lap. If she was at all threatened by his display she didn’t show it. “Regardless, of intent you have summoned me. You have no choice but to make a pact.”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 11-14-2017
“Pact?” He asked suddenly sounding less authoritative than he had before.He found himself being backed into the chair he had left. It just happened to him. He sat back down, or was pushed down. He was fairly certain she hadn’t touched him but the heat in her eyes seemed to knock him back into the chair.
Apparently, he shouldn’t threaten a demon.
His mouth was confused half agape as she lifted her skirts upwards revealing shapely legs. He couldn’t comprehend what she could possibly be doing. Then the warmth of her body met the tops of his legs as she sank comfortably onto his lap. His hands instinctively went to her waist to steady her. Not that she needed steadying. She seemed rather confident with her balance.
He would be a liar if he said he didn’t like the way she felt. The way she looked.
But he didn’t like the tone of voice she took with him.
Not one bit.
His hands tightened on her waist. Owen rose from the chair simultaneously bringing the demon up with him. He gruffly set her on her feet. He wasn’t gentle in the way he turned her around and gathered both of her hands behind her back in one of his. His belt jingled as it was loosened one-handedly. The sounds might have implied a certain conclusion to this interaction but that wasn’t presently on his agenda.
Owen wound the belt around her forearms and wrists expertly binding her hands behind her back without much care for her comfort. He turned her around again and shoved her down into the chair he had previously occupied. He tried not to notice the appealing way her breasts bounced when he pushed her down.
Arms crossed over his chest as he stood over her. He had warned her of detainment after all.
“By my authority as the Covenant of Allied Forces General I have detained you as I have deemed you to be an imminent security risk. But I’m -” his eyes glanced to her still bare chest which he seemed to just have been reminded of yet again. Her arms pinched back against her spine seemed to push her breasts at him. He forced an icy gaze to her face.
“-offering you the chance to explain yourself.”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 11-16-2017
The demon was encouraged by the hands he settled on her figure. She grinned and shifted against him, a roll of her hips that teased. With her skirts bunched high it was only his clothing that separated their bodies. Her hands went to either side of his neck, and she cocked her head cutely as if she might kiss him, again, encouraged by his tightening grip. But then he moved. With a squeak of surprise she locked her arms around his neck, to keep from being completely thrown off of him and onto the floor. She clung, bare chest pressed against the rough fabric of his uniform, until he practically tugged her off and set her upright and standing on her own. “Oh,” she intoned when he turned her around. She heard his belt loosen. “You could have just told me you wanted to play rough,” she purred this complaint at him as he bound the leather to her wrists. She was smirking again when he turned her around. Dark locks tumbled over her shoulders and she knew just how appealing she looked with her arms pinned in a way that her breasts looked like an offering to him.
Yet, he pushed her down. She all but fell into the chair and frowned up at him. She wasn’t having fun anymore. Why was he being so difficult when she was literally throwing herself at him. “I have explained myself,” she snapped. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she glared right back up at him. “You summoned me,” she repeated, again. “And now you have to make a pact.” Suddenly, her brows lifted, and her lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of understanding. As if she had just caught onto what was happening. Yellow eyes flickered up and down over his looming form.
“Are we roleplaying?”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 11-17-2017
Owen had written off her earlier suggestive commentary about rough-play as tough-talk from an evil demoness trying to entice him into...something. He wasn’t quite sure yet what her motives were. All his life his mother had warned him against evil spirits and negative energy, inoculating him with charms, herbs, and prayers. Such practice had probably imbued in the young general a not necessarily unwarranted suspicion against non-human entities.He couldn’t ignore, however, the question as to roleplaying.
His arms unfolded and flared out with frustration and confusion. “What!” His voice pitched higher as his eyes narrowed creasing at the edges. “No!”
Owen stalked in front of her and bent over placing a hand on either arm of the chair she occupied. “I’m interrogating you.” He stated his purpose from this menacing position.
“I didn’t summon you. And I don’t make pacts with demons.” Something occurred to him and his head jerked to the side as if he were trying to peer behind him. He pushed off the chair and crossed the room to where that curious box had fallen to the floor.
It was now open.
He picked it up and turned back to her.
“Did you come out of this box?” He asked, stupidly.
Of course she had. And he had been the one who let her out.
Not that he would own up to it, but the realization was dawning on him as he inspected the magical artifact running his fingertips over the patterns and lacquered finish.
Fear coursed through him. What had he let out?
"Here. Just take it and you can be on your way." He offered thrusting the box towards her even though she was in no position to take it from him.
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 01-05-2018
She wasn’t having fun anymore. Not that she usually had fun, but she always hoped her new master would be better than the last. This one seemed...dumb. It could just be his confusion that was making him seem that way, but confused wasn’t fun either. Still, the demon forged onward, hoping he would catch up to the situation and they could carry on as normal. He hovered over her and she smiled coyly. Tilting her head just so, she leaned forward. “I’ve never been interrogated like this before,” she murmured, just before she tried to kiss him. However, he was gone again, stalking over to the box he had left on the floor and she huffed in irritation. This was not the usual position she found herself in while topless.
The grumpy general appeared as if he was piecing things together. Finally. Just like that she was grinning again, even though the box unnerved her. “I did,” she confirmed, helping him along. “I remain in the box until summoned and then my new master binds himself to me, and-” She had been speaking very quickly. She was boring of repeating herself, but she had hoped this time he would follow long. He shoved the box in her direction. She stared at it. She looked up at him. Then down at the box. She sat further back in the chair as if she trying to get away from it. It trapped her bound hands against her back, lifting her shoulders to a painful angle, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. “I can’t.”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 01-06-2018
There was a delayed realization that she had tried to kiss him - or he was pretty sure she had - when he had been towering over her. She had, like, reached for him. With her mouth. She was trying to explain this whole ordeal to him but he was too distracted trying to figure out whether she had seriously tried to kiss him. She refused the box when he offered it to her, claiming she couldn’t just take it. “Oh stop being cheeky! You know what I’m saying!”
He raised his voice to her thinking she was sassing him about the bindings on her hands. Thinking that she was being literal in that she couldn’t take the box.
The door to the office swung open so hard that it bounced off the wall. Ishara had felt the wall of a presence suddenly enter her home and when she figured out why she had felt it, she had rushed to her husband’s office. Her eyes frantically scanned the scene. A topless demon in a chair. Owen holding the enchanted box in his hands.
Ishara’s hand briefly passed over her face and she sighed. “Well this reminiscent of that time I walked in on you and that one guy.” She snapped her fingers. “What was his name? Oh never mind.” “Mom.” Owen growled, flushing with embarrassment. Partly at what she had said but mostly because he realized the whole scene looked much more risque than what was actually occurring.
“I know you're sexually adventurous, but did it have to be your father’s office, Owen? For goddess sake, have some respect.”
“That’s not what’s happening here, mother.”
The redhead crossed her arms under her breasts and humphed loudly in challenge to her son’s claims.
“This witch just -” he set the box down on the desk and waved his hands in front of him, “-materialized out of smoke. I'm - just -interrogating her.”
"Interrogating her? With her tits out!" Ishara covered her eyes yet again, this time ashamed of her son’s ignorance. A little laugh exploded out of her. It was high pitched and almost cruel sounding. “And to think all those precious hours I spent trying to teach you demonology.” She sighed. “This, darling, is not a witch. She’s a pact demon.”
“That’s what I meant!” He was sounding increasingly flustered.
“I see you found the box.” His mother said as she moved into the room. “I suppose you also failed to notice the way the gems are arranged on the top there. You’d know it was a spell that bound a demon, sweetie. And you wouldn't have fiddled with it.”
“I didn’t -”
Owen shut up when Ishara put her index finger against her son’s lips. “Hush.” She turned on the demoness still sitting in the chair and sized her up. “So this is what the goddess sent me.” Ishara sounded a bit disappointed. She gestured at the demon with both hands before they slapped uselessly against her thighs. "No matter." She approached the chair, She bent over, and her fingers worked to release the demon from the binding around her wrists. She tossed the belt at her son before tugging the demon’s dress back into place to cover her.
“Pretty but I don’t see how that will help anything. Have you made the pact yet?” She asked of the demon, completely ignoring her gaping son for the moment.
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 01-07-2018
The demon would have continued to argue with him if another person had not come bursting into the room. She didn’t jump, despite the force and the spontaneity to which the woman appeared, only turned her head enough to the side to observe the newcomer. For a moment, it was as if she suddenly didn’t exist. Mother and son bickered back and forth, while she remained bound and exposed where the general had left her. Red eyes bounced between them while the spoke as if keeping time with a verbal tennis match.
The demon laughed at the same time as the red head. The sultry sound was contained mostly in her throat and rumbled with genuine amusement as opposed to the mocking sound that the mother was trying to make. She perked when the woman correctly identified her as a pact demon. Nodding eagerly, she sat up straighter in the chair. She hoped that this whole situation could finally be resolved with the other woman’s help.
She sat proudly as the woman rounded on her and looked her over, but her disappointed tone was unmistakable and she deflated. A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth, and her shoulders slumped forward. While she was untied, she glared at the tall blonde man, as if all of this was his fault. She fidgeted with her dress and rolled the kinks out of her shoulders while the red head basically compared her to a glass paperweight. Pretty. But useless. She continued to frown.
“No. He refuses to bond with me,” she explained, dropping her hands into her lap. “I thought he was just stupid. I didn’t realize he liked men.”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 01-07-2018
Ishara’s laugh came out like a bursting when the saucy demon made conclusions as to her son’s sexual preferences. In the background to his mother’s apparently hysterical outburst, Owen’s jaw fell open in offense. “He was pretty. I like pretty people. That’s my...type.” Ishara pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. She held her hand out to hush her son. “Darling. Please.” She waited in that pose until silence fell over the room. She then smoothed the skirt of her dress and rounded her husband’s desk. Ishara took time to pull the chair out from the desk and then sank into it as regally as she could manage.
“Sit.” She ordered Owen to the empty chair next to the demon. He hesitated for a second, but a sharp look by his mother made him drop into the chair. He folded his arms over his chest and waited.
“Now, Owen, sweetie, you summoned a pact demon.” She raised her index finger to hush him when he opened his mouth to protest. “Ah! Shh! It may have been inadvertent, but you summoned her nonetheless. Darling,” she turned her attention to the demoness. “What shall we call you? My name is Ishara, I know it may come as a shock, but I am the mother of this man seated next to you. His name is Owen. Please excuse his attitude. We’ll just do the best we can with it, hm?”
She waited a moment for all to get acquainted and then folded her hands together neatly on top of her husband's desk. She seemed to be enjoying giving a lecture to them both from behind the stately polished desk. Owen rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.
“There. Now we’re all acquainted. Let’s have a pleasant discussion about what we are to do. Well, what you,” she pointed at her son, “are to do.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You summoned this pact demon and now you must make a pact with her.”
“I don’t even know what that means!” He complained.
Ishara’s open hand gestured at the demon. “Care to fill him in?”
RE: Boxed [Closed] - megs - 01-07-2018
His response only deepened her frown. If that were possible. The expression was accentuated by the markings, like fine scars, that traveled upwards on her cheeks from the corners of her mouth. “So, you don’t find me pretty, then?” She inquired, determined to get to the bottom of his hesitation. One would think that even upon accidentally summoning a pact demon, the unwitting would be eager to have one in their control. A quiet fell between them. The redhead was suddenly in charge of the room. The command she had over her son was obvious, but she didn’t know why she was complacent to follow her orders. She glanced at the man as he took the seat next to her, before turning her attention to the mother. Who looked very authoritative behind the ornate desk.
“Julianna,” she chimed when prompted. That sweet smile of her returned as they made introductions. Looking all the while like an innocent maiden come calling on a handsome general and not a demon sent personally from the goddess of discord.
Mother and son spoke some more, and Julianna waited patiently. She beamed when the lecture was more or less turned over to her. She did enjoy the participation. “In order for the pact to be complete, you and I must have intercourse to form a bond.” She explained this easily, as if it were perfectly reasonable for her to have been expecting him to have sex with her this entire time.
RE: Boxed [Closed] - saronym - 01-07-2018
“You - you look fine!” Owen said from between his teeth to the demon who seemed offended that he hadn’t pounced on her the moment he saw her. He couldn’t quite figure out why it mattered who or what he found pretty or who he preferred to fuck. Ishara smiled when the demoness named herself. “Julianna. That’s very pretty.” She might have sounded a bit patronizing in the way she complimented the name. She was a bit displeased that the name didn’t tell her anything about the demon.
Owen choked on his own breath when the information finally came out that he had to fuck the demon to make the pact. Everything clicked into place. While he might have enjoyed having a sexy demon with nice breasts on literally any other occasion, the awkwardness of the present situation didn’t bode well for his enthusiasm for the task.
“I’m sorry - what. No. Just no.” His hand made a slice in the air as if to cut the conversation off there. “I told her to just get back in her box and go on her merry way.” He explained to his mother.
“It’s not that simple, Owen.”
“Then you put her back or send her away.”
“I don’t have that kind of power, darling. Binding demons? Banishing demons? No, I can't do any of that. You’ll have to make the pact.”
“I’m not doing it.”
“You will.”
“Or else what?”
“If you don’t make the pact, she will probably kill us all. She requires the bond to remain in her present form. You don’t want to encounter her unbound form.”
“She’s not bound to anybody now.”
“She’s in a kind of limbo, darling. You summoned her and now you have some time to complete the bond. Do I have any of this wrong?” Ishara put a halt to her ping ponging arguing with her son to turn conversation back to Julianna who waited patiently for her turn to speak. “Do you have anything else to add?”