Never once had the female High Elf genuinely complained about her partner's behavior in concern with possessiveness. The two seemed entirely enthralled with one another, and through their evenings of tantric exploration and forbidden sin, one would be safe presuming the pair had found their place within the presence of their counterpart. So they would be then, so shall they remain until the seas dried and the skies were nothing more than ash upon a charred and barren landscape. There was death in the cards- a choked world stifled while riding the back winds of their plans. Of Pfifer's plans specifically. Neither would make it out unscathed, but selfishly, the woman wished their duo to coast through the trials mostly intact. If by some demonic grace they succeeded in this, there would be cause for celebration. Until then, the whole ordeal with the Inquisition left an awful taste in her mouth.
The taste of defeat. The taste of lost time. The taste of silent judgement and inevitable disappointment.
Slinking through the dewy grass on all fours, she moved only to adjust the applications set into play. For the ritual, and for their safety, and in light of Leon's injuries, for good luck. Bones and bark carved effigies, scrawled with words in a tongue abandoned. Promises for those far too impetuous, and keen to suck down knowledge any way it would be had. Those like Pfifer, with their smirking lips and their sashaying hips, and diminished, their need to succeed so not to fall victim to the comforts of the complacent. This was Pfifer's life- all tricks and traps and secret rituals performed to ward the path least chosen. To protect what she owned. With Leon, there was going to be more than simple problems with minor solutions. There was emotional attachment she hadn't planned to carry, but extra weight wouldn't deter her from the ultimate goals. No. If anything, this was a test. A passable, reasonable test that would do little but strengthen her skills.
Honed, she was ready. Her body pulsed with energy while rough hands dragged her back through the cold of the ground. Testily, her digits gripped at blades of grass while her eyes seemed to spark static currents through the surrounding thicket. Alight with a presence unlike her own. The individual in Pfifer ceased to be; replaced by the collective. As words began to stream through her parted lips, the woman's features bowed slightly, directed towards the patch of earth harboring her body. Incantations were made, hissed at times, her attention only half captive to the feeling of the other Elf removing his clothing. Shed layers discarded, exposed skin tantalizing and near... All the while, they seemed to dance a fine line between Telara and Tartarus. The circumference of the fire didn't hide her flaring aura, nor did it seem interested in vacuuming inwards towards their joining figures. Instead, it rose to lap heated waves against Leon's barrier, perhaps testing the magic containing it's fury.
With her ass bared, and Leon moving in between her thighs, Pfifer murmured a very soft collection of praise. Spit slick fingers caressed her slit, saliva mingling with the trail of excitement she exuded for the other mage. How wet she was for him, and oh, how wanton she could be as she lowered shapely hips ever so slightly when long fingers dipped between her folds enough to ignite that ghost of desire bound to haunt their couple. It wasn't that he touched her, but how he did this, with hands graceful and bold; with fingers sharp and sincere and brutal. His intellect made him delectable to the woman, but his dominance solidified her appreciation for Leon. Since they first met, Pfifer had longed for no other, and even when he crawled back to her on his belly like a beheaded serpent from the garden of legend, she wouldn't dismiss him. This one wasn't an oath breaker- Pacts were kept, and promises were cemented in the bedrock of her understandably shaky foundation.
Pfifer's word was her remaining notions of civility and order. Of a life she had otherwise forsaken without a second thought.
"ܐܣܝܐ
ܙܘܘܓ
ܣܗܕܐ ܚܢܢ ܫܠܡ "
Having not run, this was fate, and in this vein of whimsical thought, she almost lost her attention to distant philosophies. Almost. Then there was guidance, her legs further parted while her companion edged himself inwards. A body coiled, his cock was engulfed in kneading undulations that gave no pause, nor held any mercy. She was expanded, her inner walls forming around the girth of his sex like there was no other expectation to future encounters. Only he fit, and she would have no sub par replacement playing surrogate to the real thing. Leon earned a moan, low and long, between her feverish whispers; in tandem with quenched ligature enveloping his shaft. All the way to the base she rode, stopped only by her ass cheeks coming to spread at the barest wisps of pubis and pelvic warmth. The magic would anchor there, an ethereal channel forgettable in lieu of their carnal decadence. An after thought.
In this process, Leon would feel patches shifting; skin rekindled at damaged nerve endings. Regeneration, Regrowth. Slow, creeping energy harnessed through the smaller physique as it fed torrents of spiritual flux to the ex-Inquisitor. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it was comforting in the way it numbed the mind and slowed the reactions of the two in their hidden glade- but it was natural. A sharing of essence through an already forged channel- their soul streams were better described as a multi-lane highway. Pfifer would bring him to climax eventually, but until doing so, they were traveling this path together. As they were meant to be, despite all that had and would transpire. In the greatest unknowns, at least there was this for them to cling to. To protect and to cherish. However dark and dismal it may seem from the outside, this was home.
"ܗܘܿܒܵܐ
ܙܘܓ
ܣܗܕܐ ܢܢ ܫܠܡ"
And so she chanted under her breath, through a distinct focal point of the forceful figure straddling her rear, with both hands pulling at turf and scorched greenery. The heat rose and funneled through the topmost portion of the barrier, but there was no question of their encompassing location, given how quickly her skin wore a sheen of sweat. Still, the mage wasn't at all thrown off. If honest about the conditions, Pfifer would admit finding her hungering partner's thrusts to be almost too good for any claims of assistance to be made. What she helped him do was a task neither argued necessity over, yet both claimed was priority. His greed and his vanity, her lust and her craven desires- these were the first and foremost matters in need of attending to. Whether their hedonism was inherent to their oath or not, it didn't matter. All that mattered then was the sensation of flesh overtaking flesh. Surmounting savagery. Pfifer quivered against Leon's base in their semblance of pause, waiting.
How cruel he was to make her wait, but she was a patient woman in this regard. A trained and eager woman, among other things. His woman. His property. Captured, kept, and never free- 'til death do they part.
The taste of defeat. The taste of lost time. The taste of silent judgement and inevitable disappointment.
Slinking through the dewy grass on all fours, she moved only to adjust the applications set into play. For the ritual, and for their safety, and in light of Leon's injuries, for good luck. Bones and bark carved effigies, scrawled with words in a tongue abandoned. Promises for those far too impetuous, and keen to suck down knowledge any way it would be had. Those like Pfifer, with their smirking lips and their sashaying hips, and diminished, their need to succeed so not to fall victim to the comforts of the complacent. This was Pfifer's life- all tricks and traps and secret rituals performed to ward the path least chosen. To protect what she owned. With Leon, there was going to be more than simple problems with minor solutions. There was emotional attachment she hadn't planned to carry, but extra weight wouldn't deter her from the ultimate goals. No. If anything, this was a test. A passable, reasonable test that would do little but strengthen her skills.
Honed, she was ready. Her body pulsed with energy while rough hands dragged her back through the cold of the ground. Testily, her digits gripped at blades of grass while her eyes seemed to spark static currents through the surrounding thicket. Alight with a presence unlike her own. The individual in Pfifer ceased to be; replaced by the collective. As words began to stream through her parted lips, the woman's features bowed slightly, directed towards the patch of earth harboring her body. Incantations were made, hissed at times, her attention only half captive to the feeling of the other Elf removing his clothing. Shed layers discarded, exposed skin tantalizing and near... All the while, they seemed to dance a fine line between Telara and Tartarus. The circumference of the fire didn't hide her flaring aura, nor did it seem interested in vacuuming inwards towards their joining figures. Instead, it rose to lap heated waves against Leon's barrier, perhaps testing the magic containing it's fury.
With her ass bared, and Leon moving in between her thighs, Pfifer murmured a very soft collection of praise. Spit slick fingers caressed her slit, saliva mingling with the trail of excitement she exuded for the other mage. How wet she was for him, and oh, how wanton she could be as she lowered shapely hips ever so slightly when long fingers dipped between her folds enough to ignite that ghost of desire bound to haunt their couple. It wasn't that he touched her, but how he did this, with hands graceful and bold; with fingers sharp and sincere and brutal. His intellect made him delectable to the woman, but his dominance solidified her appreciation for Leon. Since they first met, Pfifer had longed for no other, and even when he crawled back to her on his belly like a beheaded serpent from the garden of legend, she wouldn't dismiss him. This one wasn't an oath breaker- Pacts were kept, and promises were cemented in the bedrock of her understandably shaky foundation.
Pfifer's word was her remaining notions of civility and order. Of a life she had otherwise forsaken without a second thought.
"ܐܣܝܐ
ܙܘܘܓ
ܣܗܕܐ ܚܢܢ ܫܠܡ "
Having not run, this was fate, and in this vein of whimsical thought, she almost lost her attention to distant philosophies. Almost. Then there was guidance, her legs further parted while her companion edged himself inwards. A body coiled, his cock was engulfed in kneading undulations that gave no pause, nor held any mercy. She was expanded, her inner walls forming around the girth of his sex like there was no other expectation to future encounters. Only he fit, and she would have no sub par replacement playing surrogate to the real thing. Leon earned a moan, low and long, between her feverish whispers; in tandem with quenched ligature enveloping his shaft. All the way to the base she rode, stopped only by her ass cheeks coming to spread at the barest wisps of pubis and pelvic warmth. The magic would anchor there, an ethereal channel forgettable in lieu of their carnal decadence. An after thought.
In this process, Leon would feel patches shifting; skin rekindled at damaged nerve endings. Regeneration, Regrowth. Slow, creeping energy harnessed through the smaller physique as it fed torrents of spiritual flux to the ex-Inquisitor. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it was comforting in the way it numbed the mind and slowed the reactions of the two in their hidden glade- but it was natural. A sharing of essence through an already forged channel- their soul streams were better described as a multi-lane highway. Pfifer would bring him to climax eventually, but until doing so, they were traveling this path together. As they were meant to be, despite all that had and would transpire. In the greatest unknowns, at least there was this for them to cling to. To protect and to cherish. However dark and dismal it may seem from the outside, this was home.
"ܗܘܿܒܵܐ
ܙܘܓ
ܣܗܕܐ ܢܢ ܫܠܡ"
And so she chanted under her breath, through a distinct focal point of the forceful figure straddling her rear, with both hands pulling at turf and scorched greenery. The heat rose and funneled through the topmost portion of the barrier, but there was no question of their encompassing location, given how quickly her skin wore a sheen of sweat. Still, the mage wasn't at all thrown off. If honest about the conditions, Pfifer would admit finding her hungering partner's thrusts to be almost too good for any claims of assistance to be made. What she helped him do was a task neither argued necessity over, yet both claimed was priority. His greed and his vanity, her lust and her craven desires- these were the first and foremost matters in need of attending to. Whether their hedonism was inherent to their oath or not, it didn't matter. All that mattered then was the sensation of flesh overtaking flesh. Surmounting savagery. Pfifer quivered against Leon's base in their semblance of pause, waiting.
How cruel he was to make her wait, but she was a patient woman in this regard. A trained and eager woman, among other things. His woman. His property. Captured, kept, and never free- 'til death do they part.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 05-03-2015, 03:20 PM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 02:48 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 02:52 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 02:55 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 02:58 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 03:01 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 03:04 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 03:06 AM
Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 09-19-2015, 03:09 AM
RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 10-13-2015, 06:25 PM
RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 01-05-2016, 04:57 AM
RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 06-01-2016, 07:21 AM