Kayen and Ki
Fae were not conceived as humans were, but rather, they were created. Crafted within the Dreaming, born of the Lae lines where the emotional cloud of humanity's current progress drifted, their fledglings were carved from this recycled energy. The Dreaming was a finite resource, and when the quota had been met, new Fae were not permitted to be created. Elders often succumbed to their younger peers wishes for progeny, and when they expired, they were reabsorbed into the stream of existence within the realm. Here was where the first Fae were molded, and here would be where the last Fae would slip away to with their final breath.
Some Fae would come in pairs to ensure equal traits and clan gifts were passed to their children, but the act usually involved one individual in charge of their own legacy, and their lineage would rely solely on their personal methods of imbuement. Every Fae was different. There was no way to make a complete copy of an existing Fae, though the attempts had been made. Some wished only for clones of themselves, thinking it would prolong their own lives if they leaked enough of their personalities into the vessel. Others wanted what they sought to be theirs, so they made partners and fledglings for the purpose of companionship. Mostly, it was done in hopes of creating someone capable of surpassing their glory within the lineage. If their name was known, so too would their creators.
Kayen Vereaux had already 'fathered' several Fae over his long life. Some of these children knew of his involvement in their birth, but others knew as little as possible for posterity sake. His name wasn't one the council enjoyed hearing during meetings, but when the formal roll call was issued and his titles were presented for the whole of the clan leaders, it made him smile, though the enjoyment didn't reach his eyes. Nothing seemed to breach those cold, circling icicles. His position had garnered him privileges no one agreed he deserved, one of which is the right of progeny towards his legacy. Even after the sculpted youths preceding this moment, he still had space to work - and he planned to do a better job this time around.
Cara was no longer a factor. Other women of the Englos had never held the same fire in their souls as the Vereaux, but they were too loud and opinionated. Too boisterous and too presumptuous. Too loose and too chipper. Kayen sought the chill of winter, and within it, a like-minded heir. Or, this time around, Heiress.
His incorporeal form was a hideous ebony tarnished shade that glided through the umbra almost unseen. The light he once boasted having had long since extinguished, and his burned husk of an aura resembled the veins of a bloated corpse. Kayen's true form frightened even the most seasoned scholars of the Fae, and for good reason. It was a unique appearance earned from the trials, toil, and strife of having his wings bound as punishment. A sick and twisted remedy to shift the attention of his after-hours activities. Usually, his grudges were dealt with in a timely manner without restraint, but as Lucky Vereaux lived and breathed within the fleshlands, he had a debt to pay. His vengeance would come on the wailing gale of a terrible storm, one that stirred beneath the present calm within their clan.
Even as a shade, he could appreciate the idea. A mental smile earned for the trip through dimensions.
Arrival in the Dreaming was acknowledged by wraith sentries. They swayed as flickering remnants of life, trapped between this realm and the Hedge - a place no one wished to end up banished to. Mortals toyed in the abyss for powers beyond their understanding, but the Fae knew their deepest fears remain locked within the surrounding barrier barring non-Fae from their territorial claims to the umbra. Not even Kayen took the threats lightly, though he had seen them with his own eyes, and knew every whispered gossip and embellishment was close to the truth. The Hedge was what one made of it. Twisted minds like his were met with equally twisted apparitions, and the torment was created by the expectations of the victim.
The ancients of the Fae had planned for his ilk, knowing bad apples were subdued best with explicit harshness.
Making his intentions obvious, there was no incident between the parties; his journey shot him directly through the smoky shadow miasma to a vacant opalescent expanse of space. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing. Just milky air and a heavy dusting of some material that shimmered. His fingers rubbed eagerly against the essence coating the air, knowing he had been cast into a submerged state within it's keep. This was a tank of energy, not just an abandoned pocket dimension as most would assume. He would likely have thought the same had he not spent time in this zone before. Slowly, with hands outstretched, he collected the substance in his hands and proceeded to clobber together a rough outline.
Kayen didn't keep track of time here because it didn't exist. What could have been thousands of years on Earth for humanity seemed like a few long hours? His details were refined, and the body was given curves and swells that appealed to his narcissistic nature, keeping his skin tone and dark hair, but also possessing ample breasts and shapely hips. As the figure looked more and more as intended, he drew close and focused on the small details. Every starting follicle and every delicate fold, creases and wrinkles, teeth and nails. These were things that could be ignored if you were in a hurry, but he felt no rush to finish and did everything he could think of doing to ensure this one would be perfect. He would have perfection. This time, or the times following. Eventually, it would happen and his lineage would thrive.
As he finished, the last portion of the awakening was completed by him resting a large palm over the mound of one perfect breast. At the heart, he gave her life, or whatever sort of charge a new Fae would need to rekindle their own life energy. As mentioned, all Fae were just recycled from the pool of their predecessors, and this one was no different. His other arm wrapped around her waist so when she awoke new and alive to the existence he had birthed her into, she wouldn't be startled. For all his flaws, he did have the levels of presence to keep his companions completely sedated through their play dates. In this case, it simply softened the blow of having a rush of knowledge and emotional attachment hit her like a mach truck. After all, she now possessed thousands of years of his history.
That was the true testament to the lineage. Nothing was forgotten so long as there was hope for one's fledgling. The more an elder sired, the better off their history was in terms of not being forgotten. Kayen had always assumed he would be buried beneath the Goliath-like inconvenience the Vereaux had for a Matriarch, but as sometimes was the case, he was wrong.
New lids fluttered open very slowly, mouth parting to form words through a set of vocal cords her elder had lovingly included in her package, "I am... Awake. I was awoken and I am..."
"Did the Dreaming whisper you awake?" He was very possessive in how he cradled the smaller being, his seven and a half feet of height making his shade seem colossal. "I did what I could to make you perfect, and as it shows, you are a vision." He was kissing her cheeks and caressing her breast in a kneading motion, the digits attentive as they tweaked and plucked at her hardening nipple. The peak stretched under his attention, taut with every tug, and the female released a soft whine to indicate discomfort. "Oh yes, it seems you feel just fine. I would say, or boast, or simply declare - you are the most beautiful of my progeny."
His fledgling was still trying to find her baring in his embrace, a bit clumsy and a bit slow, but doing better than outsiders would expect of a newly born individual. Her mind was a spiraling relay that worked overtime to catch her up on who he was, who she was, and where they were currently. These were instinctive features to the Fae, ancestral memories that never really seemed to fade from the patterns of their lives. Every new Fae was gifted with a sense of being; what they did with this gift was entirely up to them.
"Kayen..."
Pleased by hearing his name from her throat, his hand moved up to touch the skin of her neck, thumb and forefinger making a u-shape that seemed comfortable resting near her clavicle. "You are trying to ask a question, and I am eager to hear what you have queries of, but you know as well as I do there is a list of things we need to take care of before any more niceties can occur." The grip on her throat tightened ever so slightly as he added through his tensing jaw, "There is a contract we must make. For your sake, for my sake... This is just the sort of life we are all destined to live. Fucked from the day we are born."
His tasteless laughter followed the thought. "Now pledge this to me, my newly christened Ki, who was blessed to be my greatest accomplishment. Promise your loyalty so this contract can be valid. You will always be loyal to the house, clan, and above all others, me." Idly, his hips jerked against hers in a pleading, rough grind. "Will you agree to my terms? I promise you only the best I can offer. What is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine..." He felt her tense as she was left to stand unaided so his other hand could settle between her thighs. There was a warmth he remembered from countless nights before this one, but he never truly satiated his thirst. Even if she was a female version of Kayen, he was impossibly aroused by her presence.
The vanity it took to see one's self in another was truly astonishing, but more was it remarkable that he could somehow justify her appearance as a dedication to his own well-received personage. After all, there were no unattractive Vereaux. They simply wouldn't survive in a clan so beauty oriented. Waiting for her to speak wasn't too much of a chore and it gave the deviant time to stroke one broad finger over her clit in lazy circles. Her reactions were precious, almost too innocent to be something he created, but the writhing of her body in slow undulations against his was proof enough she came by his libido honestly.
"A-and..." The female began through a weak series of panting breaths, meeting his gaze with a tilt of her head, "I am Ki?"
"For now, yes. My Ki, with your taste on my lips and your voice in my ears." He purred sinfully, absently parting her thighs to give his now throbbing member room to bob desperately against her lower lips. The shaft ran thick and pulsing against her slickness, and he practically hissed his demands to clarify the urgency. "But you shouldn't make me wait. If I get excited, I get rough, and I can't guarantee you will get to keep that pretty face of yours if that happens." Even if he had a slight lilt to his tone, Ki would know he was deadly serious.
So her chin nodded a brief agreement while she continued trying to piece together the words for her answer. "I accept. I just... I don't... This... I am... loss... Words are wrong. Yes, accept-"
Kayen didn't wait to hear any more of what she had to say because, at this moment, his cock was more important than her acclimation to life. Forcing the head beyond her pretty pink lower lips, the massive girth drove itself forward with a bucking of his hips. Ki screamed and it echoed through the heavenly dreamscape they both continued to occupy, heard by no one but the sadistic bastard she technically knew to be her father, and his only response was to groan low and deep in his chest. He made her fit his cock all the way to the base, completely reckless with her body in the way he went about his penetrations. his lips kissed hers, sealed themselves over her airway so she couldn't cry, and he was once more possessive of her hips as they were jackhammered time and time again.
They fucked until she was exhausted from the actions, leaving Kayen to scoop her nude figure up and sling it over his shoulder. They very well couldn't stay in the Dreaming in the state they were in, but he did have somewhere in mind to keep her safe, where attention would be at a bare minimum. It wasn't in his best interests to have her tell this story to the other Vereaux (though his deeds of similar nature were widely known throughout not just their clan, but all seven clans), so he added offhandedly while shifting back into a less tangible shadow of himself, "Let's keep this a secret between you and me, or you might make your siblings jealous. If they knew you were my favorite, they would grow envious and wish to do you harm. I could never allow such a misdeed."
Ki managed a nod, hanging limply where he had collected her for carrying. Whatever Kayen asked was well within her spectrum of desires, and as he worded it, she found herself agreeing with the logic. Yes, because she was his favorite... Always.
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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