In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: BlackStone on 29-11-2014, 06:15:35</h2>
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				Title: <strong>In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>29-11-2014, 06:15:35</strong>
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				It was the Longest Night, the most celebrated night in all of Terre d'Ange, a tradition that spanned more than a thousand years of history.&nbsp; &nbsp;The night where winter was honored, yet the hope and promise of life and spring to come.&nbsp; &nbsp;In a culture that was renowned for its beauty and grace, on no night was that more apparent than this night.&nbsp; &nbsp; All other fetes compared to this night were tame garden parties and gathering.&nbsp; &nbsp; Of all of the celebrations happening this night, among the two largest and most acclaimed were the Night Court and Blooming Flowers, and the fete hosted by House Courcel, the House Royal, at the Royal Palais.&nbsp; &nbsp;While not as exclusive as the fete in the Night Court, an invitation to the Palais Longest Night Celebration was nothing to snob or lift one's nose at.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was a chance to socialize with among the most powerful nobles in the realm, many whom spend the winter season in the City of Elua.<br><br>Among the nobles present was Bastion Edward de la Courcel, Prince of the Blood, third in the line to the crown.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unlike his elder sister and brother, Bastion had raven black hair, a gift from his mother, Alexia Morhban de la Courcel.&nbsp; He still had the tell tail long swan like neck of the Courcel bloodline, and the violet eyes that have been a long ago gift of the l'Envers line when Isabel l'Envers married Prince Roland, the Dauphine at the time well over a hundred and twenty-five years ago.&nbsp; &nbsp; Because of his looks, Bastion had earned the nickname at court as the Ebon Swan.&nbsp; <br><br>This night Bastion was attired as a rakish pirate, complete with an eye patch.&nbsp; &nbsp;Despite it being winter, Bastion was wearing a jacket that left his chest bared save for a few crossing ties that cut into his skin.&nbsp; The jacket does not hide the long scar that marred his perfect beauty.&nbsp; &nbsp;The scar started underneath the upper part of his jacket about his left shoulder and traveled down the full length of his torso, over his chest and sternum, then over his abdomen to his right hip.&nbsp; &nbsp;Despite the vividness of the scar, it did not make Bastion unattractive or ugly by any stretch, and some ladies at court had said it stark contrast that made his beauty stand out.<br><br>Despite that, of late Bastion had not displayed much interest in the noblewomen at court.&nbsp; &nbsp; Some rumors blame it upon a disastrous courtship with Desire Shahrizai, the heir to House Shahrizai.&nbsp; &nbsp;Their relationship ended in bad blood, at least between Bastion and House Shahrizai.&nbsp; &nbsp;It of late had spread so that Bastion did not care for any woman at court.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was gossip among the palis that Bastion had to be forced to attend by his sister, Alessandra, the Queen. <br><br>Bastion could never refuse his sister when she asked something of him, so here he was, doing hos best not to scowl at anyone approaching him.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Still, word must have spread that Bastion was not welcome to company even on this night where inhibitions and desire were their most strong as he had very few women approach him.&nbsp; For Bastion's part he was merely waiting for the midnight hour when the Winter Crone would become the Spring Maiden so he could leave, accomplishing the letter of his agreement with his sister if not the spirit.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 04:21:30</strong>
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				Looking into her mirror a soft sigh parted slightly pouted lips and her gaze was met by the steely hues of a woman she barely seemed to know these days. It was the Longest Night, her <em>first</em> Longest Night since the death (some whispered murder) of her sister, and as the new raised Duchess of Barthome, it was her duty to attend the fete held at the Royal Palace. If she hadn't had a duty to her house, she'd have remained home, curled before the fireplace in her rooms with a book and a glass of wine...but that was not to be, all because of duty.<br><br>Duty...duty ran strongly in the House of Barthome. If was duty (and another's betrayal) that had brought them the presiding Ducy in l'Agnace. Time would tell if they kept it, but it wouldn't be Sephira Barthome who lost it.<br><br>Hearing a rapping at her door, she let one last sigh part her lips before schooling her features into a semblance of quiet joy, as befitted the ball she'd now be attending, smoothed her skirts and steeled herself to face the lions den. Kalisto had been the one good at this sort of thing. Her older sister by mere minutes, she'd been proud and energetic, beautiful and kind...and devious beyond imagining. Court politics and intrigues had been right up her alley while Sephira, quieter and more introspective, had gone to the Court of Night Blooming Flowers and found her home among the adepts of Valerian. If not for her sister's death, she'd have spent tonight in Cereus House and would, most likely, have found herself twined in the arms of an adept from Mandrake as had been her usual practice until this year.<br><br>Opening the door to her room she watched as the maid curtsied and reminded her that she was expected below. Wishing the woman joy she declined being shown the way to the ball room and picked up her masque for the event. Others would be wearing elaborate costumes, but her own was simple, a silken toga in a shimmering shade of white held by a brooch at her right shoulder. The shimmering folds swooped down along her back, leaving it bare, her Marque visible to all as a statement that she felt no shame in having been a part of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers. She'd take anyone to task who dared say a word about it! Grecian sandals tied up her calves and a mask shaped like the head of an owl completed her outfit while her mane of fiery curls had been piled atop her head in an artful disarray and was held in place with a flexible, golden wire that twinkled like sparks from amidst the flames. <br><br>To look on her gently smiling face, one would never know that the serene beauty was a well of mourning or that she wished to be anywhere but there.<br><br>On entering the ballroom she cast her gaze on those around her only to find herself fighting the urge to glance toward the floor. Years of training in Valerian House was desperately hard to break but she had to keep reminding herself she was no longer an adept, she was a Duchess in her own right and, of the people surrounding her, only those of the Royal line itself outranked her. In her wake she heard small gasps and whispers at the sight of her Marque and when her lips twitched slightly on the hearing, it was with genuine amusement. Phedre no Delaunay de'Montreve may have made it acceptable, perhaps even mildly fashionable for a few short years, for a Noble to also be an Adept, but overall many of the Nobility (even those who frequented the Night Court) would still be scandalized by the idea. For the most part, it just wasn't done! As she thought on it, she began to look through the room in a different light, her gaze meeting those few she knew already, and making it a point to show the truly rare few whose company she might enjoy again, the sight of her Marque as she began to saunter through the room.<br><br>After all, an adept who bared her Marque in public was willing to take contracts and while none would be taken tonight, she fully expected she would find offers arriving come the morning.<br><br>If asked later she'd never have been able to say what small talk she made as she mingled about the room. No doubt many of the quaint, and entertaining anecdotes that adepts learned as a part of their training. She laughed and smiled until her face hurt with the falseness of it and until she'd made such a circuit through the room that she came upon the one person who looked as unhappy to be there as <em>she </em> felt. Looking on the dark Prince of the Blood, it was hard not to be impressed with the combination of traits he'd inherited from his family lines, but there were, perhaps, more rumors about him than there were going to be about her come morning...and he didn't wear a Marque.<br><br>She couldn't help but to be curious and wonder how many of them were true.<br><br>Taking two glasses of joie from a circulating servant she approached Bastion with the first smile of the evening that carried any honesty in it and actually reached the flashing warmth of her violet gaze. Even with the two glasses of sweet liqueur in her hand, she managed a deep curtsy, in a true show of grace and balance, before offering him one and asking, "How is it that with such a display of elegance and splendor arrayed before you, my Highness, that you appear so unhappy?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 05:52:22</strong>
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				It was the voice that perhaps cracked through the outer shell.&nbsp; &nbsp;Haunting and stunning music have been compared to d'Angeline voices by those not of Terre d'Ange, melody of the divine at other times.&nbsp; &nbsp;As a Prince of the Blood, Bastion had heard it all, and ha heard it compared to his own voice, though that was a feature he was doing his best to forget.&nbsp; &nbsp;Painful memories by Desire Shahrizai of course were the root of that.&nbsp; &nbsp;Still with all of those bitter and venomous memories about, a look of shock and wonder crossed his features as he turned his head towards the source of this Naamah inspired voice.&nbsp; <br><br>Violet eyes lock upon violet eyes and Bastion saw the source of this melodic voice.&nbsp; &nbsp;The simple Hellenic costume did reveal who it was he was speaking.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her costume had set her apart from the rest of the peerage that had went for layered and elaborate costumes this year.&nbsp; Her Grace Sephira de Barthome, a cadet branch of House Courcel and recently into her title.&nbsp; &nbsp;A former Courtesan of the Night Court, and while a noble born as a servant of Naamah was not as shocking and unheard of as it was in the day when the Comtesse de Montreve made her appearance at the Longest Night with her marque bared, it was still a rarity in itself.&nbsp; &nbsp;As such, she was a bit of a celebrity among the peerage, and it did make him wonder why he was speaking to him of all the willing guests this evening.<br><br>Bastion did have the good grace to accept the drink proffered to him by the Duchesse.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"I did not realize that my mood was so obvious, but then again, I am not the accomplished diplomat in my family.&nbsp; &nbsp;I suppose I find crowds make me a bit on edge, your Grace.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is also my first Longest Night in a long while that I did not hold Elua's Vigil.&nbsp; &nbsp;One does tend not to be at their best when taken out of their comfortable routine.&nbsp; &nbsp; Still I do not mean to be a sour note for you, your Grace.&nbsp; &nbsp;Joy to you."</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;He held up the glass of <em>Joie</em> to her in a the age old and honest toast given to one another on this, the Longest Night.
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 20:56:02</strong>
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				Letting just the smallest smile touch her lips when Bastion took the drink she'd offered him she listened as he spoke of his mood being obvious and brushed away his concerns with a delicate wave of her right hand, "Highness, your mood is likely not noticed by many in this room. Most are too vacuous and self-absorbed to see anything but their own pleasure for the evening, and most of the rest are so busy playing at their intrigues, and being false to those around them, that they wouldn't be likely to notice, or understand, truth right before their eyes. There is a very small minority who may see, but you're a Prince of Blood so even fewer of those would dare to comment," she added with a low chuckle that would barely reach his ears.<br><br>"As for being a diplomat, you and I, apparently, have that in common. My sister was the diplomat and quite skilled at navigating the waters of gossip and intrigue at Court. My own skills lie...elsewhere...but I would be a poor adept indeed, and likely barely able to claim an inch of my Marque, much less having it completed, if I couldn't, accurately, read the moods of those around me."<br><br>Only after he had wished her joy, and they had shared their toast, did she comment on the last of his remarks, "It is certainly much harder to be at ones best when your expectations for a circumstance, such as your usual practice for the Longest Night, are thwarted, but it <em>is</em> possible," she said, the slight smile on her lips clearly one of remembrance as some such circumstance clearly crossed her memory. "But let me ask Highness, if you prefer to spend the evening observing Elua's vigil, why are you here?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>02-12-2014, 04:41:24</strong>
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				At her question, Bastion gave a playful smirk as he toyed with the empty glass.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Because my sister the Queen is the accomplished diplomat and she managed to twist my arm in to attending.&nbsp; &nbsp;She does know how to play upon my guilt and sense of duty.&nbsp; &nbsp;She reminded me that her Champion and First Sword should be present at such functions like this and know kneeling alone in Elua's temple or in my chambers, so here I am, dazzling ladies such as yourself with my wit and charm.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps doing something wrong as my sister had assured me I would have a bevy of ladies here that would want to see me through this Longest Night."</strong><br><br>As a servant passed by, Bastion put his empty glass upon the tray and then turned his attention back to Sephira.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"And what about you, your Grace, to what honor do we owe one of the Night Courts renowned Courtesans?&nbsp; &nbsp;I had thought you would be upon at Mont Nuit at House Cereus.&nbsp; Not that those here would complain at your presence.&nbsp; Even among the flowers of the Night Court your beauty shines above them all, from the Courtesans I have seen about the Palais when they are on an assignation."</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>02-12-2014, 05:02:58</strong>
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				Returning her own glass to the same tray that Bastion had, she also offered the server a warm smile and requested a goblet of water. Simple yes, and likely one of the rarest things asked for on such a decadent night, but years of training and observance had made it second nature to her to keep her wits about her at all times. After all, it didn't do, in Valerian House, to have ones senses dulled when you played at games that could require the use of a <em>signale</em>.<br><br>"If your sister is the more accomplished diplomat, Highness, I suspect it is only from lack of practice. Your own words are quite charming and pleasant to the ear when you wish to make them so," she said, raising her goblet of water to him in a congenial toast when it arrived.<br><br>"As for my own presence, you have Court intrigue to thank for that. With my sister's recent passing, the Duchy has been left to me and thus I am here learning my duties in that regard instead of ensconced in the comforts of the only true home I've known in this life," she admitted but as she spoke her face seemed to draw blank for a moment and while she looked utterly serene, she also looked cold, where only moments before she had been both warm and animated. If he had heard any of the rumors surrounding her sister's death (and really who hadn't except perhaps some old Casseline brother ensconced in some shrine in the farthest reaches of Terre d'Ange?) it wouldn't take much to realize that cold serenity was her version of hiding how deeply she was still mourning that loss.<br><br>"Apparently, so my sister's advisers tell me, it would be ill-done for the new Duchess to attend any fete but that here at the Palace, and even more ill done for her (me) to do what I truly wished which was to remain safely hidden away in own chambers with a fire and a book," she admitted and felt a small surge of pride as the admission came out steady and collected without a trace of the hitch that kept wanting to creep into her voice.<br><br>Giving her head a small shake, she drew a deep breath before managing to plaster a fresh smile on her lips, but this one didn't quite reach her eyes, "Forgive me Highness, I don't mean to bring my own sour note into <em>your</em> evening. I bet if you let yourself be seen in the center of the room, instead of along its edges, you would find your sister, the Queen, quite ready and a bevy of ladies would likely swarm to offer you their attentions on this cold night."
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 02:30:05</strong>
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				Bastion turned his head and he looked about in the direction the Duchesse was indicating and all he could do was frown some.&nbsp; &nbsp;He honestly was not wanting to wade into that sea of sharks.&nbsp; &nbsp;Marriage into House Courcel was not a small thing, and the mothers and fathers of any available daughter out there seemed to watch him like a hawk watching a plump hare it wants to feast upon.&nbsp; &nbsp;After his disastrous relationship with Desiree Shahrizai, he did not want to be a part of any relationship with any of the nobility.<br><br>It was then that Bastion noticed his sister looking at him and she too had a slight frown upon her face.&nbsp; &nbsp;Much like the Duchesse, she had on a very brief and risque costume.&nbsp; &nbsp;She imitated the late Comtesse de Montreve and her costume was that of Mara.&nbsp; &nbsp;Like the Comtesse so long ago, the Queen had to be practically sewn into her costume, and even though she was married and with child, she had no shortage of male and female admirers about her, all practically with large eyes as they stare at the outline of her form, nipples tenting out the very thin silk of the dress, either from the cold or the attention.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>By the look in the Queen's eyes, Bastion was in for another lecture from her.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had done so before when Bastion's less than tactful nature had offended some noble or other.&nbsp; &nbsp; He was not in the mood for another one.&nbsp; &nbsp;That meant he had to dance and be seen with having a good time with someone.&nbsp; &nbsp;Who better perhaps than one that also did not wish to be there and did not want a relationship as much as him?<br><br>Bastion turned and gave a deep bow to Sephira.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Your Grace, I was wondering if perhaps you might do me the honore of giving me a dance and perhaps more?&nbsp; &nbsp;You will be doing me a kindness and perhaps send a message to the mothers and fathers out there that I am not some swan to be plucked and served for their daughters?" </strong>&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 03:19:23</strong>
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				Sephira couldn't help the small chuckle that parted her lips, or the glint of mischief that marked her gaze when she saw the displeasure that moved over Bastion's face when he looked toward the center of the room and the clusters of Noble women arrayed there. When she'd mentioned he'd likely be sought after if he let himself be seen, she hadn't considered the political ramifications to her words, seeing the look on his face, however, it was clear that <em>he had</em>. It shouldn't have been amusing, and in other circumstances it probably wouldn't have been, but as dour as her life had been lately, it felt good to know that she could still be amused. <br><br>Following his gaze, she saw it land on his sister, the Queen, and that she looked less than happy. Unsure, exactly, what protocol was when one was carrying on a discussion with the Queen's brother and she looked displeased, Sephira chose to err on the side of caution and let herself sink into as deep a curtsy as her own, spare, gown would allow as well as letting her appreciation for the Queen's costume to show on her face. She wasn't one to take women as lovers (though certainly she'd had a couple as patrons in the Night Court), but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the Queen's beauty, or the skill of her seamstress. And since she couldn't compliment her directly, from across such a distance as the ball room provided, she thought letting her, respectful, appreciation show would do such for her. <br><br>Rising once more and returning her attention to the man at her side, she laughed outright at the favor he asked of her, "For some mother's daughter, you <em>will</em> be a swan to be plucked. Luckily for you even the Nobility strive to maintain Elua's precepts to love, however, unlike in some countries where we'd, none of us, have any say in whom our parents married us off to."<br><br>Offering him her hand, to let him guide her out onto the floor, that flash of mischief flared once more across her violet gaze, "But, let us set tongues to wagging with speculation, and keep the worst of the hens at bay shall we? And perhaps if you're dancing your lovely sister won't cast such a baleful glance your way. Even from across the room she seems a formidable woman and I'd prefer that, IF, she remembers me at all, it be as the woman who got you to be social, not as one who left you in a corner by yourself."
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 04:02:57</strong>
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				At Sephira words of "formidable", Bastion gave an outright laugh as he walked out to the dance floor.&nbsp; &nbsp;The volume of the music from the orchestra playing, the low din of conversation and laughter that rose and fell like the waves of the sea, any words that passed between them will only be themselves.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Oh formidable by more than you reckon I would wager.&nbsp; &nbsp;Blood does tell, and her grandmother was a Dowayne of Mandrake before she married.&nbsp; &nbsp;My sister likes to play, but her husband will not be the Valerian to her Mandrake, but she is allowed to take play toys.&nbsp; &nbsp;She prefers females in that role since she has lit her candle, so there is some noblewoman that will be screaming for my sister before the night is through.&nbsp; &nbsp;It has been some time since she has had the itch to play, and she is in the mood tonight."</strong><br><br>At the dance floor Bastion did his best to sell his role of being caught by perhaps the most intriguing and desirable noblewoman at court at the moment.&nbsp; &nbsp;Oh for a brief moment he wished that Desiree was present instead of back in Kusheth.&nbsp; &nbsp;Shahrizai or no, devil in the flesh or not, even Desire would not risk the Queen's ire and being present at court after she had been dismissed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Still, the jealousy and the anger Desiree would be feeling as seeing Bastion now.&nbsp; &nbsp;That made Bastion a bit bolder with Sephira.&nbsp; &nbsp; One hand went to the small of Sephira's back and he pressed in so he was pressing his body against hers.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion's bold was nothing more than a mass of unyielding steel.&nbsp; There was not an ounce of softness of flab upon his person, unlike some nobles Sephira perhaps had an assignation in the past.&nbsp; &nbsp;His other hand went to her hand and his grip was tight, the slight edge of pain to it as he rubbed his body against hers as they moved and flowed across the dance floor.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>"I suppose as a former courtesan of House Valerian you can understand a bit what drives my sister this night.&nbsp; Tell me Duchesse, what would change your mind this night, what would it be in a man or woman that would have had you thank Naamah and change your mind about being here this night?"</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 04:54:42</strong>
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				A small smile, barely a twitch of the lips and gone in the space of a heartbeat, touched Sephira's lips when Bastion actually laughed. Granted she hadn't meant to make him laugh, but, considering the seriousness with which he'd been talking this evening (and that she suspected was his usual mien) it was a nice change. He had a good laugh and it softened something tight just around his eyes. She suspected he didn't laugh nearly enough, especially lately if even half the rumors she'd heard were true.<br><br>"I've heard stories of the Dowayne. Strong impulses have always run thick in the blood of House Courcel so it's no surprise to hear that our Queen shares them," she said and might have added more but he pulled her into a tight grasp and managed to draw a soft gasp from her lips when his own grip tightened unexpectedly on her own and the edge of pain it brought made her body tremble against his.<br><br>Had she been expecting it she never would have reacted at all - she was far better trained than that! - but it was the first hint he'd given that those same urges he'd mentioned his sister having, might flow through him as well. It was also her first taste of physical pain since she'd been informed of her sister's death and her new place as the Duchess de Barthome. As such it drew a far stronger reaction than it might have were she still at Valerian House where such games, even among their own adepts to some degree, were normal and almost no day went by without some sweet kiss of some sort of pain.<br><br>For a moment all she wanted to do was revel in that pain, in the hard body pressed against her, but she let nothing more than that single gasp part her lips before her eyes snapped up to Bastion's own, violet meeting violet in a moment that proved, though distant and thin, there were a few drops of House Courcel somewhere in her own lineage as well. <br><br>"I understand what drives your sister as well as one side of a coin can understand the other. I'm sure whichever lover she chooses tonight will be quite pleased come morning. House Courcel may be demanding, but, among the Night Court, they're also known to give as much as they take and I've never met an adept that, while bruised and aching, didn't come away from an assignation with one of your House with a smile on their lips," she admitted, though she'd never say more than that and even that was pushing against the boundaries of Night Court etiquette where discretion was rule number one in every House. <br><br>"As for me, were I to give thanks to Naamah this night, it would be with a man. Women can make some of the most delightfully vicious Mandrakes I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, but I find the most fulfilling pleasure with men myself," she said, even more openly than your average D'Angeline...who weren't, by any means, shy of speaking their mind about sex. "I hadn't really thought about what would make me change my mind about spending this night alone, it hadn't really been an option until your grip on my hind reminded me that, in my grief over my sister and the weight of being a new Duchess, I've been neglecting parts of myself as a woman as well."<br><br>Letting him lead her around the floor, she was actually even more glad that she'd opted for a minimalist approach in her costume. Without the layers upon layers of silks, satins, and brocades that the other woman of the Court were wearing, she could feel the firm steel of his body against hers and not just the iron grip on his hand. As a Prince, she had simply trusted that he would know how to dance, and she'd been right, she didn't need to fall back on her own training to help them look good, his own grace did that without any aid from hers and when she allowed herself to glance about the room, she saw more than one jealous eyes and hungry look on both of them. The sheer disgust on some of the Dowagers faces, however, made her laugh outright and flash him a highly amused grin, "I think a few mother's are crossing you off their list of options for their daughters."&nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 08:42:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				There were rumors in the City, both at Court and even upon the Mont, that the only thing that the Prince exceeded at besides dancing was his skill and talent with a sword.&nbsp; &nbsp;If those rumors were indeed true, then the Prince was a deadly swords-master without peer as dancing with him was as easy as if one were dancing upon a cloud, how light and easy his feet moved.&nbsp; &nbsp;The man did not once need to look down upon his feet to see where to place them.&nbsp; &nbsp; He was a dancer of extreme skill, equal to that of any trained courtesan of the Night Court.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>At her words of being reminded that she was indeed a woman with needs she far neglected, there was a hungry and eager light that sprang forth in the Prince's eyes.&nbsp; &nbsp;His hand caressed now the length of back, up to her shoulders and down to her perfect buttocks, fingers powerful and full of such wicked and illicit promise dig into Sephira's flesh as he raked them up and down, back and forth.&nbsp; &nbsp;He too pressed her into him and now she could feel the Prince through the very brief layers of her costume, and a man blessed by Naamah himself he was, enough so to make even the most jaded of courtesans sex weep and wet with pleasure and want.<br><br>His voice broke the momentary silence with that near angelic sound of his voice.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"I did now, stir and bring to surface such long forgotten desires?&nbsp; &nbsp;You were of Valerian House if I heard and recall correctly yes?&nbsp; &nbsp;I have heard that there are some that take to the part of pain with pleasure with such fevour and passion as any <em>anguissette</em>, while there are others that merely enjoyed the surrender of movement and to be bound while their patron toyed with them, but did not enjoy the last of pain much at all save only as the minor goad to pleasure."</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;At this, his hand tightened a bit upon her hand, his fingers upon her rear press in more and his voice dipped so it almost could not be heard, but it was near impossible not to with the intensity of his stare and the aura about him.&nbsp; <strong>"Which flavor of sweet Valerian honey were you I do wonder now."</strong><br><br>At the words of the mothers and their rising ire, Bastion cast a look about and the smile graced his face, a smile that had both a wicked and playful cast to it.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Then let us give them more reason to gossip and to drive the point home."</strong>&nbsp; At that he dance turned indeed wicked as he made certain that the bulge in his leather breeches over top the mound of Sepheria's sex as they twirled about the ballroom.&nbsp; &nbsp;At one point, Bastion put his leg between hers, and let her ride upon the granite like hardness of his thigh as he dipped her backwards and slowly rotated her about, pulled her up to repeat it all once again.&nbsp; &nbsp; The look of the Queen this time upon the couple was far from stern or disapproval,&nbsp; but was now a look of envy, as if the Queen herself would rather be in her brother's place.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 09:24:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seeing the hunger that flared in the deep violet of the eyes looking down into her own, Sephira felt her mouth go dry and a blush color her cheeks. She was out of her depths and the single look let her know it. She wasn't on Mont Nuit where she knew the steps to this, metaphorical, dance with such surety that she could have moved through it blind ease. No, here she was at Court with all the gossip, etiquette, and intrigue that that entailed. She was wrapped in the arms of a Prince of the Blood, and she'd just admitted that she'd, basically, been celibate since her sister's death, despite being a fully trained adept of Valerian House.<br><br>If she'd been thinking clearly she would have named herself a hundred kinds of fool. <br><br>Thinking wasn't a high priority however, not when Bastion continued his, not so subtle, assault on her flesh. She had no doubt he'd hear, and feel her breathing quicken as his hand tracked the line of her spinal column to slide down and dig firmly into the plump curve of her buttocks, holding her so closely against him that she couldn't escape feeling the evidence of the hunger she'd seen in his eyes. A hunger that was matched, and perhaps exceeded by her own when the hand holding hers tightened. It was nothing anyone would watching would see, but Sephira could feel the delicate bones of her hand pressing together in his grasp, not grinding, but the potential, the threat, and the sweet tinges of pain were all there, all nearly as exciting to her and the rigid length he kept her pressed against while the moved across the floor. <br><br>Able to gather her breath she managed to reply, but only because of years of training, a lesser woman would either be running in fear from the potential for violence she felt coiled inside of him, or trembling and pleading with him already. She was <em>not</em> a lesser woman, "Never forgotten, Highness, but deeply neglected, and yes, you've reminded me of them," she admitted playing slightly coy, though they'd both know it was merely for fun. She was an Adept, she wasn't an innocent coquette. "While I don't claim the fervor of an <em>anguisette</em> my Dowayne believed I came as close as it's possible to be to such heights without being one. I've found pain can heighten ones pleasure if your partner knows how to properly apply it. A game you seem well suited to playing, <em>Bastion</em>," added, using his name for the first time and letting it roll from her tongue like a lovers caress.<br><br>If he'd been a patron she'd have been more formal, even in her flirtations, but this was the Longest Night, there were no contracts. No patrons. If they came together on <em>this</em> night, of all nights, it would be as equals, despite the power she might give him over her and she wanted him to know it. She also wanted to know another measure of him. Would he be the sort of noble to bristle at her for not using his title or would he enjoy the way her voice caressed his name when coming from a possible intimate? Neither would negate her spending time with him, but they'd give her an idea of the footing they would be on. One handled Patrons and Lovers very differently after all.<br><br>When he offered to give the scandalized Dowagers even more to chew on, she laughed softly and let him lead her into an, increasingly, sultry, and blatant (even for D'Angelines!) dance that ranged across the floor so that none could fail to see. The constant press of his length against her body was almost enough to make her want to simply pull him into an alcove and beg him to have his way with her, but she wouldn't break her long fast with such a crude coupling, no matter the desire coursing through her veins! And she wouldn't disgrace her family name or title in such a fashion either. Still, it was hard to remember her pride when he pulled her closer, practically letting her ride him while he dipped her backward. With a wicked grin lifting the corners of her lips she let her eyes catch those of one of the most scandalized Dowagers and gave the old woman a wink! As she did, she also rolled her hips against Bastion's blatantly moving in wanton invitation and not caring who saw! When he raised her the second time, she eyes only for him, the violet of her gaze almost eclipsed by widened irises making her gaze seem almost black with desire.<br><br>She was, in fact, so concentrated on Bastion now, that the normally observant Adept totally missed the envious gaze of the Queen while they danced. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 05:47:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion was not effected by her familiar words.&nbsp; &nbsp;Instead it caused his grip upon her hand to tighten even a touch more and his hand to openly move down to grip at her ass.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was as hard as steel through his breeches, something that was perhaps maddening obvious to Sepheria as they continued their dance.&nbsp; &nbsp;Lust had sprang to life in those violet eyes, but it was lust with an edge, a hint of anger, as if he had his own inner demons to purge.&nbsp; &nbsp; Bastion kept his voice low as he continued to dance with her so it was only the two of them that could hear.&nbsp; <strong>"Come with me...'</strong><br><br>With that, he broke off from the dance, but the look upon his face was a dead give away that the action was the last thing he wanted to do, as if pulling away from her was causing him some physical pain.&nbsp; His grip upon her hand did not slack a bit as he pulled her along.&nbsp; &nbsp; He managed to keep the pace to such that she would have no issue keeping up, but it was difficult.&nbsp; &nbsp;He wanted to be alone with her right now, so he could talk so he could explain.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did not know why he wanted to explain to her the demons driving him.&nbsp; &nbsp; He had not before.&nbsp; The only one that knew anything was perhaps his sister, but she did not know to the full extent.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did not know why he was being driven now to tell her, but for the first time in well over two years he wanted to be with a woman, and not only be with her, but wanting her to suffer pain for him as well as pleasure, and he wanted to know why he was being driven by such so she could make the choice on her own to stay or to go.<br><br>The moved out of the ballroom and into one of the man private salons that resided upon the first floor of the palais.&nbsp; &nbsp;Once inside instead of pressing his body to Sephiras and running his hands over her like he so badly wanted to, he held off.&nbsp; &nbsp;The effort was clear in his body language and he was all be quivering to restrain himself not to loose control.&nbsp; &nbsp;Instead he guided her to a chaise and aided her to sit down upon it.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did not sit himself but instead he paced before her, silent for many heartbeats as if he was gathering he thoughts, but doing so was difficult for him to do so.<br><br><strong>"You say that I know how to apply pain with pleasure in a way that you know and desire, I am not certain that is the case.&nbsp; &nbsp;There are...things...secrets, my own demons that you do not know of.&nbsp; &nbsp;I am not certain how much I can bring myself to tell you, but I will tell you what I can make myself to so you can make the choice as if we would want to continue, or if you wish to go along and find another to sake the desire stirred to the fore by my actions, or you could do so now, and know that if you do I would bare you no ill will.&nbsp; These are not your demons and I do not expect you be a part of dealing with them."</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;He waited for her choice before continuing.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did not want to burden her unnecessarily.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 06:04:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sephira couldn't help it, she gasped audibly for him when his hand tightened on her own this time. Under his grip she could feel the delicate bones brushing together under her skin and knew that any more pressure could pose problems, but he hadn't crossed the line, not yet. He danced along it as expertly as he danced along the floor and when he bid her come with him, there was no real choice. In that moment she'd have followed him just about anywhere.<br><br>Trying to bring her mind into some semblance of order, she was actually grateful that he'd pulled away, but the grip on her hand reminded her of what he's stirred in her and gave her no chance to bury it back away. Her body burned with every step she took beside him, and she was glad she was able to ignore the whispers that traveled in their wake as they, oh so publicly, strode out of the ballroom together. By morning there would be tales of their debauchery that would, in all likelihood, be able to make even <em>her</em> blush slightly. People's imaginations were always so much more convoluted than most realities tended to be.<br><br>Entering the salon behind Bastion, she was surprised by how gently he settled her onto the chaise and remained silent when he prowled before her like a cornered cat. There was, clearly, something on his mind but she wasn't going to push him to reveal it. If he wanted her to know he would tell her. One of the hardest lessons she's had to learn in the Night Court was this one, when to simply remain silent and listening before a patron. When silence needed to be filled, and when it needed to be left empty and waiting.<br><br>Eventually he spoke, and she was surprised at the offer he made her. Twice in the space of a few moments he'd surprised an Adept of the Night Court, she couldn't help but to wonder if that was some sort of record. <br><br>"Demons are rarely exorcised by keeping them to oneself Bastion de la Courcel. I can't promise they can be banished at all, but perhaps the sharing can lesson the burden you feel in them," she answered, making no move to leave the chaise he'd set her in. Instead, she drew her feet up and under her, settling in more firmly to listen to what he would choose to tell her and marveling at the turns an evening could take in only the span of a few heartbeats.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 07:22:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion inclined his head at her words and he waited to see if she would indeed leave.&nbsp; &nbsp;When it was clear that she would not, he started to pace once more, as if uncertain where to start.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"While not a Casseline, I was raised among them to train, since they were without peer among the greatest swordsman and close combat.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was so that I could become my sister's champion, when she was Dauphine, and later when she would rise to the throne.&nbsp; &nbsp;As such when many were playing the game of courtship at court, and learning the first steps of the dance of Naamah's arts.&nbsp; &nbsp;So when a woman was the first to show interest in me, I...I was ill prepared to hand or to deal with such emotions or affections."</strong><br><br>Bastion stopped for a moment and as if a nervous gesture, ran his hand through the dark raven like locks of his hair before he pressed on with his tale.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"The woman that was...interested in me had another lover.&nbsp; &nbsp;With that lover she played the Valerian, but with me, she played the Mandrake, and thought it a right lark to use me so in such a way, to do and inflict upon me the pain that was inflicted upon her.&nbsp; It did not start out that way at first.&nbsp; &nbsp;At first it was simply enough to have a Prince of the Blood kneel and beg upon her for my pleasure, top beg to be allowed permission to pleasure her.&nbsp; &nbsp;It degenerated into something worse, something darker, and not of Elua or Naamah's will in the end, but I was so..."</strong><br><br>He stopped for a moment and said no more for a few long heat beats, and when he did continue, he spoke in a soft voice.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"She told me if I used the <em>signale</em> that I did not love her, that our relationship was done, that she would banish me from her presence never to know her sex gripping my cock every again..."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 07:45:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Listening in silence as Bastion spoke, Sephira, felt a growing sense of horror an outrage growing deep in her heart. An adept the Night Court she served Naamah's pleasure on her patrons for a variety of reason, just as Naamah herself brought pleasure to many herself for her own reasons and love of Elua, but what had been done to Bastion was as close to blasphemy as anything she'd ever heard!<br><br>Rising from the chaise he'd seated her in she stepped into his path, giving him no choice but to pause or trample her and trusting in him to pause. Reaching up she cupped his face gently so that he must look at her, must see the fierceness on her face when a curse fell from those sweetly curved lips, "May this woman <em>never</em> feel the touch of Naamah's pleasure again in her life and Eisheth blight her womb and Kushiel himself show her no mercy in the Terre d'Ange that lies beyond.<br><br>Bastion, <em>you</em> did no wrong. In Valerian and Mandrake, the <em>signale</em> is sacred. To disregard or deny it's use is blasphemy Bastion. For all the freedom we enjoy, all the pleasure we revel in as D'Angelines, our one precept, the one guiding star Elua and his Companions left us was love and to deny the <em>signale</em> is to deny that precept. Even an <em>anguisette</em> has the use of a <em>signale</em>, Bastion."<br><br>By the end of her rant she was all but growling and if he had pointed out this woman to her in a crowd, she'd have happily clawed the heinous bitches eyes from her face and cut her vile, deceiving, villainous tongue from her mouth!<br><br>"In all of this, <em>she</em> was in the wrong, what demon did she leave you with from this Bastion because I assure you, it should be <em>hers</em> to endure the torment of, not your own."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 08:08:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion sighs softly and as if by reflex his arms wrap about Sephira and he holds her such.&nbsp; &nbsp;So thin was the material between them that she could feel his heart beat, and it is not a steady beat at all.&nbsp; <strong>"I thought I loved her and as such did not wish to loose that.&nbsp; &nbsp;She...she did not mark or scar me, but there were...things..."</strong>&nbsp; He shook his head and he did not continue among that, but started down another train of thought.&nbsp; <strong>"While she was not the worse offender, the very few other women were clear they wanted something from me or they would withdraw their affections.&nbsp; &nbsp;As such I dismissed them.&nbsp; &nbsp;After two such, I stopped seeking, or even acknowledging, affections of woman at court."</strong><br><br>His hands start to roam over Sepheria and there was a slight tremble to them, but it is not clear if such a tremble was from fear or from lust and desire barely held in check.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Just as you profess I have awaken desire in you, so the same has been done to me.&nbsp; I must profess there there is still raw anger that cannot be removed from my desire.&nbsp; &nbsp;I know you are Valerian, and I will honor the <em>signale</em>, but there is a difference between pleasure and the pain that can come from it, but I am not certain about pain inflicted upon one to satisfy my pleasure.&nbsp; &nbsp;It would be too much to ask for and I could not even think to ask it of anyone, even you who profess that such pain would ignite the flames of passion and desire in you."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 08:20:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Making no move to pull away from the arms around her, Sephira, kept her fierce expression, almost a scowl, in order to avoid showing him the sympathy she felt for him as well. Reaching up she placed her hand over the swift, erratic, beating of his heart and shoot her head gently, "She may not have scarred your body, but she did mark you. Internal scars are the hardest to heal and healing isn't Valerian's specialty but, I suspect, in this case, my Dowayne would think that perhaps only Valerian can heal the scars these women have left on you."<br>&nbsp;<br>She felt the slight trembling in his hands but she didn't acknowledge it or comment on it. She gave no indication that she noticed anything untoward in his touch at all, "You are of House Courcel <em>and</em> have played the role of Valerian for previous lovers, but your natural state, as with the majority of those of the Blood, is Mandrake Bastion. You were not made to serve in pain, but to wield it. Having served however, will give you unique insight and respect when I tell you that my signale is <em>Moonlight</em> and when I say that this salon is only welcoming for the most improvised of such games."<br><br>Simple words, but with them she had given him permission to take them off somewhere better equipped to cater to both of their desires. Her own estates had all of her own equipment for such things, but he'd been under the control of women who had hurt him and chose not to suggest to take him into what would be, her own territory. She would leave the choice of their changing places, and where to go, to him to decide. She gave <em>him</em> the control that others had taken from him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 09:03:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At her answer, Bastion could no longer restrain himself.&nbsp; &nbsp;His hand went to her hair and with an almost harsh grip, tugs upon it and pulled her mouth to his.&nbsp; &nbsp; He pressed and pushed her and made her back up that she would collide with the wall with near bruising force, enough of a sharp impulse of pain to remind her of pain given to her is so many pleasurable ways.&nbsp; &nbsp;His other hand moved up her body in a bold and powerful move to cup at her breast and fingers like a vise grip upon her breast so, to bring that pain he wants to inflict upon her to the fore, to have it course through her body, and his sharp eyes study her reactions to see if they are welcome or not.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was a bit of hesitancy to his actions, as if he was indeed afraid that he would be rebuked for it.<br><br>Still, he does press on and after he has kissed and delved her mouth with his tongue, he broke off his kiss, his breathing heavy and labored with lust and need.&nbsp; His voice took on a richer and more darkly sensual tone, like honey with a touch of spice dribbled upon one's tongue.&nbsp; &nbsp; <strong>"I would take you to the pleasure chamber installed in the palais, a legacy from my ancestor Sidonie de la Courcel when she played such dark games with her husband, Imierl de Montreve de la Courcel.&nbsp; &nbsp;However, given my sister's mood, I suspect that she will be partaking of the room tonight, and I am not up to her observing me with another, nor me seeing her with another."</strong> <br><br>Bastion continued his rough handling upon her breasts and he moved his mouth down her neck, teeth nipping and biting at the pulse point at her neck before he spoke again.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"There tis always House Valerian?&nbsp; While I know it is by tradition that no contracts are issues or signed upon this night, surely the patron chambers that are stocked with needs to seeing of a patron with her courtesan of Valerian?&nbsp; &nbsp;I think such could be accomplished and be suitable for our needs and desires this night, yes?</strong>&nbsp; At this he found the nipple pressing like a hard stone up though the thin material of her dress and without much mercy, took the sensitive nub of flesh and twisted it so to make her body arch in both pleasure and pain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 15:16:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He might be concerned about his demons, but Sephira had had no doubts about his proclivities from the first moment he'd take her hand - oh so tightly! - out on the dance floor! The sudden grip of his hand in her&nbsp; flaming curls was only confirmation that drew a sweet gasp just before his mouth landed to lay siege to her own. Hands that had cupped his face seconds before, slid down to twine around his neck and when he pushed back there was no fight in her, she let herself be guided to collide with a nearby wall, the sudden impact drawing a whimper from her throat that could barely be heard, at least by herself, over the blood thundering through her body as it all but exploded in sheer <em>need</em> once more! <br><br>In that moment she was torn between the desire for two things; to have him simply ravish her where they were, and the need to retire somewhere more properly equipped to take them to the deeper levels of pain and pleasure they both craved! With his hand on her breast in an exquisitely tight grip she cried out against his lips and the fingers at the back of his neck clung even more tightly to him while her body arched away from the wall in desperate desire to be closer to his own. Trapped as she was between the wall and <em>him</em> the only way she was getting closer was for their clothing to melt away, but that didn't stop her from squirming and pressing and <em>trying</em> for anything she could get. <br><br>When his lips finally broke from her, he would see that her own were bruised and swollen, her breathing quick and the look dancing in her violet eyes anything but rebuking. If he'd expected her to become afraid of his desires, or suddenly decide to pull away, he'd find himself entirely wrong. The pure, dark, craving in Sephira's face would only be satisfied by one thing, <em>more</em>.<br><br>Trying to listen as he spoke, she found her hand following his head, her fingertips playing lightly in the hair at the back of his skull in gently caresses while low mewlings parted her lips each time his teeth found the tender flesh along the column of her neck. A column left bare and open to him when her head tipped, offering her flesh to his bite. He made it exceptionally hard to focus on what he said, but she caught something about the Queen and a mention of Valerian House, but before she could make her mind formulate any sort of response, his fingers had found a sensitive nipple and twisted it sharply! Instead of an answer he drew a cry from her lips and&nbsp; found himself with the need to keep her upright against the wall as her knees suddenly wanted to buckle from the sheer pleasure of the pain he inflicted!<br><br>If an <em>anguisette</em> felt more pleasure in the pain inflicted by her lovers than Sephira did, then Sephira honestly pitied them because this was already blossoming into an all consuming <em>need</em> and she still had all her clothes on!<br><br>Finally managing to formulate a few words, her voice came out low, eager, and trembling along that edge of pain and pleasure he was walking them along, "No contracts, and without an Adept or one of the coins given out by the Dowaynes you'd not be welcome this night, but, Duchess or not, I <em>am</em> an Adept of Valerian House and my Dowayne will admit us. She'll very much enjoy having not just a Duchess, but a Prince of the Blood, seeing the refuge of her House on this Longest Night. It will increase Valerian's prestige among the other Houses even if it's not generally known. Though the way gossip spreads through this city, it will be generally known by morning, and by the weeks end so exaggerated that it will, in all likelihood, sound as if we partook in the most debauched of orgies!" she said ending with a laugh and her voice more controlled but her body still clung to his own and there was no sign that she had any intention of letting go unless he made her do so.<br><br>Almost as an afterthought she added with a low chuckle, "Though if you expect me to be able to make it to a carriage you're going to have to release by breast or my knees are never going to function properly!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>08-12-2014, 04:27:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion did not release her, not right away, but with a wicked smile moved to her her other nipple and gave it the same treatment while holding her body up with the hard muscled plane of his body.&nbsp; &nbsp;He sensed and felt her knees buckle when he pinched it before, and he was curious as to discover what would happen if he did it all over again, to make her body rub up and down against him.&nbsp; &nbsp; At her words he inclined his head towards her.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"That is good, for I was going to be at a loss of where else to take you tonight.&nbsp; &nbsp;As to releasing your breast, I suppose if I must.&nbsp; I am also all for making a scandal but if the idea of an orgy arouses you perhaps we have much more to speak about this night after we have saked this desire that must be quenched upon one another.&nbsp; &nbsp; Come, it is this way to the carriages.&nbsp; &nbsp;I had one prepared in case I had managed to slip away form my sister's hawkish gaze.&nbsp; &nbsp;Come!" </strong><br><br>Bastion offered his arm to Sephira ad they walked at perhaps a bit more sedate and slower pace than they left the ballroom.&nbsp; &nbsp;Every now and then they would run into royal guards and as they did, they would bow their head in respect, and some in utter shock at seeing the Prince with a woman.&nbsp; &nbsp;If they did not know the why behind his actions, the fact that he did not seek female company at all must be a badly kept secret, at least among the guard.&nbsp; &nbsp;They did clear out of the way for the two of them, and after what seemed likely an eternity they arrive at the outside of the palais and to the carriage that was indeed waiting for Bastion.<br><br>Bastion opened the door and aided Sepheria into the carriage, his hand caressing over her body as she slid and brushed past him.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion turned towards the drive and told him to take them to the Night Court, to House Valerian.&nbsp; &nbsp;He had to repeat himself, perhaps because the driver was confused.&nbsp; &nbsp;Once that was cleared up, Bastion stepped up into the carriage and he wasted no time pulling Sephira into his lap and molding his body against hers.&nbsp; &nbsp;His hand once more to her hair and he pulled, exerting his control over Sephira once more.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"So, we do have a bit before we reach the Mont.&nbsp; What ever shall we do in this carriage to pass the time?"</strong>&nbsp; His voice was almost a purr as his mouth brushed over her exposed skin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>08-12-2014, 04:50:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Staring up at the man before her, she gave him what he seemed to want when his hand found her other breast and twisted the nipple sharply; a low cry parted her lips and her back arched from the wall, seeking to follow that iron grip while only the hard press of his own body, and the arm clinging around his neck kept her upright instead of spilling to the floor in a quivering heap before him. When he released her breast at last she was still trembling and had to fight not to stumble her first few steps away from the wall that had held her upright.<br><br>As they made their way through the halls she saw the Guards and noted the shock and surprise on their faces at seeing him with a woman. She couldn't help but wonder how this would add to the rumors that would swirl around them, especially when those same Guards would look up and see the completed Marque bared on her back and know which House she belonged to. The very idea put a small smile on her lips and she couldn't help adding fuel to the fire when she spoke to him, little caring that her voice would echo down the hallways and easily reach those Guards, "I'll admit, a full orgy isn't really my idea of a good time, though a few extra pair of hands now and then can be quite intriguing, Highness," she said with a soft laugh that carried easily through the hall.<br><br>She couldn't help but to wonder when the last time they'd seen a woman laugh with their Prince was.<br><br>Reaching the carriage, at last, she could have climbed in without help, but was more than willing to take the offered help simply to give him an excuse to let his hands find her body once more. She didn't think she'd ever been so grateful to let a carriage door shut as she was that night and a delighted laugh burst from her lips when he pulled her into his lap, the grip in her hair making her tremble for him as it forced her to meet his gaze with her own lustful one, "What do you wish to do to pass the time, Bastion," she asked, honestly interested in what his answer would be. The could slake the very edge of their need in the time it would take them to reach Valerian House, or they could build it to a fever pitch...either way was bound to be it's own delicious torment and she was eager to fulfill his choice. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>08-12-2014, 05:49:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion smirked and with his free hand he brushed at the bodice of her gown and moved the fabric there till he exposed one of Sephira's breasts.&nbsp; &nbsp;His fingers again went to the hard, sensitive nub of her nipple and without much warning or preamble, pinches it and twists it so to get from her the noises he managed to wring from her body before.&nbsp; &nbsp;If this was but a fraction of what it was like for Desiree he could well understand why she did what she did, and he was even more curious and wanting to discover what else he could do with this willing woman, this embodiment of Naamah that was before him.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br><strong>"Never in all of her dealings with me did a woman take me into her mouth.&nbsp; &nbsp;Always she had me upon my knees or on y back.&nbsp; &nbsp;At times she would sit upon my face and tell me that she would make it hard for me to breathe unless I licked her to climax.&nbsp; &nbsp;I will admit I became very proficient with the <em>languisment</em>, but never did that...evil woman, ply her mouth upon me.&nbsp; &nbsp;She said she had used her mouth enough upon her other lovers, she was not going to waste it upon me.&nbsp; &nbsp; I want that to change."</strong><br><br>Still with a grip upon her nipple, he tugged upon her hair to put her upon her knees before him in the carriage.&nbsp; &nbsp;He use that grip and had her caress her face and her lips over the bulge in his leather breeches as that darkly sensual whisper in that near angelic voice returned.&nbsp; <strong>"Take me into your mouth, please me, pleasure me."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>09-12-2014, 04:33:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The smirk was her first clue that he already had something in mind and it brought an eager smile to her own lips. Almost vibrating in his lap she watched as he pushed one side of her gown toward the center, baring her breast to him. Even with some idea of what was coming, she watched in eager fascination as his fingers took a firm grip of an already hardened nipple and twisted it sharply. If it was a cry from her lips he wanted, he got it, a sharp sound that faded to a whimper while heat flared behind her eyes and her back arched for him, actually lifting that breast up like an offering to that merciless touch while her breathing quickened and her body fought the urge to squirm on his lap. <br><br>It was a good beginning, but the words that followed it were almost enough to break her heart and to make her want to hurt someone terribly, and not for pleasure, all at the same time.<br><br>He gave her body no choice, his grip on the sensitive bud at the end of her breast forcing her to her knees before him. The <em>languisment</em> was what he wanted, and so he would have it, but she'd have to explain to him later just how many variations there were and how few of them could be managed in a moving carriage! It wouldn't be her best work (for that she'd not to be jostling every time the carriage hit a bump in the road!), but if he'd not had this particular pleasure he might not notice. And while not her best, it would still be very good, and his pleasure was guaranteed.<br><br>Looking up from between his knees, she let him see the hunger in her eyes as she reached up, her hands finding the laces that would open the leather breeches that had kept him from her all night! "We don't have the time, or proper space, to use all the skills and Adept of Valerian is taught my Prince," she admitted but the husky tenor of her voice implied there was more to say. Reaching into his open breeches she drew out the firm length of him and all but purred at the sight. Letting her fingertips stroke up and down the turgid length she spoke in a voice that was little more than a need-filled whisper. "But we've time to make a good start."<br><br>Tipping her head over that rigid shaft, her lips parted, drawing just the head between them and suckling gently at first. She didn't know his tolerances, or what would please him more yet and so she started gently, not wanting to bring any pain into this for him, wanting to give him a memory of pleasure that was just that, pleasure merely meant to please him. Below her lips, her right hand wrapped around length of him, stroking in time to the suckling of her lips. Randomly she couldn't help but to be pleased she'd worn her fiery curls up instead of leaving them loose tonight, it would give him a clear view as she started to slide her mouth lower, taking more of him, working his length into her mouth gradually, taking the time to savor every bit she allowed to pass her lips, 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>10-12-2014, 07:55:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion keep a grip upon Sephria's hair that was loose enough to allow her to move her head, but enough so he could reassert his grip upon it at a moments notice.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was listening to her words, and while they did have a wisdom about them, right now there was a feral and animistic part to the Prince that did not care and wanted pleasure at the moment, and he could think of no other way to scratch the edge of his demons and his long buried rage against noblewomen than that woman on her knees humbling herself a bit with his cock in her mouth.&nbsp; &nbsp; Perhaps with that initial need out of the way and no longer pressing upon him like his brain was on fire he could take things at a less near frantic pace.<br><br>[b"I am certain we can do a wonderful beginning my Valerian exotic flower, but I want our time together to be inventive and lasting well into the night and into the morning, but I cannot do that with how you have reawakened this need inside me.&nbsp; &nbsp;It has been far too long...][/b]&nbsp; All other words were forgotten as he felt her mouth upon his crown.&nbsp; &nbsp;His hand tightened about her hair and there was pressure upon the back of her head.&nbsp; &nbsp;It seems the Prince was used to gentle when it came to the arts of Naamah.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion let out a hiss of pure carnal pleasure and he arched his hips up to meet her lips every time she took him into her mouth.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Bastion knew enough that the carriage was not ideal for her to use her full art that he had read about in the old texts, so he did not try to force her to do so.&nbsp; There was enough of an edge to it that to hint that he might, to use his inexperience to make her believe he just might.&nbsp; &nbsp;His other hand was not idle and he twisted and pulled on her nipple to the point that he could feel the vibration along his length.&nbsp; &nbsp; The third time it happened was when his hand tightened even more about her hair and he thrust one more time and his seed exploded from him and into her waiting and wanton mouth.&nbsp; &nbsp; It seemed to last for several long moments before Bastion reclined back against the seat of the carriage, his chest heaving hard as if he had just run a long distance.&nbsp; &nbsp;His grip upon her hair slackened a bit, but only a bit.&nbsp; &nbsp;His grip upon her nipple was still there, tightening and relaxing, not letting go and wanting to hear those lovely noises from her still.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>11-12-2014, 02:42:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If she could have smiled, Sephira would have been grinning like a cheshire cat when his hand tightened in her hair and she heard the hiss of pleasure he didn't bother holding back from her. She liked that he felt free enough to abandon decorum and lose himself in what he was feeling...and she wanted him to feel everything she had to offer. For all that she was the one on her knees, Sephira rarely felt as powerful with a patron as she did when she had their cocks in her mouth. It was intimate and carnal in a way that few other things were, and not even <em>languisement</em> on a woman could truly compare to the act of taking a man's sex past her lips, to feel his hips thrusting toward her and that turgid length seeking the gentle grip of her throat as well. <br><br>When he had the chance to know her better, he would quickly realize there were few things she enjoyed more.<br><br>He didn't last long. His having told her no one had done this for him before had given her a clue that he might not, but she didn't release the grip of her lips on his length simply because his seed burst from him. No, she continued to suckle, eager for what she was receiving and refusing to allow a single drop past the seal her lips made on his flesh. With is own hands on her hair and nipple seeking to distract her it was difficult to remain focused, but she wouldn't be much of adept if she couldn't put aside her own pleasure in favor of that of her patron! As much as he seemed amused by her own reactions, she had no doubt there would be plenty of pleasure in store for her as well this night. <br><br>Only when she felt the last shudderings of his body and he reclined back in his seat once more, did she slowly, let his cock slide from her lips, as clean as it had been when she'd drawn it from his breeches. Looking up at him, she met his gaze and let him see the self-satisfied curl of her lips at the sight of him relaxed before her. With his grip still firm in her lush curls and his fingers still twisting her nipples, she was brought, once more, back into her own body and she didn't bother, now, to hide the trembling of her flesh before him as she asked on an amused, and husky, whisper, "Feeling better my Prince?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>11-12-2014, 07:43:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It took a little bit but Bastion recovered himself, in more ways than one as his cock perhaps softened for only a few heartbeats before he was hard and ready again.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion's eyes roamed over the kneeling form before him, and the bared breast before him.&nbsp; &nbsp;His fingers moved and cupped her bare breast again and squeezed again, and squeezed hard and watched and listened to her, to see that body tremble and to hear her noises that she makes for him.&nbsp; He leaned in and did something he also had not done often lately with women, and that was kiss her.&nbsp; &nbsp;He plundered her mouth like he wanted to posses her, own her and more.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did want to, he wanted it all for this night, to remove the festering thorn in his side, the lay waste to the demons plaguing him.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was going to make her scream and experience pain this night, and part of him was shocked at his reaction to that.<br><br><strong>"You are trembling."</strong>&nbsp; He whispered so softly, yet that core and edge raw and dark sensuality was there.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"It is from desire, fear, or both I wonder.&nbsp; &nbsp;I know you are Valerian, and I will not violate your <em>signale</em>, but I do plan to hurt you tonight, to hear you scream.&nbsp; &nbsp;You did not flinch or pull away before but I wonder if that is because you pity me so and want to experience and endure it for me, or is it because you truly want to scream in pain for me, to climax from it before I even bury my cock inside you and make you milk it and climax again."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>11-12-2014, 21:01:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In the back of her mind, Sephira, had to admit that his rebound time was impressive. Of course he was D'Angeline and of House Courcel and word among the Night Court was that that House's stamina was legendary. She might have smiled as the length of him, so recently being nurtured within the cavern of her mouth, hardened once more, but she wasn't given the chance as his hand shifted from his fingers taunting her nipple to his palm cupping her breath and squeezing sharply! She didn't even try to hide the cry that filled her throat or the quivering that ran down her spine. If she hadn't been caught between the hand in her hair and the one on her breast she would have arched for him, pushing her back into that grip, but there was nowhere to go in the confines of the carriage&nbsp; and before she could formulate a smart quip, his lips found hers.<br><br>She gave herself to that kiss. In that moment nothing else mattered but to yield to the possession he demanded, to give herself over to him and feed him the small whimpers and moans that filled her throat while need ravaged her body.<br><br>And then he took those lips away and she whimpered once more, her eyes opening, eyes blinking and her gaze filled with a very real desire that would have answered his question all on it's own, except she got the impression he wanted to hear it from her own lips, "If pity were all I felt Bastion," she murmured her voice caressing his name like the touch of an eager lover, "I would send you to Balm House for healing and be done. This night, of all nights, I wouldn't let pity sway me where my own desires didn't lead. I want to hurt, I want to scream, I want to savor all the sweet agonies my House is known for enduring...and I want <em>you</em> to inflict them Bastion."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>12-12-2014, 06:39:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh her words seemed to have struck a cord inside the Prince.&nbsp; &nbsp;His hand left her hair and with rather less delicacy and care than before, bared her other breast.&nbsp; &nbsp;Both hands went to them and he applied even more force than before.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"That is good, your Grace.&nbsp; It actually warms my stone cold heart and perhaps made me think that not all noblewoman should be taken into Kushiel's less than merciful care.&nbsp; &nbsp;Let me hear you now, and I will also promise you that before the night is done and the first rays of dawn break the horizon, you will call me "My Prince" or "My Lord" and not Bastion."</strong><br><br>He moved his mouth down and he sucked hard upon her nipples, then he bit down upon her nipples.&nbsp; Not hard enough to break skin but far from the gentle love nips that he had given before earlier this evening.&nbsp; &nbsp;He fingers dug in a bit more and his eyes were bright and burning with lust and more behind those violet eyes.&nbsp; His voice was still like that of an angel's with a darkly seductive purr behind it that promised that Sephira had indeed chosen right in this man, a man with the potential to awaken inside her what grief had cast a shadow and smothered in despair.<br><br><strong>"Tell me my toy for the evening, please tell me what it is about the sharper pleasures that you enjoy the most.&nbsp; &nbsp;What brings Naamah's presence upon you and has your honey flowing like the nectar it is when you are with a patron.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is the cane, is it the whip, tell me all that will make you sing loudly and make this evening as pleasurable for you as it will be for me."</strong> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>12-12-2014, 06:54:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Staring into his eyes, she let her own shine with the lust building low in her belly. Between her thighs heat was growing and the slickness that would prove her words was starting to flow. With his release of her hair, she let her hands fall to the floor of the carriage, making her back arch and offering her breasts to his firm grip. She adored the decisive pull of his fingers, the rough scratch of his palms on tender flesh and the way his voice rained down over her from above.<br><br>"I'll call you whatever you like, you need only let me know your preference," she managed to murmur but her voice broke off into a low cry when his mouth found first one and the then other her nipples! Squirming on the carriage floor, she sought to press closer, the actual bit of teeth sinking into flesh almost bringing her to completion all on it own! It had been so long. SO long since she'd catered to this part of herself that she was nearly as on edge and ready to explode as he had been when she'd placed her mouth on his cock.<br><br>"I enjoy it all," she managed, her voice a low whimpering and quivering with the need raging through her body, "I savor the sting of a crop or can, and the sharp thud of a flogger, being bound so firmly that I have no choice in what a patron does, being used until I can't move, or even think of moving. What draws the most ragged cries though, the things that make me come unhinged the fastest and with the most fury are the most hands on. Teeth, nails, a cock forced into me before I'm entirely ready, flesh on flesh and having no choice but to yield to the pain and pleasure of it all."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>13-12-2014, 07:22:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sephira's last comment did manage to bring a wry, honest, and pure laugh from Bastion, perhaps the first time this night that had happened.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion leaned down and he used his mouth upon her breast, all over to them up all over.&nbsp; &nbsp;He looked up after he bit down on each nipple once more before he spoke again.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Force myself upon you before you are ready?&nbsp; Well I suppose that will have to be another night, because I swear ever since we climbed into the carriage, your sex has more than ready for me to fill it, and it will I promise.&nbsp; It will fill you in every way that a man can fill a woman tonight."</strong><br><br>The carriage started to slow down, and as it did, there was a moment of hesitation before Bastion started to repair her dress, to cover her breasts and to make Sephira presentable again.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"I think there will be more than once with us, I will use another time to parade you about nude, hands bound behind you on a collar and lead, but I can be kind tonight.&nbsp; &nbsp;You are going to allow me to do wicked almost evil things to you so for that I will allow you to be the Courtesan and Noble you are.&nbsp; &nbsp;This is your place, where you are the Queen in spirit if not in name, and I place myself in your more than capable hands to guide me to where we will both get what Eisheth, Naamah, and Kushiel want to pass along to us this night."</strong><br><br>Bastion took a few moments to compose himself and his wardrobe, making himself presentable.&nbsp; &nbsp;Once that was done, he let himself out of the carriage and took a step down.&nbsp; &nbsp;He offered a hand to her to help her down to the carriage.&nbsp; He let his hands slide over her body once more as he positioned himself as the perfect escort for her before the steps of the Valerian House.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>14-12-2014, 02:43:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She couldn't help but to smile at his laugh. She suspected it was something he didn't do nearly often enough and resolved to hear it more, if he'd let her. He could, of course, choose not to see her again after this night and she wasn't the sort to pursue those that didn't wish it. Watching his head tip to her once more, a low purring of desire seemed to rise from her throat and she arched her back to push her breasts up in an offering to his lips, her own parting in soft whimperings while her eyes all but rolled up into her head as pleasure and pain mingled from the sharpness of his bites. <br><br>Only the sound of his voice opened her eyes, making her try to focus on him, though it was hard when her body was crying out for more!<br><br>"I was ready before we ever even reached the carriage," she admitted, a gamine smile on her lips as she said something many would hide as part of their flirtation. "I look forward to you fulfilling that promise, my Prince," she said her voice quivering just slightly with the increased desire that spilled through her when he promised he'd fill her every way a man could tonight. She believed him, after all he'd already made a start of it here in the carriage.<br><br>As the carriage slowed she remained still, letting him straighten her clothing and hair. She had no doubt she'd appear slightly mussed, but she wouldn't shame her House with her appearance after his gentle touch settled her gown in it's proper place once more. The soft material was it's own form of torture as it stretched and slid over the flesh he'd tormented with his teeth. She both wanted to pull the fabric tighter, and remove it entirely all at the same time!<br><br>His next comments however, put a slightly shrewder smile on her lips and as he straightened his own clothing, she let herself slide back up onto the seat across from him, her tone amused as she leaned forward on her knees to stare at him intently, "You think to lead me about as Melisande Sharizai once paraded the Comtesse d'Montreve? I think you may find me a far more shrewd negotiator than that. It won't be so easy to put me on a leash," she said, deliberately challenging him, wanting him to take up that challenge and return to her more than once. <br><br>Letting him leave the carriage first she took his offered hand and led him into Valerian House. For the most part the House was quiet, discretion after all was one of their hallmarks, but the rare few adepts they saw greeted the both, though Sephira in particular as she was one of their own, warmly and with with welcoming grins. It was the Longest Night and she'd brought a member of House Courcel to their House, she had no doubt that word would spread like wildfire and that her Dowayne would be well pleased with the news. <br><br>As this wasn't a contract she didn't take Bastion to present him before the Dowayne, there was no need for witnesses or notaries this night. Instead she led him through the halls with all the grace that had been trained into her, before pushing open a door that led to an opulent chamber. Warm and rich, everything was designed to please the senses and be used for either pleasure or pain. Cupboards held a multitude of implements from floggers to crops to canes to a variety of whips while the drawers contained more aides d'amour than many people had even heard of. The bottom most drawers of the largest wardrobe, however, were locked and a key would only be given under a contract for those drawers contained flechettes. Knives so sharp they could skin a person and the use of them was only allowed under contract and only with the signature of two witnesses bearing testament to the contractors skill. <br><br>Sephira herself had never been on the receiving end of them and had little desire (beyond simple curiosity) to be.<br><br>With a smile she waved her hand to encompass the entirety of the room, "Where would you like to start my Prince?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>18-12-2014, 03:30:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bastion started by removing his own clothing, at least part of it.&nbsp; &nbsp; Due to the nature of his costume he did not have much to shed before he was bare to the waist.&nbsp; &nbsp; Once more he was an example of striking opposites.&nbsp; &nbsp;His body and his physique was that of a Hellenic demi-god that they dedicated statues and other timeless and priceless works of art.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then there was that startling imperfection of his scar, a bit red about the edges before fading to a color that was slightly paler than the sun kissed hue of his flesh.&nbsp; &nbsp;The contrast perhaps made more of a visual impression of his beauty as he strode about the room like demi-god from old as he let his fingers caressed over the tools on display before him.<br><br><strong>"There are so many possibilities to start with.&nbsp; &nbsp; I have only been on the receiving end of most of this and not in the position that I am now.&nbsp; &nbsp;The power rush is a heady thing that arousing in its own way."</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;He picked out first a set of cuffs and a collar and had them in hand as he made a gesture with his free hand.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"I think we should start with you stripping and displaying all of you for me, then presenting yourself for me to cuff and collar you.&nbsp; &nbsp;After that I think I shall take a quirt and whip you, to whip you everywhere I desire and to hear those lovely noises and to also see if such makes your sex to drip in wanting for me."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>19-12-2014, 03:43:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simply standing and waiting had been a part of her training from a very young age but it had been years since she'd remembered just how difficult that could be at times! A part of her simply wanted to grab him and draw him to her, to feed hungrily on his lips and have his body ravish her own, but tonight (she reminded herself) wasn't about what she wanted. Not entirely at least. It was about what he needed, and the simple fact was that the delayed gratification would make her satisfaction all the greater when it did come for having been forced to wait. <br><br>Watching him remove his shirt she made no effort to hide the fact of her watching him. She wasn't playing some coy ingenue but was bold with her gaze, letting it roam over his physique and letting the <em>very</em> carnal appreciation she had for what she was looking at show in her eyes. She wanted to run her fingers over that chiseled stomach and over the muscled lines of his shoulders and back, but still she waited, simply standing, quiet but observant, while he looked around the room to see what would suit his own desires. <br><br>"If you'd like, I'm certain almost any Mandrake adept would be willing to come and do a demonstration on any implement you're unfamiliar with using. Many of the implements before you do require quite a bit of practice to wield well and avoid harming your partner in unexpected ways. As such, I would ask that you not use anything that's never been in your hand before. If you send the Dowaye of either this, or Mandrake, house, adepts can be arranged to teach not just the basics, but the most intricate, and devilish, means to use just about anything in this room. I'm told the more skilled you become, the greater that rush of power you feel," she said, a slow smile touching her lips as she imagined him with the skill to use anything in this room with grace and skill.<br><br>She had no doubts he'd take to such lessons readily.<br><br>Letting a small smile curve her lips when he told her to undress she moved for the first time since entering the room. It was simply enough to remove the broach that held the shoulder clasp of her toga and let it fall to the floor, the white silk pooling at her feet and revealing that there had been nothing underneath it. Stepping from the circle of silk she moved toward him, her smile inviting and teasing as she executed a small spin, clasped her hands behind her back and sank gently to her knees with her head slightly bowed, neck bared before him. Granted he hadn't instructed her on how to present herself, but this was the most common presentation in the House for binding and collaring...and it gave her a chance to show off just a touch of the grace and dignity that was so much a part of her training. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>23-12-2014, 22:21:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was all Bastion could do not to cry out in pain from how cramped and confined his cock was.&nbsp; &nbsp;It reminded him about the time that Desiree had wrapped his cock and balls in metal rings and leather.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had bound him that night. and made him first suck her lover to climax, then lick the both of them as she fucked the man, lording it over them both as to her beauty and power that she had a prince cuckolded.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>The memory of that, of the rings and the leather biting into his cock and balls as they surged with blood and lust, of the pain it caused and how similar the pain was now was something that Bastion could no longer stand.&nbsp; &nbsp;He quickly and without any sensual air or teasing tore off his boots and his breeches, exposing his full nude glory to Sephira.&nbsp; &nbsp;The pain and the memory caused a raw and angry edge to surface once more with Bastion, and he was far from gentle as he put the collar about her lovely neck and wrists.&nbsp; &nbsp;He locked them in place, then roughly brought her to her feet and put cuffs about her ankles.<br><br><strong>"I have been well trained in the use of whips and other devices to inflict pain, your Grace.&nbsp; &nbsp;You need not worry, for I will honor your <em>singale</em> if you use it, but you will not.&nbsp; While you will scream for me tonight, I will not damage such a find and body as you, not till I am well and done playing with such a toy as you.&nbsp; &nbsp;Your only fear need be if I actually let you out of your cuffs or collar."</strong><br><br>He had grabbed Sephira by her hair again as he used that grip to hurry and drag her to the chain from the ceiling.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was familiar with such a device, having been in one himself once.&nbsp; He secured her wrists to the bar so they were more than shoulder width apart, and secured her ankles to bolts in the floor.&nbsp; &nbsp;He left her there sagging and hanging for a bit as he went to adjust the chain, raising it so there was a little movement allowed by Sephira as she was stretched out in an upright "X".<br><br>Bastion moved out of field of view to decide which tool to use.&nbsp; &nbsp;He settled on the whip, but he did not crack it.&nbsp; He did not what her to know what he had selected for her as he took the first steps of leech out his anger locked inside him.&nbsp; &nbsp;He swung the whip overhead and let it fly.&nbsp; &nbsp;The pain lashed at Sephira's body from her back to wrap about her outstretches ribs and the tip to curl about and land upon her right breast.&nbsp; &nbsp;He pulled his swing so the "crack" of the whip happened well before the blow landed so the speed of the leather was reduced so the whip did not cut or break skin, but it did hurt like the five furies.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was only the first of many such blows, ten in total that crisscrossed her back from her shoulders to her ass, all curling about to lick at tits, stomach, and the top of the mound of her sex before Bastion finally pauses in his whipping of her.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>It is a pause however, not stop as he walked about in front of her, the whip trailing behind him like a live, angry viper wanting to lash out and strike.&nbsp; &nbsp; He first kissed her hard as his hand moved to maul one marked tit before he broke off the kiss.&nbsp; <strong>"Now to see how your lovely tits like the lash directly upon them, and how you will scream for me then when it does!"</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caela</strong> on <strong>24-12-2014, 02:12:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sephira has to resist the urge to bite her lower lip when she watched him tear his way out of his clothes. She had no idea what had made his anger resurface but it didn't take a Balm House adept to see that some memory had been triggered inside of him. His anger all but rolled off of him as he approached her, and she didn't bother hiding the slight trembling that carried down her spine at his rough handling while he place the collar and cuffs around her throat and wrists. Angry and rough he might be, but he was still in control of himself because, while they might chafe, he was clearly cognizant of not applying either too tightly and managed to make them snug, but not uncomfortably so and she had no concerns for her circulation despite the rough edge to his actions.<br><br>If she'd been concerned she'd have given her <em>signale</em> right then and plied him with other, less violent, pleasures.<br><br>His words made her gaze snap to his, but before she could ask about his cryptic comment (exactly <em>why</em> should she worry if he released her from the bounds she now wore?) his hand had plunged into the thick mass of her flaming curls and he was using it to guide her through the room. By the time they reached the spreader bar hanging from the ceiling, her breath was coming in quick pants and she couldn't even remember that there had been a question in her mind such scant seconds before. She didn't fight him, she didn't struggle, in fact she raised her hands to the edges of the bar, making binding her to it as easy for him as possible before also spreading her legs so he could lock her ankle shackles to a similar bar as well. <br><br>Well and truly trapped, her body trembled, but not with fear, anticipation was riding her and the only sounds to come from her were small whimpers of frustration as she turned her head, trying to twist enough to see what he was doing behind her and wanting to curse when she realized he knew where to stand to remain in the blind spot the bars would create by keeping her from twisting her body. <br><br>It wasn't until she heard the crack of the whip, that she knew what he'd chosen to use, and while her body tensed, the time between the crack and the actual wrapping of the leather around her flesh, and the ensuing pain it brought, told her all she needed to know about his training even as it ripped a cry from her lips and made the chains holding her rattle as she jerked against her bonds. Ten time she cried for him, ten times she jerked and shook in the chains holding her body open for him as he whipped her with an expertise she'd rarely had the pleasure of experiencing but it wasn't until he paused that tears sprang to her eyes. If asked later she'd never be certain if those tears were because she could suddenly feel every lash that had wrapped her body in red weals all at once, or simply because he'd stopped. She didn't know or care, she simply let them track her cheeks while she tried to catch her breath.<br><br>Breath she didn't get the chance to truly catch when he rounded in front of her, his lips almost savage on her own while he mauled the flesh he'd just marked, making those throbbing welts ache all the more and forcing her to feed him fresh cry along with the taste of the tears that had rolled down her face. He was going to push her and she was utterly eager for it! <br><br>"As...you...wish...myPrince," she managed to gasp as his words rolled over her and just the anticipation of what was to come was almost enough to make her come unhinged. Looking up to meet his gaze, she didn't hide the hunger in those violet depth, the need, the urgency riding her along with the pain or the way her body actually strained in her chains, not to draw away, but seeking to draw closer despite the pain he'd already inflicted on her. Knowing he was going to hurt her even more and she craved his touch and did nothing to hide that fact from him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Naamah's Service, a Terre d'Ange Tale</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackStone</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 18:54:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				While Bastion was need to this side of the whip, that did not mean he was inexperienced to the dance that was in the progress between himself and Sephira.&nbsp; No, it seemed Bastion knew how to well and truly keep the tension at a fever pitch, to keep one balanced on the razor's edge.&nbsp; &nbsp; Unlike many patrons who would have immediately went onto whipping at her breasts, to give that final sensation that would push her over her edge.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion did not give into that primal and carnal urge.&nbsp; &nbsp;He knew there was more than one form pain to use upon his new play toy, and that was why Bastion did not use the whip, but waited.<br><br>Instead he moved about Sephira's bound and hanging form, fingers raking against her hip and over the welts that decorate her body.&nbsp; <strong>"Oh no, not yet, not like that&nbsp; &nbsp;No I think I want you to wait a bit more before you experience your climax.&nbsp; &nbsp;No let us cool you down some before that happens."</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion stepped away from her then, and moved onto to a wash basin of water.&nbsp; &nbsp;Once there he took out several linen clothes and dipped them into the water.&nbsp; &nbsp;One by one he wrung out the cold water over her hanging body.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bastion could swear he could see steam rise from her body where the water touched her form.&nbsp; <br><br>He waited till he saw her body start to shiver and shake with the cold, to he her body wet and glistening with more than just her sweat.&nbsp; &nbsp;Once there was when he stepped back and with no warning started the whipping upon the front of her body.&nbsp; &nbsp;He started at her shoulders and worked his way down, this time he did not stop at ten lashes and made sure near every inch of her body from tits to the mound of her sex was struck, till the water had near dried upon her skin from the heat of of her lust and need, her skin feverish with being kept on the edge with pleasure and pain.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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