1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner & Ciosa)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Ciosa on 05-02-2013, 05:20:54</h2>
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				Title: <strong>1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>05-02-2013, 05:20:54</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>1839 Arkham Court</strong></span></span></div><br><div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/af/Were_house.jpg)</div><br>The good ones always came with baggage.&nbsp; <br><br>Or at least – that's what it felt like should be written on her tombstone.&nbsp; Another wave of pain passed through her body, agony so intense it made her muscles and ligaments feel as though they would tear off the bone.&nbsp; Every wave seemed worse than the last – and this time in the aftermath she could feel the pounding heart, the racing pulse of the man who drove the car.&nbsp; She could also hear the revving of the engine, the growl of pistons as the car passed a hundred, screeching around a corner at over a hundred miles an hour.&nbsp; There was the lurch of momentum, as she slid on the blanket he'd wrapped her in, but her fingers were too weak to grasp at the fabric.&nbsp; <br><br>“Come on, come on,” said the man, rubbing at the light beard on his chin, and looking up into the rear-view mirror at where she was sprawled in the back seat.&nbsp; Another wave of pure, excruciating pain passed through her, as it felt like her organs swelled and pressed against her rib cage.&nbsp; For a moment, she caught a view of her hand, at bone and muscle warping and stretching, joints popping and cracking&nbsp; before it bacame the more familiar hand she knew.&nbsp; The man forced his gaze back upon the road, his focus intense and narrow as he threaded his way around a pair of cars, through oncoming traffic, the engine screaming the entire time.<br><br>It had been a nice car – not a great one, but one of those modest little sedans.&nbsp; She hadn't had much more time to appreciate it before he'd bent her over the hood, and started to take her so hard her knees had bounced off the grill of the car with every thrust.&nbsp; IT had been pure masculine sexy, done with a assurance she'd found hard to believe – he hadn't even bothered with foreplay; it was like he knew how badly they'd both wanted one another, and the easy way he'd lifted her skirt and slid her panties down&nbsp; and just <em>taken</em> her before she was even sure what was happening had been right out of a dark fantasy.&nbsp; He'd pulled her hair back right before the first groan had slipped out; and when the strobe of blue and red lights had threatened to interrupt what was certain to be a <em>really <strong>good</strong></em> climax, he'd yanked a badge from his belt without ever breaking stride.&nbsp; <br><br>That had been before the biting, though.&nbsp; It wasn't a love nip – she could still feel the pain of it at her collar, where he'd pulled her back by the hair and sunk his teeth into her, just as his seed started to course into her.&nbsp; Any thoughts about an absent condom had been secondary to the realization that his teeth had actually broken through skin, torn through muscle.&nbsp; <br><br>Then, the pain had started.&nbsp; The mere memory of it had sent another round of agony coursing through her system, another seizure where it felt like arteries and veins were bursting inside of her.&nbsp; The car skidded into a turn, sliding sideways before coming to a halt.&nbsp; She heard the door slam open, then the one at her feet opened a moment later, and the sexual superman with the dark, mysterious eyes and the troubled smile was leaning over her, scooping her up like she was a feather pillow instead ofa full grown woman, and running across a carefully tended lawn.&nbsp; He hefted her onto one arm for a moment, banging on a door like the British marched on Lexington and Concord, and gave a growl that made his chest rumble where she was nestled against it.<br><br>Another spasm tore through her, and he held her as her body seemed to try to tear itself apart once more.&nbsp; “CHAIRMAN!” he roared, tensing and then kicking the door inward.&nbsp; It didn't merely snap out the lock – the oak door smashed off its hinges and to the ground.&nbsp; &nbsp; “CHAIRMAN GODDAMMIT I NEED SOME HELP!”&nbsp; He shutled her within a stately, wood finished parlor and to a dark leather couch, sliding her on to it and standing straight.&nbsp; <br><br>“Chairman!” he called again, and a calm voice answered.<br><br>“I'm here, Sebastian.”&nbsp; She saw a white-haired man out of the corner of her eyes, a robe wrapped around his body.&nbsp; He pulled it tighter, moving to kneel next to her.&nbsp; <br><br>“We were – I lost control and I - “<br><br>The white-haired man slid the blanket away, looking at the bloody bite mark on her shoulder as another spasm tore the air from her lungs and made her spine bow.&nbsp; “I <em>see</em> what you did,” he snapped.&nbsp; “Wolfsbane, powdered silver, fresh water – they're in my study.&nbsp; <em>Go.</em>”<br><br>Sebastian bristled.&nbsp; The white-haired man's gaze slid from her shoulder, to the man who loomed over them both.&nbsp; “Do you want to save her life or not?&nbsp; <em>Go.</em>”<br><br>He was off like a lightning bolt.
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SakiaWarner</strong> on <strong>16-02-2013, 17:30:19</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/f/fc/Evanleigh.jpg/417px-Evanleigh.jpg)</div>“Look at him Katie, he’s so far out of my league but … his eyes are haunting.”<br><br>“Go say hello Evan, what is the worst that can happen?”<br><br>Evanleigh wasn’t sure she’d ever forget those words after what she was experiencing. The pain that surged through her body was nothing she had ever even had concept of. She felt as if her muscles and tendons were being ripped apart from the inside, twisted and knotted into something else, something they weren’t meant to be. Her scream echoed in her head along with the squeal of tires and her body rolling with the force of it.<br><br>One night stands were not her thing, but she’d been accepted into the doctoral program at the University. She needed to let loose and a night of drinking and man watching with Katie had seemed a great idea. Going up to the blue eyed hunk she’d spotted across the bar had seemed like a good idea as well. When he pulled her close to him, burying his nose into her neck it had sent a shiver of excitement through her that she’d never felt before. He was so strong, his hold on her was possessive and that had sent her better judgment the way of the dinosaurs. For once in her life she would take a chance, do something spontaneous and stop worrying about the consequences or what might happen when morning came.<br><br>A scream tore from her throat as she felt him lift her from the leather seat of the car they’d been in. She didn’t know what kind of car it was, only that all she could smell was him and her own terror. She never knew terror had a smell, or a taste for that matter.<br><br>His voice sounded so scared, so full of fear, panic and she tried to lift her hand to silence him but her limbs didn’t belong to her anymore. They refused to move, her body locked in spasms of pain, twisting and contorting out of her control. She felt her own tears sliding down her face, the heat of them streaking over her skin but it was short lived before the pain bowed her back and she shrieked.<br><br>He’d bent her over the hood of the car without so much as a “do you want this?” She did want it but being asked might have been nice too. That first thrust of his hips, when he filled her made her raise to her toes, stole her breath and left her body shaking. It was rough, primal almost and she found herself begging him for more. She grit her teeth as he pounded her into the hood of the car and right as she found herself on the edge of orgasm, the flash of blue and red made her head snap over to the police car. She caught the flash of silver, the badge and then they were gone and she forgot everything as he brought her screaming.<br><br>She felt him running, carrying her limp body, each time he moved it jarred her, made her moan, the pain surging through her like a raging fire that wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t cry, couldn’t move from the paralyzing pain. She prayed for death, she wanted it to end, the pain had to stop.<br><br>His breath had been so hot on her neck, his teeth teasing her skin as she shook from her orgasm. He whispered in her ear, or was it a growl? She couldn’t remember but she remembered the second orgasm creeping up on her, the press of his tongue and then he groaned, a feral sound she’d never heard and he bit her. It wasn’t a love bite, a nip.. he bit her, sinking his teeth into her collarbone, tearing flesh, leaving hot blood flowing down her front. And even in all of it, she was lost between pleasure and pain. It made no sense.<br><br>She heard another male voice and she was sat down, finally there was no movement, but the pain, it never stopped.<br><br>She writhed on the floor, hearing their words but none of them made sense, nothing mattered. She begged God to kill her, begged Him to end her pain. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw his face once more, those tortured blue eyes gazing at her in fear and worry and then in an answer to her prayers, blackness washed over her and the pain was gone.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>16-02-2013, 20:55:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a2/Sebastian21.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i.usatoday.net/communitymanager/_photos/lifeline-live/2010/07/08/johnslatteryx-large.jpg)</div><br>The darkness was brief.&nbsp; There was a moment of reprieve, and then she was waking to foul liquid in a hand carved wooden bowl forcing its way down her throat.&nbsp; It was thick as soup, and the white haired men held it to her lips, holding her head up with one man.&nbsp; She could still feel the pain just on the horizon.&nbsp; The blue-eyed man watched over her, hands clenched into fists, and after a moment the white haired man leaned back, taking the bowl and the hot, thick contents with it.&nbsp; <br><br>He frowned, concerned, and looked up to the blue eyed man who hovered over her.&nbsp; <br><br>"Get her downstairs.&nbsp; Now.&nbsp; Before the change."&nbsp; <br><br>The blue-eyed man nodded, reaching to scoop her up, then hoisted her into the air.&nbsp; He jogged with her again, as another seizure of pain flared, followed by blackness.<br><br>Then there were only dreams.<br><br><em>The moon hung high in the sky, as the scent of hare and caribou drifted over snow packed so hard and dense it crunched beneath her paws but didn't crack.&nbsp; The wind through her fur was cold and sharp, and the smell of the fleeing caribou made her nose tingle with the fear and terror.&nbsp; Muscles flexed, and she sailed gracefully through the air, the sharp claws tearing through a column on flesh, spraying scarlet across the snow.&nbsp; The caribou fell with a groan, legs still kicking, and then she was tasting muscle, blood, marrow and organ as her muzzle dug into the fallen prey.<br><br>Her head tipped back in a howl, and her the long, lonely sound echoed and reverberated&nbsp; across tall, jagged mountains tipped with snow.&nbsp; Her victory sounded through the evergreens, and other howls rose up in answer.</em><br><br>She awoke in a stone cellar - there was the smell of old casks and wine, sweat and blood.&nbsp; The stone floor was uncomfortable and cool on her bare skin.&nbsp; There were deep furrows slashed into the brick, across the single metal door .&nbsp; The cellar was completely empty - not a single piece of furniture, not a painting on the walls.&nbsp; There were old stains on the cellar floor - dark brown stains, and her nose could make out the scent of long dried blood that had soaked into the granite of the foundation.<br><br>There wasn't a stitch of clothing on her, either.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SakiaWarner</strong> on <strong>17-02-2013, 19:06:00</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/f/fc/Evanleigh.jpg/417px-Evanleigh.jpg)</div>The very first thing she noticed was how cold she was, followed by the fact that she was naked, laying on a cold cement floor. <br>Instantly alert, she sat up, finding that her sense of smell was so intense that all she could smell was dirt and old blood. She had to concentrate to focus on the other scents, the water, the mildew, the scent of sweat and maybe even sex. She stood and stretched her legs, finding that she felt good, better than good she felt strong, very aware of her surroundings. She could hear birds outside, could hear dogs barking but it was so distant that it was hard to pinpoint exactly where they were. Then it dawned on her.<br><br><em>She wasn’t in pain.</em><br><br>The pain was gone and she felt better than she had in years. She moved around the room, stretching her legs, waving her arms. She grinned, feeling silly for doing so, but she couldn’t help herself.<br><br>Carefully she moved to the door that seemed as if it had it’s share of stories to tell, claw marks and scratches lined it and she was almost afraid to think of what caused them. It was that thought that brought the dreams back, the hunt, chasing down the animal, the thrill of running, the prey falling under her weight, the blood rushing between her teeth and down her face. She remembered the feeling of joy that came with it, the freedom of it.<br><br>Not wasting time, she moved to the door, pounding on it with a closed fist.<br>“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?” she yelled.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>17-02-2013, 20:03:04</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.usatoday.net/communitymanager/_photos/lifeline-live/2010/07/08/johnslatteryx-large.jpg)</div><br>The hard knock on the door got someone's attention, and she could hear movement above her - even trace the directions the footsteps took, crossing back and forth.&nbsp; She could also smell food - a lasagna, it smelled like, and just the scent in her nostrils made her acutely aware that it had been... some time since she'd last eaten, some time tince she'd had anything to wet her throat.&nbsp; <br><br>There was no mark at her neck, though - the whole bite could feel like a mad dream if it wasn't for the dried blood still crusted on her collar.&nbsp; <br><br>"Just a minute," called a voice, from the top of a stairwell that led down to her small prison.&nbsp; She could hear the creak of every step, even through the door, and then he was just outside it.&nbsp; "Step back from the door, please," he called, his voice polite.&nbsp; He pushed open the door with shoulder an hip, carrying a tray.&nbsp; His hair was white, his face creased with age, yet there was still a youthful vigor in the way he moved.&nbsp; There was a meaty lasagna on the tray, and the smells were exquisite - she could make out the homemade mozzarella - even to note that the milk itself was purely organic - the freshness of hand rolled pasta, tomato in the marinara that smelled as if they might have been plucked from the vine hours before.&nbsp; The cider that accompanied it was similarly brewed.<br><br>The white-haired man from the night before, and he offered her the tray, as well as a silken bathrobe that had been slung over his arm.<br><br>"I apologize about your clothes... we took them off so you wouldn't destroy them.&nbsp; I never got your name in ... all the confusion."
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SakiaWarner</strong> on <strong>10-03-2013, 22:05:30</strong>
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				The scent of the food made her stomach turn and growl, reminding her just how hungry she was. She gazed at the unfamiliar face just a moment before taking the robe to quickly tie it around her. <br>"Evanleigh" she said as she watched him warily at first but something about him gave her the sense of&nbsp; security. She looked around, her nose picking up scents that she might never have noticed before. The pasta, the cheese, the sauce, each of them so easy to determine from the other. It was like her senses were on overdrive. <br><br>She took the tray and sat down to eat it. She was too hungry to ask too many questions at first, but her eyes lifted after a few bites to the white haired stranger.<br><br>"Who are you? And how the heck did I end up here?" she asked but even in those questions the glimpses and images of her past nights played through her mind.<br><br>"Is Sebastian here?" she asked before sipping the cider that was given to her. She tore into the food once more. It was delicious and she couldn't help but be amazed at how quickly it was calming her hunger.
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>11-03-2013, 01:30:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.usatoday.net/communitymanager/_photos/lifeline-live/2010/07/08/johnslatteryx-large.jpg)</div><br>The white haired man smiled.&nbsp; “A lovely name,” he offered.&nbsp; He looked carefully away while she slipped on the robe and tied it close&nbsp; &nbsp;It wasn't until she was modestly robed again that he handed over the tray, sinking down to the ground and lightly crossing his legs.&nbsp; He let her eat, smiling at her voracity, but taking it as a mark of her hunger over an appreciation for his cuisine.&nbsp; He watched the food disappear, and offered, “There's more up in the kitchen.”<br><br>“My name is Tal.&nbsp; Most call me the Chairman.&nbsp; I'm the... head of a small community we have here.”&nbsp; He tilted his head slightly, watching a moment of darkness and memory cross over her eyes.&nbsp; “A very... unique community.”<br><br>He sighed, and shook his head.&nbsp; “No.&nbsp; Once he knew you were going to live, he left.&nbsp; He thought it would be better for you if he did.”&nbsp; He pressed his lips together, thoughtful, his eyes searching her face as she focused on the food.<br><br>“Do you know what happened last night?&nbsp; Do you remember it?”&nbsp; His words were gentle, soft – almost as if he expected her to deny it, or have repressed it.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SakiaWarner</strong> on <strong>11-03-2013, 01:41:55</strong>
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				She was surprised at how hungry she was and even more shocked when he said there was more, because she'd eaten all of it. She smiled and looked at him. "Thanks"<br><br>His words filtered into her mind, not quite sure what to make of the "unique community" remark.&nbsp; She watched his easy manner and found him to be likeable and she also didn't sense any kind of ill intent. She was comfortable around him.<br><br>Her heart sank a little when he said Sebastian was gone. She wasn't really sure why, but it was a disappointment none the less. <br><br>She thought a moment on his last question, trying to piece things together but they were such a blur.<br><br>"It's more like flashes and glimpses of things. I remember Sebastian, meeting him in the bar... ummm... " her face flushed a deep red then as she looked down, thinking of their rendezvous on the hood of the car that even then made her body tighten in places, "I was hurt, so badly, I thought I might die, and then I dreamed of running in the woods, of... dogs.. no.. no dogs... wolves." she said as the images became a bit clearer as she thought on them, "Well just a wolf, and hunting...the wolf was hunting" she said and then sighed.<br>"Now I feel ... strange, I can smell things and hear things... especially smell things" her eyes lifted to meet his then. "What is going on? Why am I even here? "<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: 1839 Arkham Court (SakiaWarner &amp; Ciosa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>11-03-2013, 03:22:48</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i961.photobucket.com/albums/ae94/Heart-of-Some/Random%20Items/Clear-Ice-Rose.jpg)</div>He took the tray, and offered her a hand, guiding her up the steps.&nbsp; It seemed she wasn't in a basement, but rather a subbasement, built two floors beneath the ground.&nbsp; Yet still she could hear birds outside.&nbsp; They passed a closed door marked 'lab,' and the smell of dried flowers and strange elements – mercury, maybe – drifted from beneath the door.&nbsp; <br><br>He listened to her answer, rouning the last flight of steps to the kitchen, were the smell of more of the homemade pasta lingered in the air.&nbsp; He smiled lightly at the blush – a sure signal he had an idea what she'd been up to.&nbsp; But he moved past it, setting her up another plate of the filling Italian while she deliberated over her dream.<br><br>“Well, for now you're here for your safety.&nbsp; Last night, you were here for everyone else's safety.&nbsp; The room you were in was designed to keep a … frenzying werewolf contained.&nbsp; And that's not easy to do.”<br><br>He rubbed at his forehead.&nbsp; “Do you remember shifting, changing?&nbsp; Something inside of you trying to claw free?”<br><br>He paused, and licked his lips.&nbsp; “I just realized I might have glossed right over the werewolf thing.”&nbsp; he smiled apologetically, and raised his fingers.&nbsp; In a moment, the air cooled, and with a pop it began to crystallize, snowflakes between his fingers, swirling in a nexus, a cyclone, before suddenly fusing together.<br><br>In his hands he held a rose of pure ice, and he offered it to her, setting it on the countertop top as if he hadn't just literally conjured it from thin air.&nbsp; “The world is a... stranger place than most know.”
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