That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose & arkhos)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Gypsy on 12-12-2013, 23:50:16</h2>
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				Title: <strong>That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>12-12-2013, 23:50:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div>Eyes closed, Jazelle inhaled the warm, scented air of King Bertrand IV's private chambers, leaning back against the luxurious fabric of his personal chair, where she imagined that he sat in the mornings, getting his beard trimmed, his hair combed, and his royal boots eased with great care upon the royal feet ... where he lounged in the evenings after a long day at court before slipping off to the innocent slumber of the just in the royal master bed ... perhaps where he even indulged in other pleasures that had she been in a catty mood she might have named to the air just for the sheer enjoyment of imagining the look on the face of the king's prissy and proper valet in the hearing.<br><br>Few places in the castle were closed to her now, but for the most part, the succubus did not impose upon the king's graces.&nbsp; They had reached an accord that, in some respects, depended upon mutual respect - and while the king was far too obsessed with minutiae to truly hold her interest for long, she was intelligent enough to know it was a very good quality in a king when combined with perspective.&nbsp; It was somewhat satisfying to know that she had at least played some small part in his transformation.&nbsp; The succubus had always had an appreciation for a job well done, even when she had doubts that the job was worth doing ... and perhaps this one even was. <br><br>Her eyes remained closed, her arms idly splayed behind her head, fingers closed against the intricate carvings of the chair's ornate base, as she heard the door open, and Bertrand's confident footsteps falter for just half a pace as he spied her, as she had intended, and the door close firmly behind him.<br><br>"Haven't I asked you not to do that?" Bertrand's voice was exasperated more than angry, and Jazelle stretched lazily, knowing his eyes would follow the movement, before she opened her eyes and rose, dipping into a graceful curtsy in her oh-so-proper lady's gown.&nbsp; <br><br>She sighed smilingly, her shoulders raising in a negligent little gesture that drew just the right amount of attention to her confined bosom. <em> "I thought you would want this transaction conducted far away from prying eyes.&nbsp; Should I have had myself announced instead?"</em><br><br>Bertram snorted, then reluctantly smiled as his eyes obeyed her unspoken wishes, even without any magical inducement.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps he was a fool, ensorcelled by her demonic magics, but maddening as she was, she had not played him false even to the smallest extent.&nbsp; That was something that he could not in confidence believe about the vast majority of the nobles and advisors who had sworn oaths of loyalty and fealty to the kingdom.&nbsp; Most of the likely justified their treacheries with the thought that he, Bertrand, was not the kingdom ... it was a subtlety he hadn't fully understood prior to the unexpected gift that had been left in his chambers over a year before.<br><br>"Did you bring it?" he asked, surely an unnecessary question, but one that he could not deny himself the weakness of asking.<br><br>Her expressive gesture with her eyes echoed the ridiculousness of the query.&nbsp; <em>"Of course, your highness." </em> It also led his eyes straight to the ornately carved puzzle box where she had placed it upon his dressing table.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"I could have delivered it myself, you know," </em>she said mildly, noting both the signs of the stirring of the king's loins - really, leggings were a vulgar fashion phase that led to clumsy exaggeration and eventual disappointment all too often - as well as his discomfort.&nbsp; She knew the reasons why she shouldn't, and had ascertained during previous discussions that the king agreed with the reasoning, but the gentle prodding would allow him the opportunity to dispense with doubts and and express his strength and decisiveness.&nbsp; It would have been better had he not needed it, but it was a tremendous improvement all the same.&nbsp; <br><br>"No.&nbsp; It needs to be this way.&nbsp; I'll do what needs be done, never fear." And he would - even chancing that the course he was about to embark upon would either cement his most trusted general's loyalty, or shatter it.&nbsp; Things had progressed to the point that the only course open to his poor, beleaguered country was all out war, or an an alliance -- and either might send them all to the abyss.<br><br>"He will not be ... injured ... will he?"&nbsp; The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, but he saw no scorn in the succubus' eyes, and no anger or even hurt.<br><br>Instead, she smiled almost gently, and answered in a voice barely above a whisper, the question an answer in and of itself.&nbsp; <em>"Were you injured, highness?"</em><br><br>Bertrand closed his eyes, a shiver traveling down his body as he allowed himself the memory, for just a moment before pushing it away with a sigh. &nbsp;"No.&nbsp; No, I was not."<br><br>When his eyes opened, the succubus was gone, leaving only the faint scent of her perfume to waft under his nostrils ... and the case containing the gift that he would present to Duncan as a token of his gratitude for exemplary service.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-12-2013, 18:16:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>For once, Duncan Vanzell stood alone. The night had started out promising enough, the gala celebration commemorating the Battle of Antrim one year to the day had started out lively and festive. Wine, food, and song were in abundance, and the King had paid a 'king's ransom' (or so it was rumored) in order to convince the famous bard Tallon Stringfellow to attend and perform for the celebration. There had been a large selection of beautiful ladies present, as well, and many had cast their eyes towards Duncan with longing looks, and as usual he had assumed he'd be leaving with one of them tonight. Perhaps two. Or... three.<br><br>But that night had not gone as planned. No sooner had the celebration began in earnest when one of Duncan's lieutenants found him with urgent news. Stepping aside, the lieutenant filled him in on the details of the situation, and it was all Duncan could do to keep from raging impotently at the lieutenant or any other unlucky soul close enough for him to throttle. So, the Harandians had crossed the Silversheen river, as provocative an action as they had taken in the past year since the armistice was signed. How ironic it was that the enemy threatened to take back the very city that Duncan and his people were celebrating the capture of, one year later? <br><br>War was coming. Duncan knew it, he could -smell- it. His men knew it, as well, and he was fairly certain the king knew it. But glancing around the ballroom, one would never guess that the nobility knew it. They celebrated to excess as if they had not a care in the world, as if peace was free and simply the given status quo. So few of them remembered the sacrifices the army made in order to maintain that peace, and it appeared that fragile peace was about to be shattered soon enough, regardless.<br><br>He hated it - Duncan hated the fighting, the blood, and the conflict. When he was merely a boy of 17, it was -different- then. He had much to prove, glory to be gained, seed to sow, and he was eager to have it all. Now, nearly twenty winters later, even though he was physically at his height still, his mind was simply ready for a period of peace. What was the longest he had known peace? A year? Perhaps two? He was weary of it all, but his King needed him, and so he stayed.<br><br>Duncan stewed to himself, off to the side, out of sight for the most part from the other revelers. He had brushed off several attempts at conversation - even with the ladies - as he contemplated how he would address the King once he was available. For the better part of an hour, the King entertained the attentions of various noble-born men and women - all of them itching to kiss his royal ass for a pat on the head or perhaps some small sign of favor. Pathetic, all of them - it was one of the various reasons Duncan enjoyed drinking their wine, eating their food - and fucking their women.<br><br>But not tonight. He had no stomach for food, nor any carnal appetite at the moment. That only made him -more- anxious, for he was almost -never- without an appetite for a woman. All he could stand now was wine, and that was merely just enough to soothe his impatience and take the edge off his nervs. The last thing he needed was to get tipsy and say something he might regret for a long time.<br><br>Finally, though, the King seemed unoccupied, and Duncan made his move. Approaching the King, Duncan politely bowed his head with respect.<br><br>"Your majesty. I beg a word with you on a matter of grave importance - in private," he said.<br><br>King Bertrand glanced at his general and friend for a long moment, as if weighing in his mind whether he wanted to hear Duncan's words or not. "If your concerns are of a sort that would dampen this atmosphere, might it wait until the morning?" he asked. But even though it was in the form of a question, as with most things dealing with the King, it was more a command than a request. But Duncan felt that he could not afford to wait.<br><br>"No, your majesty. The matter is quite urgent."<br><br>King Bertrand sighed, his festive smile fading quickly. "Very well, then," he said, "To the library. We can speak there." Without awaiting a response from Duncan, the King turned and began to walk away, Duncan close behind. Duncan witnessed several of the King's advisers giving the general dirty looks, as if to condemn him for ruining the King's cheerful mood. Obviously when the King was happy, most everyone else was pleased, as well.<br><br>Down a short hall the pair walked, and through a set of large ornate oaken double-doors they strode. Duncan closed them behind him, allowing the two a moment of privacy. Normally Bertrand would be flanked by guards, or at the very least guards would be outside the door. But he trusted Duncan implicitly.<br><br>"Alright then, what is it that could not wait until morning?" the King asked, his voice deep and demanding.<br><br>"My lord... The Harandians have crossed the Silversheen. They are within four day's march of Antrim. I believe they are eager to retake it," he said bluntly.<br><br>The King grew quiet for a moment, considering the words closely. "And this information is accurate?" he asked after a long pause.<br><br>Duncan nodded. "Yes, my lord. My own scouts watch the borders in all directions, but most -definitely- to the west. Harandia is not so willing to allow Antrim to remain in our hands, I fear."<br><br>"And the size of this force?" the King asked. <br><br>Duncan paused - the estimates had varied wildly, so he decided to answer conservatively. "A thousand swords, my lord."<br><br>The King sighed, and slowly his smile returned. "A thousand? That is all? Duncan, I think your fears are getting the best of you. A thousand is not nearly enough to retake the city. Our garrison is nearly that big, behind reinforced walls along with archers and knights."<br><br>"Yes my King, but-...."<br><br>"But nothing," Bertrand cut in, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Today is a day of celebration. YOUR celebration, in fact! You -took- that god-forsaken city from them at the cost of much blood, from both sides. They will not so foolishly attack, especially since the Harandians agreed to marry one of their daughters to the Duke of Antrim's youngest son."<br><br>"A marriage that means nothing, if they could retake the city," Duncan said.<br><br>The King gave Duncan a disapproving look. If it had been anyone else that cut in, there would likely have been punishment involved. "Duncan... you worry too much. All is well, and you should be enjoying a well-deserved rest. In fact, that is why I got you a special gift."<br><br>Duncan sighed. "My King, now is not the time for gifts. Now is the time to -<em>act</em>-. The nobles pretend that everything is well, but tensions with Harandia have never relaxed - if anything, they've only gotten -worse-. They probe our lines all along the Silversheen daily. They hold a deep anger in their heart for us, because of the land we took from them, and Antrim is the jewel of that land."<br><br>The King shook his head. "Duncan. You need to have faith in our diplomats. They have visited Harandia and they assure us that all is going as planned. When the wedding is completed next month, Harandia will be an -ally- of ours. They wouldn't dare to attack us for that tiny plot of land with only a single city as the real prize. Now, stop this nonsense. Trust in our diplomacy. Not all battles are won with swords and bloodshed," the King declared.<br><br>Duncan sighed. He knew if he pressed too hard, the King would simply push back all the more, and perhaps even snap. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to convince the King of anything tonight.<br><br>The King stepped forward, raising his hands to rest on Duncan's shoulders. He gave his general a long look. "Duncan - how long have we been comrades... and friends?"<br><br>Duncan raised his eyes to meet Bertrand's. "Nearly twenty winters, my King."<br><br>Bertrand nodded. "You have served me longer than most, and faithfully as well. Not in all those years have I ever given you a gift like the one I bring you tonight. It rests in a box in your chambers, and should not be opened until midnight. It is something that I believe you have been in need of for a long time, my friend," he said, giving Duncan a faint smile. He glanced at Duncan for a long moment and sighed, seeing his general still appearing agitated.<br><br>"Duncan, if you are going to sulk, then I shall make you this offer: enjoy this evening. Revel in the celebration of your accomplishments from a year ago. Drink and be merry. But when the songs begin to fade and the drink begins to dry up, return to your quarters and enjoy your gift. Then, in the morning, if you still feel as you do now - we shall make some arrangements to tend to your concerns. Is that not the offer of a reasonable King?" he asked with a slightly indignant tone. <br><br>Duncan sighed, slightly mollified - and nodded his head gravely. "Of course, my King, quite generous. But still - a gift was not necessary. I simply did my duty, as did those who fought beside me that day on the field - many of whom never returned."<br><br>The King nodded, a faint smile on his lips as he gently squeezed both of Duncan's shoulders. "I know, and their sacrifices will never be forgotten. I promise you," he said. "Now, take this," he added, reaching into his robes and pulling forth a small ornate iron key. "It will unlock the gift waiting in your room. But remember - not before midnight," he said. "For now - I have a party to attend to, and plenty of young damsels with rumps that need pinched," he said, his cheery demeanor quickly returning. He headed for the door and opened it, stepping through it. Then, the King paused and turned about.<br><br>"That key you hold," he said, nodding toward the key in Duncan's hand, "Is a key in more ways than one. I have a feeling that it will unlock all of your greatest desires," he nearly purred with a cryptic grin, then turned and was gone. <br><br>Duncan remained in the library, looking down at the odd key for many long moments. Their world stood on the brink of war, and the King, as usual, was more concerned about parties and drinking and merry-making - and apparently gifts, as well. With a sigh of resignation, Duncan pocketed the key and moved to return to the ballroom, too dutiful to leave early, but too agitated to truly enjoy himself.<br><br>* ** **&nbsp; &nbsp;***&nbsp; * <br>The celebration was still going strong at midnight, and he only knew that it was midnight because he saw the changing of the guards at the entryways to the ballroom. Duncan had spent his time in brief conversation with various people, putting on his best 'face' in front of the nobility. He had turned down several offers of companionship from various women, one of which was from a rather drunken rotund woman who he -believed- to be the King's cousin. As easily as sidestepping an onrushing swordsman, Duncan had dodged her advances, as well. <br><br>He quickly retreated, then, to his chambers. Duncan had done his best to simply forget about the gift, but it had nagged at him all throughout the evening, popping back up in his mind here and there. Duncan knew that the King was usually -very- generous with gift-giving, at least when the mood struck him, and judging by the King's words from his own lips, this gift promised to be quite special.<br><br>Up to his chambers he went, and when he entered there was a fire already burning in the hearth. It cast a warm glow about the room - spacious and luxurious, it possessed a balcony, as well as a separate bathing room complete with an enormous copper tub. Magical stones were used to fill the tub with water when desired, and Duncan was told that there were only four sets of them in the King's possession. Duncan had been graced with one of those sets many years ago as a birthday gift. It had been yet another example of the King's generosity.<br><br>Glancing around the room, his eyes were drawn to his huge four-poster bed. There, sitting atop the blanket that covered the silk-lined mattress was a plain-looking box. Duncan closed the door behind him, then slowly approached the bed. Looking down at the box, he kicked off his boots and pulled his silken dress-shirt up and over his head, casually tossing it aside for the maid to collect later. The box was made of metal, he realized, though the design was simple. No larger than a helmet would be, Duncan carefully picked it up - it was heavy, made of lead, he believed - durable and solid. He turned it this way and that, but found no other discernible marks on its surface.<br><br>Setting the box back down on the bed, he drew forth the key from the pocket of his breeches and and gave it a look, then gave the box a look, as well. He had no idea what he was -really- waiting for, other than the fact that he was enjoying the curiosity of it all. But moments later, his desire to know what awaited him inside overcame his curiosity, and he lowered the key to the box and slipped it into the hole. Turning it slowly, there was no sound other than the crackle of the burning wood in the fireplace, and the faintest 'click' when the lock was undone.<br><br>Duncan gently raised the lid up and back, and peered within.<br><br>The inside of the small box was lined with blood-red velvet, and within the box rested a single item: a leather collar attached to a long chain of beautiful silver links. Duncan blinked for a moment, unmoving. Of all the things he might have thought would be found in the box, this was likely one of the last things he would have guessed. Carefully, he reached a hand inside and retrieved the collar, pulling it from from its plush home.<br><br>Slowly, Duncan walked towards the fireplace where the light was brighter. His eyes glued to the collar, he stared at the silver links, noting how perfectly cast they were. There were absolutely no signs of the gaps that normal links of mail had. These were perfect in shape and quality. By contrast, the leather had a somewhat worn look to it, but it gave off an almost comforting feel, which was odd given its nature and appearance.<br><br>Brow furrowed, Duncan took a closer look, but his eyes weren't needed - the longer he simply held the collar, the more he realized the item was -enchanted-, which totally caught him by surprise. What sort of enchantment would such an item provide? What sorts of powers would it grant? Duncan was not schooled in the way of wizards, but he knew that it could offer anything from the power to change the color of his hair, to the ability to -fly-.<br><br>But did the collar have some other significance? Was the King trying to -tell- Duncan something?<em> ~You are my war-dog, to loose upon an enemy when I command. Heel and obey, Duncan...~</em> Was that the message the King was trying to send him?<br><br>For a long moment, Duncan considered tossing the collar back into the box and stashing it away. He'd thank the King later, of course, for such a beautiful gift - but he surely wouldn't wear it. Glancing at it, though, seeing how the firelight reflected off of it, and reminding himself that there was some enchantment about it, his curiosity gnawed at him thoroughly. Finally, he decided that he simply had to find out what it was. If the power it granted was silly, he'd simply stash the box away and forget about it.<br><br>Duncan moved over to stand in front of his full-length mirror and raised the collar up to his throat. He fastened it with only a small delay, feeling the clips slip into place with ease. He stood there, then, observing himself in the mirror. Well over six feet tall, with a muscular build, black hair and dark eyes, he knew he was handsome, and he enjoyed turning heads. He now wore only his black breeches of silk, the rest of his garb already discarded. He hated such clothing, but tonight's festivities called for such things.<br><br>And now he wore the collar, eying it in the mirror, turning his head this way and that to get a better look...<br><br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>15-12-2013, 16:35:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><br>Time was a difficult concept for the succubus.&nbsp; Ordinarily, she had little concept of its passage - seasons could pass unnoticed unless some some event provided a reference point and made her aware ... allowed her focus.&nbsp; Those earliest memories, if such the disjointed flashes could be termed, she preferred not to think about, and if time passed it meant little.&nbsp; She had learned, and she had served, and when that shining moment of chance had presented itself like a searing beacon, a tolling bell, she had seized it and drew herself up from the abyss.&nbsp; She learned of choices and consequence, slavery and freedom.&nbsp; While she was what she was, she had become that which she had not been.<br><br>It was enough.<br><br>She had only truly come to the understanding of time when life grew within her, held it beneath her heart and felt the first awareness of consciousness apart from herself.&nbsp; Sixteen years had passed like breaths, and Jazelle's understanding of the concept grew in the imparting of knowledge and experience, the span of of a lifetime condensed into two short seasons.<br><br>There was time; there was also purpose.<br><br>She waited in the darkness, lounging lazily.&nbsp; Her heart beat slowly, and her breaths barely stirred the lush flesh fashioned from the lusts of mortal men.&nbsp; When the box was delivered, she sat up straight, feeling the nothingness around her stir and coalesce, forming itself to her purpose - a chair, reminiscent of the one in the king's chamber supporting her form as her fingers closed around the carved wooden arms.&nbsp; &nbsp;She sucked the air in between parted lips, tasted the scent of him upon her tongue, and shuddered in delight as the bold flavors of his discarded lusts washed over her.<br><br>When he held the key in his hands, the walls took shape and began to glow.&nbsp; Jazelle's eyes opened, and she smiled lazily, her hands slipping up to cup full breasts and squeeze before traveling down her body in anticipation of the hours that lay ahead.<br><br>The time between midnight and the first cock crow - a few precious hours to impart wisdom, to tear down walls and learn to fly, to fashion a fortress out of the scattered bricks with windows to let in the light.&nbsp; It was a tiny, tiny sliver of time, and yet lives could be destroyed or created in much less.&nbsp; In those hours, a man could be transported from the depths of agony to heights of ecstasy, and emerge unscathed ... or forever changed.<br><br>It was ... a lifetime.&nbsp; It would be enough.<br><br>The glow of the walls became silvered moonlight, streaming in from deep, arched windows that offered a view of starlight skies and the distant sea, a lighthouse in the distance a golden spark like a candle.&nbsp; From far below, the soft crash of water upon the rocks roared like the rush of lifesblood.&nbsp; The air took upon itself the damp tang of salt.&nbsp; Upon one wall, twin fireplaces blazed with blue-yellow flames, softening the chill.&nbsp; Silver mirrors inter-spaced the chest-height windows, cloudy glass panes in diamond patterns were held in black steel frames, and gauzy iridescent curtains fluttered in the breeze where two windows opened opposite the ridiculously large black-steel framed bed.<br><br>The bed's headboard was shaped like the huge, ornate doors of the king's court great hall, and two large, thick steel rings represented those used to throw wide those doors when the king received dignitaries or opened his doors to hear less exalted grievances.&nbsp; These rings, however, served only one purpose - to receive the chain that affixed to the lovely, enchanted collar that would soon adorn the stubborn, unyielding, delicious neck of General Duncan Vanzell.<br><br>Up high, well beyond normal reach, various of her treasures were displayed -- shields, weapons, works of art depicting men and women, elves and sylphs, satyrs and other creatures that rarely graced the mortal world, all engaged in sensual delights, lovely faces made transcendent by any number of pleasures both exotic and mundane.<br><br>Glass-doored cabinets and tables held a variety of other treasures -- exquisitely carved figurines, delightful toys and devices from some of the cleverest craftsmen from all walks and races who did not confine themselves to mundane utalitarianism, clay and glass jars and sachets which contained herbal and alchemical concoctions that enhanced the senses and faculties -- temptations and delights, from the kind that would barely bring a blush to a vestal virgin's cheeks to some that would surely enliven the darkest dreams of the most puritanical celibate.<br><br>She surveyed the results, then walked slowly around the chamber, making minute physical corrections, her fingers sliding over trinkets with sensual appreciation.&nbsp; The right first impression -- particularly when one had only a proscribed bit of this time in which to work -- was important.<br><br>For the infamous general, she had created an airy cell, a spacious prison that could free the soul without offering even the slightest chance of physical escape -- a lofty tower upon the crags.&nbsp; A feast for his senses, the view of the stars, moonlight glinting upon the waves impossibly far below, the scent of pine and aspen and sea salt, of incense and the slight char of burning wood that would also enter his mouth and tantalize his taste as he argued, breathed, kissed.&nbsp; For his touch, worn solid wood, weathered to a gray not unlike stone, ringing a central core of jet-black marble shot through with veins of red and blue-violet, reminiscent of the network of veins that carried the lifesblood through the body, rugs of the finest, softest fur and wool in front of her makeshift throne, and the bed.&nbsp; And for his spirit .. she had the mirrors ... and, of course, herself.<br><br>As the general left the feast, she marked his passage as the key jingled in his pocket, was gripped by his hand, rested upon his thigh.&nbsp; She had left the last, and most important, task for last, and she took care of it by hand, her only surge of will that which propelled her body and hands.&nbsp; She dressed herself, first in brief garments of soft, knitted lace - a camisole that struggled to contain the bounty of her full breasts, a lace underskirt that hugged her hips and would do little more than draw the general's attention to curve and shadow when her outer clothing were removed.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she drew the garments over her skin, they scratched it delightfully, almost like the rasping of a rough tongue, and she allowed herself the luxury of anticipation, picturing the general's dark, unruly curls moving over her until a slow shiver rippled over the muscled lines of her stomach before returning to the task of attiring herself to properly receive her guest, her pupil, her fulcrum upon which, all unwitting, destiny would pivot.<br><br>By the time the Duncan's hand closed around the lined leather of the collar, she was dressed.&nbsp; A tight, disciplined bodice of leather emphasized her waist and the feminine shape of her body, bare arms and shoulders bold and almost delicate in appearance, with the hint of lace softening the line of her cleavage ... strong ties that secured the garment, which she would enjoy having him undo.&nbsp; Boots of supple black leather, intricately secured with a hook and lace design, and with a strong, high heel that had almost caused the shoemaker an apoplexy when she had insisted upon its incorporation into the design, gave her a bit more height and swagger to her walk.&nbsp; The leather skirt was her favorite, long soft panels with ties to control how much they revealed or concealed offering an unashamed view of strong, smoothly tanned thighs as she admired her reflection in the mirror, waiting for the moment when temptation would turn from teasing tendrils-like caresses to an iron, irresistible grip.<br><br>It did not take long.&nbsp; She drew a deep, satisfied breath as she felt the magic activate.&nbsp; The silvery surface of the mirror and her reflection clouded and swirled, until she could see the imposing form of the general superimposed upon her own.&nbsp; Her breath hissed in through her teeth, baring them for just a moment at the keenness of the anticipatory thrill, before she smiled and retreated just a bit into the shadows before allowing him a glimpse of that which awaited him through the portal.<br><br><em>"Yes, my sweet,&nbsp; see how lovely it looks on you, feel the sweet warmth against your throat like a kiss ... my kiss ..."&nbsp; </em>Her voice was a throaty, soft whisper of sound, soothing and sugar sweet.&nbsp; Her black-gloved hand reached out, beckoned, and extended in welcome as a tiny surge of will entered her voice.&nbsp; <em>"Come to me, my general.&nbsp; Take my hand."</em><br><br>Already she could feel the cold kiss of the silvered links along her fingers.&nbsp; His confusion and unrecognized longing seeped through the wisp-thin barrier, richer than freshed-baked bread just pulled from the keep's ovens.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-12-2013, 00:35:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan eyed himself in the mirror. For a moment, he wondered if his look had faded over the past decade or so. Had war and bloodshed taken such a toll that his features were distorted, a pale reflection of what he had been in his youth? If so, no one had dared point that out to him. No woman had claimed any sort of disappointment. No rival had used it against him as an insult or taunt. No friend had used such knowledge as a jest. No, if anything, he might have been -better- looking than he was in his twenties, even as he rapidly approached forty winters. <br><br>The collar seemed to amplify the bulk of his chest, pectoral muscles clearly defined, broad shoulders firm and tight, like flesh stretched over cord-like muscle. Might there be a few gray hairs doing their best to fight off the jet-black mane of hair that he wore? Perhaps, but they were drastically in the minority, and his close-cropped beard and mustache remained as black as a moonless, starless night. <br><br>Duncan raised a hand, caressing the silver links lightly - it was odd that it fit so -well-, as if tailored for him without a single alteration needed. He could -feel- the gentle thrum of magic, as if it were a small, light undercurrent beneath his flesh. Looking in the mirror, his image did not change, thankfully, so at least it was not some sort of mutation magic. He didn't feel lighter... or stronger... or faster. Though the collar's magic was as of yet unknown, he couldn't help but appreciate it's craftsmanship. Even though such a design seemed very old-fashioned, he marveled at how well it looked on him.<br><br>Then, he blinked. Then blinked again. Slowly, his head craned forward - had there been something -moving- in the mirror's reflection? At first he thought that it was perhaps a minor effect of the wine he had consumed that evening, but he knew he had less than a full cup, so it was definitely not inebriation. Could he have been poisoned? Not likely - if so, he'd probably already be dead.<br><br>There it was again, and this time it was far more pronounced and unmistakable - misty clouds moving amongst the mirror's surface. His eyes squinted, focused, leaning forward further in an effort to make out what the image was trying to show him...<br><br>And then -<em>she</em>- was there. <br><br>She was a beautiful apparition, entirely -too- beautiful, to the point that she had to be a figment of his imagination. Duncan had bedded countless women, but none that matched the beauty of the woman's reflection in the mirror. He had the urge to look behind and to the side of himself to see if that woman stood in the room with him, yet his gaze could not pull away. Already he felt the lurch in his breeches, the sudden rush, the familiar swelling, perhaps far more rapid than the norm. The curve of ample breasts and hips, her face, the hints of womanhood that teased him...<br><br>Who was she? And more importantly, how could he have her and make her his?<br><br>Immediately, Duncan's veteran senses kicked in, screaming at him, warning him - <em>this was not natural</em>. This was magic, and there was no telling what sort of witchcraft she was employing against him. But try as he might, he could not turn away. Part of him hoped to get a better look at her, perhaps see some sort of clue as to who she might be. There was something sinister about her, but the allure was undeniable, as if she had reached into his mind and plucked out his subconscious image of the perfect woman.<br><br>She retreated, then, fading slightly as the shadows of the mirror enveloped her. Duncan's brow furrowed even as he struggled to turn away, and a softly whimpered, 'No...!' escaped his lips. Where did she go? Why was she hiding now?<br><br><strong><em>"Yes, my sweet, see how lovely it looks on you, feel the sweet warmth against your throat like a kiss ... my kiss ..."</em></strong><br><br>Yes! Of course! The collar! It was -<em>cursed</em>-! What sort of wicked device had his King and friend given him? Why? If this woman was pure and harmless, Duncan knew that the King would never have given her over to him, which told him even more loudly that she was -<em>dangerous</em>-. He had to stop this. If he could just turn away, he'd rip the collar off, stuff it in its box and return it the next day. <br><br><strong><em>"Come to me, my general.&nbsp; Take my hand..."</em></strong><br><br>Her hand extended from the shadows towards him, her flesh covered in a black material of some kind. Duncan could avoid it simply enough, he could step back, he could ignore her command and remove the collar, sending her image away, returning his mirror to the lifeless device that it was meant to be. -He- was not one to be commanded by anyone but his King, and -especially- not by any female in all the realms.<br><br>"Like fucking -hell-," he growled in defiance to her command...<br><br>So why, then, was his hand rising slowly towards the mirror's surface?<br><br>His eyes widened as he went to pull his hand away - but it did not respond. Instead, it continued it's slow rise, fingers extended. A panic set-in as he gritted his teeth, struggling all he could to force his hand away, to move it aside or perhaps push the mirror away from him, but it was a futile attempt. Lightly, his fingertips brushed the mirror's surface... only, it wasn't -solid- anymore. His fingers seemed to slip -into- it, and waiting just on the other side were -her- fingers, long and elegant as they reached forward to meet his.<br><br>Duncan groaned softly as his heart pounded in his chest. His feet and legs would not respond. His other hand would not answer his call. As those black-clad fingers of the temptress finally made contact with his, he felt an -instant- surge flow through his hand and then into his body, a surge not unlike an electrical shock. His body went rigid for a moment, completely enchanted by that single touch. <br><br>She was not -<em>human</em>-, and he realized that now in both terror and wonder. <br><br>Her fingers spread, slowly interweaving with his, until their hands clasped together. It was a simple gesture, but also an intimate one, her touch both alien and enticing at the same time. His thumb moved slowly to caress the length of her thumb, the material covering her hand slick and warm.<br><br>~<em>Why does she cover her hand? Why will she not allow me to feel her skin?</em>~ he suddenly wondered to himself, quickly followed by harsh self-admonishment for even caring about the texture of her hand to begin with. And then - her hand gently pulled... and he felt himself moving toward the mirror.<br><br>"No....!" he gasped, his voice suddenly found. "NO!" he said more forcefully, but his feet carried him forward. <br><br>"Guards!" he cried, but it was a half-hearted effort, one that he knew would be in vain. The guards were downstairs during the festivities. The general was alone, having decided not to bring a bedmate to his room this night, no one to hear him call out, no one to hear his cry for help.<br><br>Slowly he edged towards the mirror's surface, his eyes widening. "GUARDS!" he cried out again, hoping beyond hope that the doors to his chambers would suddenly fly open, that someone would grab him before he was swallowed by his own mirror.<br><br>Then he was at the mirror's surface, his arm slipping fully through it first, then the front of his body. He made to scream, to cry out one last time, but all sound was suddenly swallowed as if he had fallen into eternity, and for a brief moment that seemed to last as long as it was short, all went black. <br><br>Behind him, in his bedroom, the surface of the mirror solidified once more into that of a normal mirror, leaving no sign of his passing. The only oddities about his bed-chamber now were his shirt and boots cast haphazardly across the floor... and an empty lead box sitting open upon his bed.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-12-2013, 19:44:57</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>Though the collar's magic did not depend on desire, the succubus could feel its rush in the mortal man who peered at her through the wavering barrier of the portal.&nbsp; She could smell it, feel its heat upon her skin, and even taste its sweet saltiness upon her lips, waking her hunger and whetting her appetites.<br><br>Of course, it would not be that easy.&nbsp; Few truly interesting things were, and if pinned down, she might have coyly admitted that she would have been disappointed if the strapping warrior had let himself be led in suspect circumstances by the rush of blood to his nether regions.&nbsp; It was much more interesting, and satisfying, to watch the look of surprise upon his face as his muscled did her bidding even as his mind commanded, demanded, that they stop.<br><br>If there were fear in those entrancing dark eyes, it was dominated by other emotions -- emotions that Jazelle personally found much more interesting.&nbsp; Desire shown in those eyes like a beacon, but awakening anger and determination were stronger still as he fought the pull of the spell, and the traitorous call of his own needs.<br><br>All it would have taken was a word to stop his struggles, to still his voice, but she did not speak it.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no need.&nbsp; The collar's crafter was a master of his art.&nbsp; &nbsp; He made an interesting ally -- and would have made an interesting enemy as well.&nbsp; On the whole, Jazelle found that she preferred the former -- how far she had fallen!&nbsp; She chuckled a bit at the thought, unperturbed.&nbsp; By the dawn, she would have another ally or enemy, and it would be folly to think that the only factors in play were that which passed between them.&nbsp; <br><br>Jazelle thought that she was up to the challenge ... and from the look of the general's taut, toned body and the will that travelled through him like a current and shot out from his eyes, she would enjoy every moment between now and the cock's crow.<br><br>The collar's crafter had specified the times, of course -- unable to resist the little inuendo.&nbsp; Perhaps that slightly juvenile sense of humor explained why she had tolerated him long enough for them to reach an understanding.<br><br>The general's more urgent shouts for the guards went unanswered.&nbsp; Jazelle watched the struggle placidly, without doing anything to shorten it.&nbsp; Let him feel the power of the command, but leave him his pride ... and, of course, his energy.&nbsp; There was no danger of escape.&nbsp; Bertrand loved the little details.&nbsp; She doubted that there was a guard within earshot that was still conscious.&nbsp; She wondered if he had simply ordered them away, or made it discretely known that a little indiscretion would be indulged during the celebration -- or had he been even more devious, and lasciviously mischievous, perhaps sending women ... or men ... to lure the guards beyond interference.&nbsp; The latter would be most apt ... but that was a question for later, an amusement that would be shared by two, or hopefully three, once the night was done.<br><br>The surface of the mirror rippled like water, with Duncan's straining face and limbs lit by a silvery nimbus for a moment&nbsp; ... and then he was through.&nbsp; The mirror was but a mirror again, and the silvered chain which she held snaked from her hand and darted toward the ring that awaited it in a silver, tinkling flash,&nbsp; closing the magic and strengthening it before her poor captive's eyes adjusted.<br><br>The breeze from the sea blew in, ruffling the succubus' long, honey-colored hair and the leather panels of her skirt as she moved into the light, her soft, leathery wings with clawed tips folded back in a relaxed position.&nbsp; Later, perhaps, she would dispense with those features, cloak them in illusion so perfect that they did not exist, for all intents and purposes.&nbsp; For now, though, she did not wish to hide what she was, what she represented, from him.&nbsp; There would be no lie between them, though he would have to earn the fullness of the truth.<br><br><em>"Welcome, Duncan."&nbsp; </em>The brief words were unhurried, drawn out in a deliberately sensual manner as she posed for the general, turned to emphasize the full, naked curve of her full hips, the thrust of her covered breasts, the soft fullness of her lips that promised delights beyond imagining.&nbsp; A wasted effort, perhaps, but inititial impressions were so important.&nbsp; Let him deny his desire if he would, but she could feel it coursing through him with every strong, heightened beat of his heart.<br><br><em>"I've been waiting for you."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>06-01-2014, 22:41:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Ducan's eyes took a moment to adjust to his new surroundings. The intensity of the light was little different from the room that he had just departed, his chambers not overly bright even on the sunniest of days. But something in the transition had made his eyes water, and he struggled for a moment, blinking, regaining his sight quickly. His arms and legs also felt fatigued somewhat, as if he had -crawled- to this chamber on his hands and knees, even though he knew he hadn't. Quickly, though, his eyes took in everything around him, observing with clear detail all of the trappings of this place he knew he had never been before.<br><br>Then, his eyes settled on -her-, or at least tried to as she remained hidden partially in shadow.<br><br>He knew immediately that she was a witch of some sort, if not an outright demon or devil. What -good- witch would tear him from his quarters without so much as an invitation? Then again, he collar had -been- an invitation, now that he thought about it - an open invitation, a mysterious and unknown one, but here he was, and his presence was proof of it. Within moments he was himself again, the trip he had taken behind him now, and the effects on his body, gone. He tensed, every muscle ready to flex and send him into motion. ~This is unnatural...~ he reminded himself, knowing that any action against a sorcerer would have to be quick and definitive. There would be no room for hesitation.<br><br>His eyes barely caught the motion of a slender silver chain darting toward him, clasping to a ring on the collar he now wore. He blinked again, his eyes finally focusing into normal clarity as he saw the chain extending from his neck to the woman's hand. Duncan was merely her dog now, her beast, and the feeling of shame rocked him to the core. He was -no one's- animal! <br><br>The scent of the sea filled his nostrils. The keep... it was no where near the sea, so he had traveled some large distance, it seemed, which confirmed his conveyance courtesy of magic. Then, there was movement in front of him, and the woman at the center of all this finally stepped forward, revealing herself for what she truly was.<br><br>Duncan's eyes widened. As he had suspected, this was dark magic at play. She wasn't even -human-, her leathery wings folded calmly at her back confirmed his suspicions. She was demon, the most wicked of foes, and despite the heavenly appearance the rest of her body presented, he knew that he would walk a fine line or be damned for eternity. Without even the slightest flinch, he had resigned himself to death, now, knowing that his body was likely forfeit. But now, it was his very -soul- that he worried for the most. <br><br>Duncan did well, other than the brief moment of widened eyes, to hide the remainder of his surprise. Had this been his King's desire all along? Had he planned it, perhaps when Duncan rose to such popularity that the King feared a coup, instead of killing him or going through the mess of assassination, the King had simply consigned his most loyal follower to the abyss?<br><br>Then she spoke, and he felt the velvet of her words brush down his spine line a hundred tiny fingertips lightly caressing his flesh. How many other mortals had been summoned to their doom in such a similar manner? How many men had fallen to their knees in worship of this creature, at the simple sound of her voice? Duncan, however, was no simple man. His eyes, though, moved on their own, looking her up and down completely. If not for the wings, if not for the dark magic... -this- woman would be one worth <em>leveling kingdoms</em> for.<br><br>The ache in his loins was a dull thud that pounded in time with his heartbeat, which was quicker than normal. This was no ordinary foe standing across from him, and the chain in her hand maddened him. But Duncan knew he had to keep his wits. He could not allow himself to fall into lust - or anger - and lose sight of his better judgment. If he had any hope of surviving this -with his soul in tact - he had to be careful, more careful than he had ever been before.<br><br>Her declaration that she had been waiting for him did not surprise him, but in his mind it only confirmed that his King had been in league with this creature all along. That realization, more than anything -stung- him. His face, though, remained stoney and impassive, and any emotion he felt - pain, anger, disappointment - helped to take his mind from the slowly growing feelings originating below his belt. <br><br>"You have me at a disadvantage," he finally replied, his voice deep and bold, unafraid and unwavering. He need more information, though. Like any battle, he needed to know he lay of the land.<br><br>"Who are you? Why am I here? And just where is 'here'?" he asked, glancing around the room for a moment, noting how difficult it had been to remove his eyes from her. But remembering the chain, he slowly raised a hand to his neck, his fingertips feeling the collar, slowly sliding them to the clasps and hooks that he had used to snap the device into place. "And why, exactly, would you put a -guest- on a leash?" he asked finally. Perhaps in this place, hospitality was different, but he had a pretty good idea what the leash signified, as terrible as his suspicions felt. He simply awaiting her answers, hoping against hope that he was wrong.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>09-01-2014, 20:04:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>It was always interesting to watch humans react to her undisguised form.&nbsp; Most of the time, it was simply easier to use illusion to mask those features that revealed her origins -- her true form, though beautiful by most mortal standards, was nonetheless a thing of nightmares.&nbsp; With good reason, she privately acknowledged -- most of her sisters would rend a man's soul from his body without pausing for even a moment to wonder why.&nbsp; Souls were, after all, the currency of the underworld.&nbsp; As far as she knew, she was one of only three succubi who had slipped the chains of the abyss more than momentarily, so a certain amount of caution was undeniably wise.<br><br>Her vision, even in the shadows, was acute.&nbsp; She had no trouble making out the details of her gift, and took time to appreciate each exquisite detail.&nbsp; He was afraid, angry, confused, ashamed, defiant&nbsp; -- she could read his emotions across his expression and his stance.&nbsp; He was also aroused, which Jazelle accepted more or less as a given.&nbsp; Men such as he did not wilt, even when they glimpsed the spectre of death looming, and if one must die, what better way than in the grasp of mortal pleasure?<br><br>Her mouth made a little moue of wry amusement.&nbsp; It would be a failure indeed if her lovely general met his end while under her tutelage.&nbsp; Such a humiliation was not in her plans, but she could hardly blame him for his suspicions, and a simple denial of intent would be viewed as spurious at best.<br><br>When he spoke, she smiled with delight and moved forward just a bit, enough so that the light revealed her features, her fingers running lightly over the silvered chain before she released it to clink musically upon the marble of the floor.&nbsp; Her captive had a good range of free movement upon his leash --&nbsp; the chain was symbolic more than functional, with the bulk of the enchantment upon the collar itself.&nbsp; Should he be foolish, she would offer a demonstration, but it seemed that her general had chosen to be civilized -- how decadently delicious.<br><br><em>"Why, yes,"</em> the succubus agreed magnanimously, with only the slightest crinkle of her eyes indicating the genuine amusement behind the smug-sounding affirmation. <em> "Yes, I do at that." </em> Though she did not hesitate, Jazelle chose her words with care, implying rather than stating the obvious.&nbsp; &nbsp;She rather liked the way dignity looked upon the general - it was a mantle that the king had yet to learn to wear properly, so it was good that his most trusted counselors were there to provide proper example.<br><br>She watched patiently as he examined the collar and its fastenings with his fingertips, admiring the delicacy of the gesture and allowing herself the luxury of shivering pleasurably at the thought of those fingers moving along her skin with that same questing, delicate touch.<br><br><em>"All excellent questions, my general," </em>she purred, stretching slightly to bring his eyes back to where she wanted them, as well as to test the strength of the desire that pulsed through his loins with every strong, surging beat of his heart. <em> "The answer to one, you are not yet ready to hear.&nbsp; the answer to another, perhaps the most important, must be earned.&nbsp; The others, I will answer freely, as reward for being so delightfully sensible.&nbsp; This is my ... sanctuary ... I suppose you would call it, if you were in a generous mood ... or perhaps, my demesne ... or even ... my lair."</em><br><br>The last word she imbued with all the sinister intent that she could muster, narrowing her eyes and letting her wings rustle just a bit before she snapped her fingers and let the illusion take them, though the vestigial horns remained, just so that Duncan would not waste time accusing her of deceptive measures.&nbsp; She knew that he would not let desire rob him of the knowledge of what she was -- even had she wanted him to forget.&nbsp; &nbsp; They were simply, at the moment, an unnecessary distraction.&nbsp; Her expression smoothed out and the faint smile returned, and her eyes danced with exaggeratedly innocent amusement.<br><br><em>"The answer to the last question is, of course, that I would not.&nbsp; Therefore, it must follow that you are not, regretfully, a guest."</em>&nbsp; She inclined her head, a touch regretfully as her fingers lazily moved to trace over her body's curves in an almost unconscious movement. <em> "It seems you have chosen to use wits over brawn ... while I rarely object to a vigorous display of muscle, I am pleased to see that you appear to use that lovely head for more than just a place to perch a helmet."<br></em><br>She purposely did not allude further to his first two questions -- what he made of her answers, and his next move upon the board that lay between them -- figuratively, of course -- would be telling.&nbsp; She enjoyed a good game -- it made for most excellent foreplay.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-01-2014, 00:33:27</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Again she spoke, and when she did, again he felt that ghostly caress of silk slither slowly down his spine. She had moved forward now, into plain view, and her form was shocking as it was unique. The General had only heard of her kind in tales, stories, the kinds of legends one reads to frighten others. But this was no tale, and he was quite sure that he hadn't stepped into a nightmare. He could only wish that it was something that simple.<br><br>A casual glance behind him confirmed that there was no way out. Whatever this place was, and whatever her motives for bringing him here, he had the distinct feeling that he would not be able to depart this place without her blessing. He turned his gaze back to the woman before him, taking her under closer examination now that she had stepped nearer to him.<br><br>She looked... fragile. Like a woman might look from his own domain. Despite the wings and her other features that were not found on the women amongst his own kind, the feminine parts of her body looked soft... and enticing. He was of two minds about her instantly: on one hand, he wondered if her body could withstand a strike from him, or if he could get his hands around her neck, could he choke her into submission. On the other hand, he wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked, if her breasts, barely hidden at all, were as full and firm as he imagined they might be. And those lips...<br><br>He blinked, drawing himself out of such thoughts. They were merely arousing him further, and that was the last thing he needed. He was fairly certain that she did not use her 'trick' to bring him here for physical pleasure. That would be an arrogant assumption on his part. No, she had other reasons, he was sure, and discovering those while protecting himself was his priority. <br><br>She let the chain fall from her hand, and even the chain itself looked frail and dainty. He imagined that he could snap it with ease, but something warned him in the back of his mind against such hasty action. She had the power to draw him here. She had the power to trap him here. She was a sorceress, and she walked before him without any obvious weapons. In his mind, these things meant that she was either a lunatic... or she was impressively powerful enough that she didn't even -fear- him despite how much larger and stronger than her that he appeared.<br><br>Caution, then, would be his course of action.<br><br>She praised him for being sensible, and by her own words, it was the only reason she answered any of his questions at all. The post important ones he either 'wasn't ready to hear', or he would 'have to earn'. She described this place as her sanctuary, which he had surmised already, but her last description seemed more fitting: it was her lair. Not just a home or a simple abode. The word spoke of something far more... primal. Something more wicked than a common place where one lived their daily lives.<br><br>His eyes darted slightly upwards when her wings rustled, his gaze falling on them like a startled animal might gaze upon an owl sitting on a branch preening itself just above. But she snapped her fingers, and her wings simply -<em>vanished</em>-. An illusionist, then. It was worse than he had imagined. Now, he was sure he could not trust her, but he also could not trust his own -eyes-. For all he knew, this 'woman' before him was actually an ancient, shriveled crone, only making herself appear appealing to him in order to lure him closer to her. He continued to play that thought in his mind, using it as a rock, as an island from which to resist the unreasonable urges flowing through his mind.<br><br>She even tried to draw his attention to her form, using her fingers to trace along her flesh - but he did his best to ignore it. And, at the last, she again praised him for using wit over brawn. The way she said it seemed to also confirm his earlier suspicion - she was far stronger than she looked, and hardly vulnerable.<br><br>"I am a prisoner, then," he said, the wheels in his head working quickly. He folded his big arms across his chest, as if he were patiently waiting further detail as he spoke. "So, my king gives me this... gift," he said, obviously referring to the collar. "It is cursed, by you, to lure me into this trap. You will not tell me a name to call you by, nor will you tell me the reason for my being here, so I am left to decipher that for myself," he said. "Clearly one of our kingdom's enemies came to me, disguised as my King, and gave me this cursed object. No spy, no assassin, no foe has penetrated the keep in over a decade, and apparently that has changed now, our defenses found lacking. And here I am, in your clutches..."<br><br>He was finally able to turn his head slightly to the side so that his eyes could find some other object to focus on. Her breasts... like magnets for his gaze, were distracting him the longer he glanced. Her own eyes, her lips, enticing him to fall on his knees before her. And other parts of her body, down lower - he knew he was simply imagining her scent, the scent of a woman in heat. It was -all- just an illusion, afterall. None of it was real. It was meant to unbalance him - and it had - and now began his struggle to regain his footing so that he would not be at a disadvantage.<br><br>"So, your prisoner I may be - but I feel I must warn you, I will not betray my King. I will not share secrets to bring about his downfall," he said, ever the dutiful solider. "Torture me as you will, sorceress. Tempt me if you think that will work. But I will not betray him, nor will I willingly become party to any plot that you have against him," he said. <br><br>He turned his gaze back to her then, and he seemed more resolved, more collected, his will slightly reinforced and his sensibilities regained. "And if you plan to kill me - then I suggest you simply have done with it, for I will offer neither you nor those you serve any sport."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>15-01-2014, 22:03:57</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>The general's reactions were darling, and both gratifying and worthy of respect.&nbsp; She could sense no fear in him, not truly, only caution, and his desire roiled beneath the surface like a gathering storm, even as he sought to control it.&nbsp; Desire did not control him, and it brought him no shame.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was, or so he sought to believe, desire's master and never had it brought him to his knees.<br><br><em>"I look forward to remedying that,"</em> Jazelle murmured in response to the unspoken thought.&nbsp; A man on his knees did not signify weakness.&nbsp; Strength was not negated by the bowing of a head or a neck; it was not demonstrated by standing tall and straight against adversity when bending would have better served the purpose.<br><br><em>"Should you see it as such, then such you are," </em>she answered mildly, lips hovering in the same easy smile.&nbsp; An unarmed mortal posed little lasting damage to her physical form, and the tools at his disposal that might be converted to physical weapons were likewise puny.&nbsp; His strength of will, unfettered, might have proved challenging, but he had unknowingly forsworn his greatest weapon when he answered the call of that which lay within him.&nbsp; Still, the succubus could not find it in her to sympathize, even on the surface -- that which awaited him was a gift, even if he did not yet comprehend.<br><br>At his conclusions drawn, Jazelle raised her head and soft, ringing laughter echoed around the chamber, her mouth opening wide as she allowed her hilarity freedom.&nbsp; Humans were such delightfully predictable creatures - they concocted the most grandiose schemes to avoid that which lay beneath their noses on one hand, and jumped to the most misleadingly simple explanation despite all evidence to the contrary when it suited them. <strong><em>"Clearly," </em></strong>she agreed insincerely.&nbsp; <em>"And you may address me as 'Jazelle', if you wish ... at least for the moment. "</em><br><br>The succubus, her wings hidden away, circled around the general in a slow, unhurried stalk of a predator who was confident that their prey had no avenue of escape, eyes devouring him in hungry appreciation. <em> "Though you have little reason as of yet to believe what I say, perhaps you will see the truth of it in time.&nbsp; I bear no ill designs upon the person or rule of your king -- and I will speak no untruth to you whilst you wear that which binds you to me.&nbsp; Nor do I wish to see such a marvelously virile man die beneath me ... an aberration that I freely admit my sisters likely would not share, should you find themselves in similar circumstances with one of them.&nbsp; You shall live to see the dawn, my resolute general, and to reclaim your freedom ... if not your chastity."</em><br><br>She raised her eyebrows, face crinkling in feigned remorse, before her gaze slid down pointedly to the area of his groin.<br><br><em>"The only thing that remains in doubt, lovely Duncan ... is whether you will pit your wits against mine in order to glean the knowledge that may help you ... turn the tables upon the foul perpetrator of this ... curse."</em><br><br>At least he hadn't launched himself at her yet, though undoubtedly he would.&nbsp; Those who were strong of body rarely accepted on faith that they could not overpower a woman dwarfed by their bulk.<br><br><em>"Will you hear my terms, General Vanzell?&nbsp; They are ... quite reasonable ... as these sorts of things go."</em><br><br>Deliberately casual, she let her steps take her within what she judged the limits of his range.&nbsp; If he was only biding his time, she would make it easy for him ... and they could get past that first regrettable awkwardness.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-01-2014, 00:29:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan made no move when she spoke of 'remedying' any aspect of his thoughts. Could she read his mind? Or was she simply so observant, so ancient that she could 'read' someone simply by their tone, their body-language, or the merest gleam in their eyes? If Duncan had learned one thing about women over the years, despite what his colleagues often claimed, women were -not stupid-. Some played at it, but in Duncan's experience, to assume such a thing was opening oneself up for heartbreak - which is one of the many reasons he had never settled on just one woman.<br><br>And -this- woman before him, be she some sort of mage or witch, was -obviously- intelligent. If she truly were a demon, she could be hundreds of years old, -thousands- perhaps. She might not even have an 'age' as humankind thought of it, and as he had also learned, with age usually came great wisdom.<br><br>He raised a brow when she commented about the way -he- saw his situation. "If I am not a prisoner, then I might simply depart?" he asked. Duncan didn't think it was that simple at all. But even more alarmingly... part of him didn't -want- to go. Part of him was curious, and of course part of him was quite enjoying the view.<br><br>Finally, she gave forth her title: Jazelle. The sound of it rolled off his tongue, even though he did not say it aloud. She hinted at him using the name 'for the moment', and curiously he wondered if she often changed her name, and quickly he surmised that Jazelle likely wasn't her name -at all-. In fact, if she were a true demon, her name would be unknown to him, foreign and well out of reach. Stories told that to know a demon's name would allow one to control it - yet, here she was, boldly facing him without any sort of concern. No, Jazelle most certainly was -not- her name, but he had nothing else to call her.<br><br><em>~Temptress. Seductress. Succubus. Erotic. Beautiful...~</em> All those descriptions and more came unbidden to his mind, and they all applied equally to her. <br><br>She began to walk, then, circling him as if admiring some sort of prize. Or, in some ways, reminding him of the way he would sometimes inspect his soldiers. But there was a predatory feel to what she was doing, and Duncan resisted the urge to take a more defensive stance. No, he simply stood here, boldly, showing no fear. She would probably -feed- off his fear, if he showed it, just as she would likely mock him for it and his lust, if he let his emotions reach the surface. She quickly recognized the fact that he would doubt her word. Even with the promise that she would not lie to him as long as he wore he damnable collar, he still couldn't -trust- her. What reason did he have to do so? Her mention of 'sisters' made his skin crawl - there were more -like her- out there? How many? How much sweeter - or more devious - might they be? <br><br>She promised he would live to see the dawn, but bluntly told him that he might not keep his chastity.<br><br>So that was it, then. 'Jazelle' planned to turn him into some sort of pleasure toy for her amusement? Or... possibly for someone or -something- else's amusement. He felt the hackles on his neck stand on end as he watched her eyes lower to his groin - and as if on some sort of inaudible command, his manhood tensed. Just a look, just the sound of her voice... chilled him, but aroused him. No -woman- had ever had that sort of power over him before, and to Duncan, that just proved even further that this being before him was -no mere woman-.<br><br>Then came the challenge - to pit his wits against hers in order to learn what might help him turn the tables of the person responsible for this. The thought again crossed his mind to throw himself at her, to test her strength. But for what reason? If she were weaker than him, she wouldn't be sauntering about, nearly naked. When he was but a late teen, he would have gladly raped such a woman, forcing her to his will. His lust would have been too much to hold back - but that was long ago. He was smarter, now, wiser... and his brain was telling him that to attack her would be folly. She'd likely restrain him... somehow. Chains, ropes, straps... and right now, he valued the fact that he could move about. For now - he remained calm, on guard, but relaxed in place without showing any intent of action for the moment.<br><br>Then she proposed that he hear her out, listen to her 'terms', and whether he had a choice or not, he was -curious-. She came to a standstill just within arm's reach. His eyes focused on hers, but from his peripheral her body still beckoned to him. He remained silent for a moment, dark eyes fixed on her own.<br><br>"I will hear your terms, lady Jazelle," he said formally. If anything, it would buy him -time- to hopefully come up with a plan, to see some means of escape. To perhaps learn more about her. He longed for his armor and blade - standing before her in nothing but his linen smallclothes girding his loins did not offer him much reassurance. For now, he only weapon he had was his mind, and even then he somehow felt woefully ill-prepared for the being standing just in front of him, a being both luscious and wicked.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-01-2014, 20:35:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"No.&nbsp; The door to this place has been shut ... until dawn.&nbsp; There is no way back whence you came before then, and you would not like, I think, what you would encounter should you attempt to leave by other means -- even were I willing to let such a delicious morsel pass untasted."&nbsp; </em>Jazelle shrugged her shoulders lightly, eyes roaming over him with hunger that was little dimmed by the thread of amusement running through her voice.&nbsp; <em>"But alas ... until that time, I am bound by my bargain even as you are bound by ... whatever led you to fasten the collar around your neck."</em><br><br>And that, she knew, was an undeniable truth.&nbsp; &nbsp;The magic of the collar was such that the lesson she was meant to impart would be wasted -- if the general had indeed felt naught but disgust at the thought -- the compulsion would not have activated.&nbsp; It would have served no purpose, and whatever the crafter of it truly intended, he did not seem to wish for the either the humiliation or injury of the king or his most trusted subject.<br><br>His agreement, without the subsequent testing of strengths, surprised her somewhat, and she made the slightest 'hmmm' of appreciation.&nbsp; It would be interesting indeed if they could truly simply dispense with the pain and frustration of a demonstration of what the collar could do ... but too, it might blunt the fact that she did not employ it like a club.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet the night was young indeed -- there was no need to decide upon one course of action to the exclusion of all others.<br><br><em>"So reasonable ... so courtly.&nbsp; I begin to wonder whether the gossip I have heard of you does not judge you harshly, my general.&nbsp; Very well then - this is what I propose."</em><br><br><em>"You humans have a lovely game called 'Truth or Consequences', do you not?&nbsp; A game for young ladies and gentlemen who wish to ... explore the first stirrings of their loins in an atmosphere of safety.&nbsp; I've rather enjoyed what I've seen of it. I will ask you a question.&nbsp; You may answer it or not as you choose, but if you choose to answer, you will answer truthfully.&nbsp; &nbsp;For each answer you give, you may ask a question of me, which I will answer, also truthfully.&nbsp; Some I cannot answer directly ... unless certain conditions are met.&nbsp; If I cannot answer, you may choose another question."<br></em><br>Jazelle's voice was soft and musical, a voice made for the sharing of intimate secrets in the darkness, pitched low in a subtle bid to keep his eyes locked upon her so as not to miss a single word.<br><br><em>"But there is the consequences ... and since I would not punish you for choosing not to answer, I propose an alternative.&nbsp; Each question will be delivered with a touch, a kiss, or ..."&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle widened her eyes and pursed her lips briefly in a knowing gesture. "We shall see.&nbsp; And for your part, you will participate in my little game ... grudgingly, if you must, but you will not refuse me unless you truly do not desire, even in part, that which I choose."</em><br><br>The succubus' head turned down, just slightly, so that her eyes cut up all the more toward him as she smiled, an expression that was more challenging than reassuring -- daring him to pit his wits against hers.<br><br><em>"In another show of good faith, I will tell you that the collar's magic does not reveal a lie, though it it does hold the power for me to compel you to speak truthfully.&nbsp; &nbsp;I can demonstrate, if you wish proof, but I would prefer that we ... trade in good faith.&nbsp; There is no need to couch such a bargain in scrolls of lengthy discourse meant to to conceal intent and hide away daggers to be drawn when backs are turned, is there?"</em><br><br>That was another peculiarity that Jazelle had developed over the years - a liking for dealing in good faith.&nbsp; There was much power in truth - and presented properly and at the proper time, it was more powerful than the most carefully crafted lie.&nbsp; Humans were very, very good at lying to themselves and most did so with such frequency that most lost the skill to even identify their own lies -- It would have gone to waste had I not taken it, I could not help myself, I spoke because I have your best interests at heart.<br><br>Her sisters thought her mad, but Jazelle thought that they protested just a bit too much.&nbsp; Jealousy ... jealousy and spite, that's what it was.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>27-01-2014, 11:07:42</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan listened to her explain just how trapped he truly was. He was stuck here until dawn... which, if he were in his room, would be about... six hours? Seven perhaps? Her reference to him as a delicious morsel - passing untasted... it sent a slight shiver down his spine. Part of him, however, was curious about what way he would be tasted that she was referring to. The woman's words concerning a bargain made him narrow his eyes slightly - and then she referred to whatever had led him to putting on the collar.<br><br>"It was merely... curiosity," he said - which was partially true. He -had- been curious about the device, about why his friend and lord, the King, would have given it to him. He had been curious about how it would have looked, given that collars were typically -not- a common fashion staple where he was from. <br><br>And he was curious what it might feel like to be a slave, collared and owned by another.<br><br>"Gossip?" he asked, suddenly intrigued. "What gossip is it that you refer to?" So she had researched him? Or at least spent time herself around the subjects of the kingdom? Had she traveled about the very keep - had he, himself, bumped into her in one corridor or another, with her wearing some type of disguise, obviously? The thought intrigued him, and terrified him at the same time. Was the King's castle lacking in security that badly?<br><br>But soon, she was sharing her proposition with him. A game - Truth or Consequences. Duncan himself had not played this game for many years, and it took him by surprise that this... creature... before him was wishing to do now. It was simple: a series of questions, and answers were required to be truthful. And, the recipient wasn't even -required- to answer. It seemed simple, and he was expecting a catch or some sort of 'variation' from the norm... and he was right.<br><br>Each question would be delivered with a touch, or a kiss, or... well, there was something else, but she would not go on. He took a breath, feeling a thrill rush through him. Would she truly allow him to touch her simply by asking her a question? His eyes moved to her lips, her slender neck, her shoulders - and those perfect, bountiful breasts... oh yes, if he was allowed to deliver a kiss or a touch, he could easily think of a thousand questions to ask...<br><br>Jazelle spoke then of him participating grudgingly - but so far, the rules seemed quite harmless. <br><br>She spoke of acting in good faith, to which he nodded. He had no way of knowing whether she was lying to him or not, nothing at his disposal except for his instincts. And if this woman truly were a creature of the abyss, his instincts might mean nothing here. Conversely, she claimed that the collar he wore could be used to -compel- him to speak the truth. He knew it was magical, that much was obvious, but did it truly function as she described? And ultimately, did he believe her threat that she could 'demonstrate', instead of acting on 'good faith'?<br><br>Duncan knew that he was facing another serious choice here. Remain on this woman's 'good side' by playing along, and 'trusting' in her words. Or defy her and face -possible- consequences. He thought about it for a moment, and realized that so far, she had not asked or demanded anything outrageous of him yet. She had threatened and warned, and played the part of his jailor, but other than that - he had not been harmed or mistreated. Playing along, for now he decided, was the best course of action.<br><br>Besides, he only needed to wait a few hours and then - according to her - he'd be free. <br><br>"I accept your proposal - with one caveat," he said, holding up a finger. "A short while ago, you promised that you had no wish to learn secrets that could bring the downfall of my king, or his kingdom. This game of yours... if you try to use it to undermine my king or his lands... I shall refuse to answer - whatever the punishment. Instead, I shall simply trust in your 'good faith', as you put it, that you will not direct your line of questioning towards him, or his lands."<br><br>He lowered his hand after he spoke, reminding her of her earlier words. If he would not be forced to give away secrets that would betray his king, then Duncan was completely at ease concerning the rest of her rules. <br><br>"If that is acceptable to you, then yes - I shall willingly participate, and await your first question."<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-01-2014, 19:58:04</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>As long as she could remember, the things that went on inside a man's head had been a thing of fascination for her -- at least once she realized the depths, ripples and eddies of their thoughts.&nbsp; Not all men possessed such complex thoughts -- some were as simple as that of a child, with every beginning and end rushing back to a circular pattern of 'I want, I want, I want' in near mindless repetition, though the justifications and self-deceptions could be entertaining.<br><br>"We fool ourselves so well we could do it for a living."&nbsp; Jazelle had come across that simple bit of almost profound explanation somewhere, and it had stuck.&nbsp; She liked it, like the way it rolled around in her head and off her tongue in the few instances she had had to speak it.<br><br>Was he truly going to be reasonable, with no tiresome demonstrations?&nbsp; No wasted minutes with pain, when pleasure was so much more preferable?&nbsp; &nbsp;Her surprise, and skepticism, was written on her face along with with pleased hope -- or perhaps it was she who was being skillfully fooled, by her own desire for those roiling and rippling thoughts and the taut, magnificently forged body decorated by an impressive catalogue of victory and defeat.<br><br><em>"Agreed,"</em> she answered formally, inclining her head as regally as any noble lady of the kingdom, as good almost as an answer to his question, asked outside the terms of their arrangement.&nbsp; She had researched, questioned, watched as he moved through the keep and city, and a good bit of the information at her disposal had come from the monarch himself.&nbsp; To make such a claim would be counter-productive, despite its truth.<br><br>The succubus had learned patience -- learned to equate it with the rewarding and oh, so pleasurable drawing out of sexual congress, lovemaking as the bards liked to sing and write about it, though she sometimes thought that that which she did with men often held more honest affection than any bardling's sugary declarations of love undying.<br><br>Jazelle regarded Duncan through half-lidded eyes that made no effort to deny her interest and hunger, a raw sexuality that cared not what thoughts the morrow would bring.&nbsp; Of her, he would think what he thought, and by his wisdom she would judge whether he was worthy to keep her interest.&nbsp; Her bargain would be concluded with the dawn just as his would -- but a certain personal interest beyond her agreement was almost unavoidable.<br><br>The next moment would be telling, whether the general valued his word or considered any means acceptable to the desired end -- not proof positive, of course, but at least a golden opportunity for him to reveal the latter.&nbsp; Was he a patient man?&nbsp; Finding out would be ... a feast.<br><br>After she had looked her fill, the succubus wasted no more time but strode forward, her booted feet striking the marble with the sure and sharp clicking of heels that gave her form height to near equal Duncan's until she stood but inches from him.&nbsp; Deliberately, and without hurry, she brought her gloved hand to her lips and captured a finger with her teeth, and used them as an anchor as she drew the first glove away, uncaring of any danger posed by their proximity.&nbsp; When her fingers, the nails only slightly long and genteelly rounded in the nature of the ladies of the king's court and stained with dark dye reminiscent of the plums that grew in the king's summer courtyard, were bare, she reached out and laid her palm flat against Duncan's chest, and slowly, smilingly, drew her curved fingers downward to brush over his pectorals and the almost flat rosette of a nipple.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"For every man, there is at least one woman that he wants but cannot have.&nbsp; Who is <strong>the</strong> woman for you -- not her name, General, but the essence of her that awakened your desire?"</em>&nbsp; The emphasis was slight but unmistakable -- not just any woman that he wanted, but the one of most import.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-01-2014, 13:35:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan realized that if this 'incident' had taken place just ten years prior, it would have gone much differently, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing or a bad. He would have already lost his temper. He would have already tried to escape. He might have even assaulted her. That felt like a lifetime ago, and the general had learned much since he was a simple footman in the King's service. Now, he was a veteran; cagey and experienced, patient and observant. There was no weakness in biding his time, in looking for the right moment to strike - or flee. If this creature were to be trusted, he need only wait until morning anyway. And if all she desired was to have conversations and play word-games with him, that would certainly help to pass the time until he was free again.<br><br>Her half-lidded eyes looked sensual, as if she were already enjoying some secret pleasure. Her body was certainly built for it - even with the trappings of the demoness she was, which she had hidden in some arcane way. And her face... why did it beckon his hand to caress it so? Why did her hair seem to pull at him to touch it? And would touching her sear his flesh? Or would it freeze it solid like ice?<br><br>Duncan remained still, though, as she moved toward him. She came to a stop and casually removed a glove from her hand, revealing delicate fingers that as far as he could tell were the same as many women he had met before. Her nails were shorter than he imagined, which for some reason he didn't understand at the moment came as a comfort to him. They closely resembled the nails of the ladies at court, and their coloring hinted at the colors similar to that of the plums that grew in the courtyard - plums that Duncan, himself, had lifted on occasion.<br><br>Then she reached out to lay her palm flat against his chest. He -almost- flinched in expectation of the searing pain of heat or the burning cold of frost - but he felt neither. Her hand was warm, gentle - no different from another woman's touch, except he could sense a strength in hers, despite the soft smoothness that reminded him of a noblewoman's touch. Slowly her hand slid down his pectoral, almost flattening against his nipple.<br><br>Then she asked her question. Immediately upon hearing it, he thought it was a simple query. But he quickly analyzed how she worded it, realizing that there were subtle nuances to the way she asked it, meaning the answer would not be as simple as it sounded.<br><br>His mouth worked for a moment as his brain struggled to come up with an answer. It made him -think- about a certain situation in a different way, but finally he was able to put voice to his thoughts. His brow furrowed, his eyes taking on a semi-distant stare as he began to speak.<br><br>"She was a woman who belonged to another," he began. "It was... unwise to pursue her. Most of my people take fidelity and faithfulness quite seriously. The attraction was mutual, and it began as a friendship, of course, kept public and proper."<br><br>"After a time, we met for lunches... dinners... and the meetings grew more private. Her laugh was intoxicating, her wit was as sharp as any blade. And her beauty... it stirred things in me that I had never felt before. Yet she was married, and her husband was in good standing with the king, and was a successful businessman. But he was often gone, traveling about the land seeing to his business interests. He did not think the wilds were safe enough to bring his lovely wife, so he left her at home where she would not come to harm."<br><br>"Our first kiss was... an accident," he said with the hint of a smile, remembering. "We stood on her balcony, watching the sun set together and she turned to me - misjudging how close we were together. Perhaps it was no misjudgment at all," he said, shrugging. "But when our lips met - I knew I had to have her."<br><br>"It was she who guided me back inside to the bedroom and began removing my clothes. Within moments, the heat of our desire rose and rose, and naked, we rolled onto the bed, I forced her thighs apart eager to have her - and then I stopped. We gazed at each other with longing for quite some time - my manhood was a solid shaft of steel, and her sheath awaited just beneath me, well-oiled and wanting. But we could not do it."<br><br>"I left immediately, to cool off, and did not hear from her for several days. When finally she sent me her wishes to meet again, I went to her. We agreed that incident would be... forgotten, but I never have," he said, shaking his head slightly.<br><br>"She was assertive, strong-willed, even stubborn. Intelligent beyond the norm, she was my equal at chess, and she had a kind heart, regularly giving some of her coin to beggars on the streets, despite her husband's disdain for the smallfolk. I did not frighten or intimidate her, despite my physical size or my position. And...&nbsp; most important of all, it was quite obvious that she was -faithful-. There had been that one moment on the precipice, that one brief glimmer of betrayal fueled by lust - but she was the one to keep it at bay, the one to summon the will to prevent it from happening. I was disappointed at the time, of course, for the woman had a body... well... much like yours," he said with a faint shrug of one shoulder. "But she held true to her oath to her husband, despite the gulf that had arisen between them. And that is the one part of her 'essence' that I admired the most: devotion, lady Jazelle. I do not know if you are familiar with such a concept, but it is one facet of a person's personality that I hold in highest regard, if it is present."<br><br>He took a short breath, wondering for a moment if he was boring her to tears. But he decided it was best to give her -too- much info, rather than not enough. If she didn't like it, she would surely cut him off or inform him to be more 'brief' in the future.<br><br>"Her husband eventually returned home, and he had soon received word from his friends upon his return that she and I had been spending much time together. He became quite alarmed. Within days, their estate was emptied - he had moved with her far away from the capitol. I have not seen or heard from her since, though I hear he is doing well in his business pursuits. I also believe they had a child together, a son, as I recall," he said with a shrug. Discussing it had re-opened a bit of a wound that he had thought fully healed. Still, the passage of time had dulled the sensation, and it was naught but a splinter in his finger compared to the dagger in his heart that it had been at the time.<br><br>"Does my answer satisfy you? Or did I possibly miss the point? I confess... the question took me a bit by surprise, so it's quite possible I misunderstood it," he said, quickly seeking to change the subject and bury those memories once more, his mind very aware of her touch on his chest, his nipple having hardened into a tiny pebble beneath her hand as he spoke.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-02-2014, 15:38:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>There was no reaction as her touch was accepted.&nbsp; True to his word, her lovely general had neither flinched, backed away, or .... infinitely less preferable ... wet himself with fear of losing his soul.&nbsp; He had braced himself somewhat, a bare tightening of muscles that she would have enjoyed paying closer attention to, for they were well worth watching.&nbsp; That was forgivable - more a demonstration of good sense over bravado than cowardice or defiance.<br><br>The muscles beneath her fingers felt like living steel, warm and only reluctantly yielding.&nbsp; What a finely forged specimen the general was - a weapon, certainly, in hands predisposed to such uses.&nbsp; Yet he was also finely suited to other, more enjoyable purposes, like some of the fine dwarven and gnomish toys in her collection ... toys beyond the understanding of all but the most precocious child.&nbsp; Jazelle could certainly appreciate a beautifully forged, deadly weapon - but her purpose here was not to fight.<br><br>The touch of her palm lightened as her fingers reached the first ripple of ribcage, decorated by some old reminder of battles past, until only her fingertip, and then the nail made contact with the skin, the barest taste, the faintest aroma of what was yet to come as he spoke, a feather light, teasing touch that returned to a full press of her palm that lingered over tightened skin that fairly trembled with with desire.&nbsp; Later, once his craving for her touch had slipped the chains of his distrust, she would draw out her caress, all the better to make him hungry for the next question, both to ask and be asked.<br><br>Trust was a fragile thing at first, like brittle glass.&nbsp; To most of her sisters, it was honeyed words and fulsome promises, desire that burned like a beacon-fire ... and then burnt itself out to bitter embers.&nbsp; Jazelle had learned that this marvelously delicate thing could be, if developed properly, could be forged into something more durable and lasting than steel.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was not to say that the succubus had patience for such forgings beyond a pleasurable span of couplings, except in the rarest of cases, but she could almost find it in her heart to pity her sisters who were so sadly ill-equipped to enjoy the rewarding fruits beyond the first failing of their illusions.<br><br>There was no time for such maudlin contemplations, however, for she wished not to miss a word of her answer.&nbsp; As he spoke, Jazelle watched Duncan's face, letting herself attune to his desires.&nbsp; Occasionally, she allowed herself the pleasure of a more complete sweep of her eyes, taking in the magnificently lithe and muscular form, and her expression was one of pleasant interest. She made only a few soft sounds, accompanied by tiny changes in her demeanor that only one innately talented or schooled in the observance of non-verbal cues would likely catch -- the faintest exhalation of breath when Duncan spoke of the seriousness with which his people took fidelity and faithfulness, a miniscule inclination of her head when he admitted that the first kiss of which he spoke had not (perhaps) been a misjudgement.<br><br>It would be a small matter to find out more of the woman, should she care to -- he had provided enough information that she would not even have to employ anything more than a visit with a dowager whose love of gossip about affairs and infidelity almost equaled Jazelle's pleasure in ... well.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no sense in allowing herself in getting distracted with such thoughts, as deliciously decadent as the general's agile mind and ...shaft of steel ... might prove.<br><br>Her lips curved upward in a smile, her body swaying toward his just a breath as a cool breeze from the sea rolled in and picked up the heat and incense-smoke from the burning fires and wafted it through the room, bathing them both in momentary conflicting sensations, like the flick of a heated tongue from within cool lips.&nbsp; <em>"An excellent and thorough answer, my sweet.&nbsp; So long as you do not ... deliberately misunderstand ... you will not find me overcritical."</em><br><br><em>"It occurs to me, general, that perhaps it was not her will but yours that drew the two of you back from the brink.&nbsp; I do not claim to know what was in her heart or yours ... but your society has more sympathy for a woman who is led down the proverbial path than a woman who leads.&nbsp; Some women might hold back at that final step when a cracked vow becomes broken ... in the hopes that another's passion will spare her that last, irrevocable stain and take it upon himself.&nbsp; It also occurs to me that you are not an ungenerous man."</em><br><br>The succubus was careful not to pose her musings as a question, for she had asked hers, and she did not need an answer to the unknowable.&nbsp; She wanted only to know how the king's general reacted when presented with an impartial reasonable alternative that nipped at the comfortable 'certainties.'<br><br>She fell silent, her eyes held steady upon his face as she waited, wondering which of the likely reactions that Duncan would choose.&nbsp; Here, in these close quarters, without witness and without the weight of others' expectations, she hoped to know the man behind the general, but she would have readily admitted that standing upon the brink of discovery of so many things was both exciting ... and arousing.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>04-02-2014, 18:01:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The longer her touch lingered against his skin, the more intoxicating and terrifying it was at the same time. Perhaps he simply imagined it, but the goosebumps and tingling sensation he felt across other parts of his body in reaction to her touch only confirmed - in his mind, at least - that her touch had a mystical quality to it. No, he had not felt the sudden ripping of his soul from his body, nor did he feel his heart blacken under her caress. Perhaps such effects were delayed, or would take time to manifest... and that created the 'terrifying' feeling of being touched by her.<br><br>But even more than that, his sudden -want- for her to touch him was the most terrifying aspect of all.<br><br>He continued with his tale, his eyes watching her closely for any signs of response. She was well-guarded, though, showing no overt response to any part of the story. Did she judge him? Did she seem disappointed in his words? Was he simply just another human male to her, no different than the countless prisoners she had toyed with in ages past? Or was he 'different' somehow? Had his answer been exactly what she was expecting to hear? Or had his answer surprised her in any way?<br><br>Duncan simply did not know. Her reactions were minute, barely perceptible, and he knew he would likely have to simply wait for her verbal reaction to his words in order to determine her true thoughts. But onward his tale went, to completion, without any interruption from her. <br><br>Upon finishing the retelling, Duncan surprisingly felt... cleansed. It was the strangest feeling, as he shared this tale with someone else (he had never told another soul about it, for fear of retribution against the lady in question). He wasn't altogether sure why he told this creature before him now. Was it simply to protect himself? Or was there more to it? Regardless of that reason, there was some relief in the telling. Some semblance of... <em>letting go</em>. It was as if some small nagging weight that had been applied to one shoulder for he past several years had suddenly been removed. It was noticeable enough to -almost- make him smile.<br><br>But his thoughts were interrupted when the creature Jazelle began to speak. She first confirmed that as long as his answers were not in response to an 'intentionally misunderstood' question, he should be fine. He couldn't think of an immediate example of how or why he might do that, especially if she did not try to lure information about his loyalty to the king from him, but the information was good to know nonetheless. It was a 'boundary', and he was beginning to understand that as long as he remained within -her- boundaries... there should be little reason for conflict, at least until such a time that she proved herself unworthy of his currently tenuous trust.<br><br>Jazelle then provided a response to his story, posing to him a -different- view of what had transpired between him and his former would-be lover. His brow knit together as she spoke, and his immediate reaction was to deny her, refute her ideas and claim she was mad. But when she finished with her explanation, there was a long pause before he responded.<br><br>"I suppose... that's possible," he said, an introspective look on his face. "Perhaps the years between then and now have fogged things, but at this moment, I can recall only the two deepest feelings I felt for her at that time. Love - and lust. I had never known a woman before her whom I wanted to couple with as badly as I did with her. I was younger, of course, and was more easily led astray by my lusts. I can say without any shame that since that time, I have often regretted -not- spearing her regardless, not taking her over and over again - even against her will. I had always assumed that it was my -love- for her that stopped me, not just from taking that which I desired, but also stopped me from doing something that would irrevocably harm her. At the very least, it would have stained her reputation and that of her husband. So perhaps you are right," he said with a slow nod.<br><br>"I did learn from the event, though. Ever since, my heart has been buried behind a wall of stone and steel. I will not have a similar incident take place again. Many women have tried to scale those walls, dig under them or plow through them - and all have failed. Removing that weakness from me, the capacity to fall for a woman - has made me a stronger man," he said. <br><br>"As for being ungenerous... I suppose you are correct. I do not consider myself stingy, and am usually fairly generous especially to those worthy of my respect."<br><br>Part of him wondered about her question in the first place... why would she even bother wanting to know something like that? Other than his position within the kingdom, there was nothing truly fascinating about him - so why would she even bother? Was she simply bored? He couldn't help but be curious... should he make that -his- first question? And as he thought of that - his first question - he began to wonder just -how- he would touch her, and what he would ask...<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>06-02-2014, 23:10:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"You judge love to be a weakness.&nbsp; Interesting." </em> Again, Jazelle was careful to make sure no hint of a question tinged her response.&nbsp; It was a game they played, much like that of chess with each movement calculated not only for its own sake but with an eye toward the rippling effect of the initial gambit upon the next move, and the next, and as far out as one's wits could carry them.<br><br>The succubus found chess ... boring.&nbsp; Yet when she she applied the same strategy to living beings, particularly those who did not take well to being the pawn of any, she could see the appeal, even the addiction.&nbsp; It was almost as good as good sex ... almost.<br><br>She could almost see the gears in the general's head spinning and turning.&nbsp; He was still feeling out the rules of the game, but she thought that before long he would begin to thrust and parry in earnest.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was an exciting prospect to contemplate, along with those same actions applied to the physical.&nbsp; &nbsp;Desire was like a pheromone to the succubus, sweeter than any wine and more robust than any ale, and the barest taste upon Duncan's as he thought of touching her, longed for it even as he attempted to control his lusts, was as heady as the feel of his rock-hard muscles beneath her fingertips.<br><br>She glanced toward the bed, her head raising slightly, lips parting on a hiss of anticipation that she made no attempt to hide.&nbsp; She could almost feel him beneath her ... but there was no need to spoil the lovely tension by impatience.&nbsp; Time, and trust, and acknowledgement would make it all the sweeter.<br><br><em>"You have earned a question of your own, my sweet.&nbsp; Your hesitance in asking is quite charming - I can almost see what you were like before the boy became a man.&nbsp; &nbsp;If you find yourself uncertain of the protocol involved in touching one such as myself, I can make it easier, if you desire ... a reward for your ... cooperation."</em><br><br>Jazelle extended her hand toward him, palm up in a universal invitation ... not asking, not demanding.&nbsp; &nbsp;Though the delectable general must surely have his doubts, she understood and appreciated the concept of honor.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>08-02-2014, 11:30:35</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan winced at her reply to his response, slowly shaking his head. His mind was telling him to simply shut-up and leave it at that, but his heart urged him on, urged him not to correct her assumption, but -clarify- so that she might understand. True, her statement -could- have been in the form of a question, and his silence would have forced her to ask more of it if she desired to know more. But she was incredibly intelligent, and she wanted something from him beyond money, station, or status. He enjoyed conversation when it was truly stimulating.<br><br>"Not... entirely true," he said. "Some love is a weakness, yes, but other forms of love are not. I love the kingdom I serve, including its king and its people. I consider that as something strong to hold onto, definitely not a weakness. But... to completely fall -in love- with a woman... that is as terrifying to me as it is unlikely," he said, with a shrug. "If I felt for a woman that deeply, is there nothing I wouldn't do for her? Would I not kill for her? Debase myself in whatever manner was required in order to keep her safe, to keep her -mine-? A tyrant threatens me with the death of thousands of innocents, or the death of my love... which would be the least painful?" He paused for a moment, taking a breath. "I would make -countless- widows, and do gladly, if it was to protect the woman I loved. For this reason, I shun it."<br><br>He saw her glance toward the bed, and his heartbeat faster once more. Would she? Would they? Would he depart in the morning having tasted her in all ways? Or was she simply toying with him, eager to send him home alone and eager, to find his only satisfaction in the grip of his own fists?<br><br>"Hesitance is not the reason I pause before asking," he said, smirking at her gently, glancing down at her hand. "I am merely pondering my first question... and what part of your delectable body I wish to touch first," he said, his smirk turning into a faint smile with a hint of confidence. <br><br>She offered him an interesting choice, though. Should he touch her where -he- wished, or should he place his palm in hers, and allow her to guide his hand? The curiosity burning in his mind, -where- would she put his hand? But doing so could also be construed as surrender, or allowing her to 'guide' him when he certainly needed no guidance. <br><br>Duncan drew in another breath, then slowly raised his right hand upward, gently brushing past her offered one. He meant no disrespect, and if anything, he simply meant to demonstrate that he wasn't -afraid-.<br><br>His hand moved up to the side of her face, palm facing inward. It stopped just an inch from her skin, paused for a moment, before he gently rested it against her cheek and jaw. His hand was large, powerful, fingertips calloused and tough, but that was easily made up for by the surprising tenderness he used to caress her cheek and jaw. His curiosity was ignited from the moment he was drawn through the mirror, and now he would be able to answer at least one of the many questions burning in his mind: was her skin as heavenly smooth as it appeared to be?<br><br>"My question for you, Jazelle, is this: What one thing do you desire most? Not necessarily a person, I imagine, since I suppose you desire far more than just one. But whether it's an item, a feeling, an experience, a position of power... what one thing in your long life do you desire more than any other?"<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>12-02-2014, 19:25:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>So, in addition to being truly delicious and possessed of wit, her darling general also had more than his fair share of courage.&nbsp; Most of those who dealt with ... dubious bargains ... attempted to bind themselves to the letter of the agreement made.&nbsp; They rarely realized that just such careful steps often led them so deep within the mire that when they eventually made a misstep, as they almost always did, they were swallowed up with only a few lonely bubbles to plop and fade away to mark their passage.<br><br>And while the succubus did not deal in souls anymore, she did admit to a tiny, tiny flicker of annoyance to be on the receiving end of such things.&nbsp; Lawyers and their ilk generally belonged in the abyss, and it seemed a shame not to send them there ... but in truth, they were rarely worth her trouble.<br><br>It was interesting, watching the flow of thought beneath his face.&nbsp; He did not, as some so charmingly put it, wear his heart upon his sleeve, and with only her intelligence to interpret the subtleties of the barest flicker of movement, of hesitation, eagerness, resignation and acceptance, she was far from expert.&nbsp; She could have divined more, but not only would it have jeopardized that which she would accomplish, it would have been far less interesting and exciting.&nbsp; That he felt desire -- not merely lust, though that baser reaction certainly held sway -- was .. promising, and enjoyable as the first sip of good, raw wine - both sweet and tart with an almost acrid bite of bitterness that would either transform the beverage into heady nectar, or turn it acidic and antiseptic.<br><br>Her proffered hand lowered slowly as he took the initiative to deliver his requisite touch, her eyes locked upon the general's face even as she leaned her cheek into the caress of his palm.&nbsp; As his hand moved, rough callouses upon the blade-honed digits provided a delightful contrast, and her eyes half closed for a moment in sublime appreciation.&nbsp; She knew how she felt to him - her skin was soft as that of a girl's, just come into her body's first ripeness, and warm despite the faint chill of the breeze.&nbsp; Her own desire for him heated her more than the fire, the braziers.&nbsp; The bone structure of her face hinted at delicacy, but a deeper probing -- were his fingers sensitive enough to discern it -- would reveal the belieing strength that her illusion did not seek to conceal.<br><br>His question reaffirmed her favorable impression - it was lovely to pit herself against a man so worthy of the challenge.&nbsp; She did not, however, answer immediately, but rather added another observation of his generously offered rebuttal.<br><br><em>"You champion an idealized concept of love.&nbsp; Some might wonder whether that is intentional on some level - a learned defense just as muscles are trained to bring up a shield to ward off a blow.&nbsp; Grant it too much power, and it becomes an unyielding giant that must be denied less it becomes master."&nbsp; </em>Jazelle cocked her head, not enough to dislodge his hand, but enough that her gaze was filtered through long, dark eyelashes for just a moment.<br><br><em>"But least you think I seek not to fulfill our bargain ... I suppose it would not completely truthful to say that I desire ... worthy challenge.&nbsp; I do, and it is so rarely found that I consider it a treasure that is polished to a brilliant gleam as body meets body in perfect, rhythmic harmony.&nbsp; What I desire most is ... relevance ..."</em><br><br>Just as he had provided her the opportunity to know him beneath the words he uttered, for truth was not a thing of a single level, a single surface, she stopped there and waited.&nbsp; Answers that came too easily were ultimately unsatisfying, and she wished very much to leave her delightful general satisfied in every detail.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>14-02-2014, 22:01:48</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>As Duncan awaited her response, he could see how careful and calculated she was being. An alarm blared in his mind, warning him that something else was at play here, that there was something... sinister in the air that surrounding the two of them. His mind raced, trying to figure out what it might be. He simply couldn't fathom how sharing details about himself - details he -willingly- gave - could harm him, or be used against him. Much of what he said could be verified through gossip, of course, and in perhaps pursuing such information, even more might be learned about him. True, some of the information learned through such means might be exaggerated or even completely inaccurate, but so far, Duncan hadn't felt as if had shared truly meaningful information...<br><br>Quite simply put, he had rarely thought of his own life-long plight as being anything of true interest to anyone.<br><br>Duncan would prefer that his time spent here to be interesting and... enjoyable, rather than painful and stressful. If answering her questions provided for that, then he still saw little harm in it. So Jazelle had some sort of fascination with the personal details of his life - what of it? If she kept her word and he was released at sunrise, he would return to his chambers and this would be finished. What could she possible do with the information he provided her? She would not be able to harm the kingdom or his king simply because she knew of his past...<br><br>Which of course, rendered him even -more- suspicious. Why, then, did she -care- to ask the questions she did? He had to believe that it was something more than some random interest, some passing curiosity for her. Was she simply, truly bored and had chosen him as a 'hobby' of sorts to pass the time? Or was she truly fattening him up for some sort of unseen kill?<br><br>Playing along, though, his hand slowly came to rest on her cheek, even as she leaned into his palm. Her flesh was even softer than he imagined, as if she were just a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, yet to truly see and feel the true rigors of the world around her. It was such a jarring difference that it quickly reminded him that all he saw was merely an illusion. If she could make parts of her body disappear, then surely she could make her body look and feel however she desired. <br><br>That did not stop him from enjoying the touch, though, for illusion or not - the feel of her skin was quite pleasing. It was incredibly warm to the touch, which of course immediately spawned comparisons in his mind - she was a daughter of Hell, a demon, so to feel such a warm touch should have been fully expected and entirely logical. Her facial structure hinted at nobility, which also did not surprise him, and a flutter of curiosity drifted through his mind - was there a social structure in Hell, and if so, where did she rank on its ladder? But the curiosity disappeared almost as quickly as it had been born, as his thumb very lightly, very slowly drifted down the line of her jaw and back again.<br><br>This was a woman he could become addicted to simply -touching-, he knew. A quick, stiff mental reminder of who and what she was flashed through his mind, instantly shattering any of those silly romantic notions.<br><br>She spoke - but not yet to answer his question. Instead, she made another observation of his previous words, with troubled him not. "I believe we all have our own concepts of love, and that they may very well differ widely in contrast," he said with a slight nod. "I would imagine -your- concept of love is likely far, far different than my own," he said plainly.<br><br>Her response to his question was slightly surprising to him. He had come up with his own expectations, of course, in an attempt to predict her answer. He had assume she would mention 'power' or 'prestige' or 'souls' or something nefarious like that, but instead, she responded with 'worthy challenge'... and 'relevance'... <br><br>Duncan mulled those things over in his mind. Immediately, various follow-up questions sprang to his thoughts, but he knew the rules of her game and such questions were not permitted, he was certain. Like she had done to him, though, he would likely be permitted to share his observations or thoughts. In fact, the way she hovered now seemed to indicate that she expected such a thing from him.<br><br>"A worthy challenge. If that is what you desire most, it would almost seem to me that you were bored, bored enough that you constantly seek to put your mind to the test on a regular basis, and instead of doing so amongst your own kind, you toy with mortals, possibly for their... unpredictability," he opined, biting his lower lip for a moment. "As such, I would wager that you have met your fair share of... boring mortals." He didn't bother voicing what he thought she might -do- with mortals who did not provide her with the entertainment, or 'challenge' that she sought.<br><br>He continued, as his thumb slowly trailed back down her jawline again toward her chin, moving with the same slow gentleness as before. "As for feeling relevant... that surprises me. I would imagine someone with your knowledge and power would by default be 'relevant'. Perhaps to different degrees, to different people, yet still - I suppose that depends on what manner of relevance you seek," he said. He knew he could of course be misunderstanding her meaning, but then realized that being a demon, her words might very well be -intended- to confuse him, or cloud his thinking. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-02-2014, 19:33:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>One of the things that the succubus had come to accept about humans was how much many of them cherished the familiar.&nbsp; Oh, many of them -- particularly the men -- would tell you how they craved new and different, excitement and the extraordinary, but peel away the surface bravado and there was always the caveat that the new not be too different from the old.&nbsp; So long as you left that familiar core for them to cling to, all was well, but strip it away and fear and automatic rejection stepped in to take its place.<br><br>She had not been that different, she supposed.&nbsp; Once, she had done only what was expected of her without question.&nbsp; She had reveled in it, and enjoyed her successes -- enjoyed them with utter abandon, and raged at her defeats, though there had not been many.&nbsp; Life had been simple then, lacking in depth, and even in the perception of the wonder of layers upon layers, wheels within wheels that she now felt all around her, in eve the smallest things.<br><br>Though he did not voice it, she could all but taste Duncan's suspicion, and the peppery taste of his unease.<br><br>She chuckled, turning her head so that the heat of her breath washed over his thumb and finger, the motion slow enough to be more playful than threatening. <em> "You might be surprised."</em><br><br>Whether that referred to his comment about their views upon love, or how many boring mortals she had met, she did not clarify.&nbsp; Assumptions were sometimes answers in and of themselves, or at least the beginnings of one, and Jazelle adored all things that exceeded her expectations.&nbsp; Though she could and sometimes did demand much, like most human women of her experience, she also valued those things that were ... gifted, and her appreciation was not limited to things.<br><br><em>"There is much knowledge to be found in the king's library ... and much power in storms of any kind, leveling the strongest structures that your architects can build upon a whim, and a child bearing all its parents hopes and dreams, may be sacrificed upon a battlefield with less regret than a pawn is discarded upon a chess board."</em><br><br>There was much, too, that could be learned by something so simple as the almost innocent touch that the general was bestowing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even by the terms of their bargain, a bargain that he must be wondering why she had made, there were safer avenues, bolder approaches, defiances that he could have chosen instead of a touch that he might have bestowed upon a human woman whose favor he courted.<br><br><em>"A promising beginning," </em>she said.&nbsp; <em>"You show ... much promise ... my general." </em> Jazelle's eyes slid lazily from his face downward, as she stepped away from his touch unhurriedly, though not without a slight lowering of her eyelids to signify the regret.<br><br><em>"Yet you have come here half dressed ... and though I heartily approve, and look forward to seeing the rest as bare as the half, I would not wish you to be chilled or grow weary, or my neck to grow stiff.&nbsp; &nbsp;Sit ... where ever you wish ... and we can continue ... getting to know one another."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle gestured expansively, gathering in the large, heavy, almost throne like chairs, the bed, and even the rugs upon the floor.<br><br>She did not use the collar's magic to compel, not just yet.&nbsp; If he refused, she thought, perhaps she would, simply so that he truly understood the difference between what she could do and what she did.&nbsp; It was a small thing, but all large things were ultimately composed of smaller things, were they not.<br><br>Leaving him to decide what course he would choose, she turned as sashayed her way across the room to one of the cabinets that held a number of decanters.&nbsp; She chose one after a few moments of reflection, and used it to fill two crystal goblets with a rich, amber-colored liquid that she held up toward the light to appreciate for a moment before turning her attention back to the delightful general.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-02-2014, 22:25:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><em> "You might be surprised."</em><br><br>Duncan had no doubt that she could tell him nearly endless stories about herself that would surprise him. Many would likely appall him, even perhaps frighten him. Some might put him in awe and some, perhaps a few he would imagine, might even bring a tear to his eye. But there was one thing he was quite sure of: no matter how much he 'expected the unexpected', he was sure that this creature before him could -definitely- surprise him in some way, shape, or form.<br><br>She then spoke of libraries of kings and the power of storms, and children bearing their parent's hopes and expectations, and those same children dying on a battlefield for little to nothing in return for it. It was almost a riddle, yet he agreed with all parts of her statement, and he replied only with a silent, solemn nod of his head.<br><br>Of all parts of her delicious body that he could have touched, he had chosen her face. He wasn't sure if she suspected why, or if she even cared, and unless he asked, he figured there was no reason to share or consider it further.<br><br>She responded then with praise, seeming to indicate that his question and subsequent discussion had shown her 'promise' in some regard. He could only assume that it was a promise of 'amusement' to her, and nothing more. If she wasn't interested in his King's defenses and tactics, then he, a General, had no idea what reason she would have to dally with a mortal such as himself, when she likely had countless other beings with whom to consort. <br><br>Jazelle stepped away from his touch casually, without hurry, and he immediately missed the kiss of her skin against his palm when she moved away. He lowered his hand to his side. She spoke then of sitting, Her gesture seemed to invite him to sit where he would, and he gave the room a second, slower glance. There were the chairs... which would constrict his movement, if movement was needed. Then there was the bed - and as inviting as it was, it might signal a desire he felt that he did not wish to portray. So the floor, then, as his eyes gazed around to what would appear to be the most comfortable-looking spot on the rug, and casually he walked over to it and sat down, cross-legged. <br><br>Again, he saw no reason to refuse. He certainly did not wish to remain standing the entire night, especially if their question-and-answer game was to continue. <br><br>"Thank you," he said politely for her offer to sit - though in truth he had not taken it as an offer - but as a command. Still, even though he was unsure as to her intent, he accepted graciously as a polite visitor would, deciding that holding to good manners for the time being would not do any harm.<br><br>As he lowered himself into a comfortable position, his eyes glued to her backside as she walked across the room to a cabinet from which she produced some sort of drink, pouring some into two goblets. It would seem an odd thing to him for her to poison him, and though he was untrusting of her, he still trusted his gut enough to assume the drink would be safe, should she offer one to him.<br><br>In the meantime, the general merely sat quietly and waited. It was her turn for a question, or perhaps she would expand on her previous answer, depending on how talkative she was. At the moment, he was inclined to enjoy a simple conversation with her, but he felt there was -meaning- behind the 'procedure' she had put into place, and part of him eagerly awaited the touch of her skin on his once more.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-02-2014, 21:39:45</strong>
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				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div>​Though she did not watch the General's actions, Jazelle was aware of them.&nbsp; Fight it though he did, there was no way to conceal sexual desire from a full blooded succubus -- it registered on all her senses at once, like a perfume that had color, heat, and hum, and there was no way that he could, even had he tried, moved without her awareness, unless he could squelch that desire.<br><br>It was refreshing that he did not seem to even truly try to do so.&nbsp; Denial was the most useless of all human affectations - no battle had ever been won by denying the enemy, though she would certainly have argued that desire was hardly something to be conquered.<br><br>When the goblets were full to her satisfaction, she lifted both and carried them to the rug where he sat, making the most of his line of sight to ensure that his desire, and curiosity, did not wane overmuch.&nbsp; The skirt she had selected was perfect for drawing the eye, revealing the smooth bare skin of her calves, thighs and hips in graduated glimpses as she walked, the sway of her hips exaggerating both the gaps and the availability of the view.<br><br>There, she handed him both goblets, relying upon his prior demonstration of courtesy to make either a request or demand unnecessary, and folded herself down directly in front of him in a gesture that highlighted her body's inhuman grace.&nbsp; The boots were not ideal for sitting in such a position, but a well-played game demanded it.&nbsp; Her knees and a good bit of her thighs were put on display as the soft leather slid down to provide both modesty and temptation, and there was but a hair's breadth between their knees -- a closeness that she could feel, as tangible as a touch, and she thought that he could feel it as well.<br><br>One hand extended slightly, in expectation that he would return one of the drinks to her.&nbsp; The glass contained a potent honey mead, its sweetness tempered with the tang of juniper berries, a ceremonial drink of the warrior tribes of the north - a drink to be savored rather than quaffed, but strong enough to smooth the edges of both inhibitions and fears, with just enough bite from the berries to awaken the mouth to taste and sensation.<br><br><em>"Knowledge and power are not ends unto themselves, my sweet.&nbsp; They offer only the potential for relevance ... and as I am sure you are aware, there are as many levels of relevance as there are levels of passion.&nbsp; A scorned lover with knowledge and power may certainly attain relevance until she has blunted her weapons with their use ..."</em><br><br>It was, Jazelle thought, something of a universal truth that many learned just a bit too late.&nbsp; A weapon in the hand of a simpleton was more likely to do the wielder harm than another - it was a tool that offered only the potential of victory.<br><br>The same was true of the enchantment upon the collar that so invitingly enhanced the muscular neck of one of the land's premier warriors.&nbsp; With it, she could indeed bend him to her will for<br>&nbsp;a time, perhaps even addict him to the heady pleasures that she could provide.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet, used as a key to gain admittance to the general's keep, so to speak, rather than a weapon to lay waste to his defenses, she saw so much greater potential.<br><br>It was no great thing to praise a man's strengths ... it was a more subtle but lasting power, perhaps even relevance, to reveal his weaknesses in confidence and help him turn them to strengths.<br><br><em>"And now for the next turn ... "</em><br><br>Duncan had helpfully removed part of his attire before donning the collar, and his choice of seating made it perfectly reasonable, at least to the succubus' way of thinking, to divest him of a bit more of it in keeping with their agreement while continuing to stimulate his thoughts ... and other areas as well.&nbsp; &nbsp;To that effect, she reached out and grasped the toe of the finely knitted boot sock upon his left foot, and tugged it free, exerting only as much force as necessary to accomplish the task.<br><br>To the general, she offered no excuses or apologies for the action, but rather simply folded the garment and set it aside before letting her fingers stroke from the arch of his foot top to his toes, leaning in so that her bare knees pressed against his, cushioned lightly by his pants.<br><br><em>"Many blades bear a double edge, my general.&nbsp; Tis true of the instrument of steel that you bear in your hand when you go to battle .... yet 'tis also true of the length that pulses between your legs.&nbsp; My question then is this ... while I have no doubt that you have used this sword to make many a woman swoon with delight ... have you also used it to dispense punishment, deserved or other?"</em><br><br>Her palm joined her fingers in the caress of his foot, her thumb pressing both firmly and sensually, seeking the tensions and teasing at them, while her eyes remained on his face.<br><br>There was no accusation in the question, only patient expectation.&nbsp; Honor was an interesting thing - would his compel an answer of any question, even those that laid parts of him bare, so long as she did not threaten his duty?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>01-03-2014, 12:12:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>No matter how much Duncan wished to control his... urges, for some reason he could not help himself. His entire body was tense, similar to the feeling he had just before a major battle was joined. This was a battle of sorts, yes, with just one opponent, but it felt every bit as important as his most serious conflict. To that end, the frustration he felt because he could not completely -control- his body was only more palpable to him. Or, was that 'frustration' simple his body's way of telling him what it -needed-? Watching Jazelle and the way she walked stirred things within him. As if her beauty, her curves, and her scent weren't enough, the way her hips swayed when she moved -almost- had him following her, like some puppy seeking milk.<br><br>Sheer force of will allowed him to remain still, though, and keep his thoughts to himself. The ache in his loins, he could ignore. She would -not- have him eating out of her palm, demon or not, and if she eventually did so by some unknown means, he was bound to make her work for it, or pay a dear price for it.<br><br>He focused, keeping his thoughts away from the sensual. It was only when she hinted at it, dropping a short, brief wisp of sexual desire that he felt his imagination beginning to roam again. As ancient as she likely was, she'd likely had countless lovers, and he would simply be one of many, likely forgotten the next day as she moved on in search of another toy. That, more than anything, infuriated him. True, he had done similar with women in his life, especially over the past decade or more, but they had come willingly to him. They had placed themselves on all fours before him, begging him to be their master. Duncan, himself... did -not- beg.<br><br>She walked back to him, that look on her face that seemed to silently say, <em>'Look at me. Feast on me with your eyes: I am owed your lust, and I am -used- to it.'</em> She offered him both goblets, and he took them without hesitation. There was only a brief glimpse of imaginary thought this time - a fleeting thought of his tongue lightly licking a trail up the thigh that his eyes could see - but it was just a glimpse, and was forced away quickly.<br><br>Her hands free of the goblets, she set herself down in front of him, moving with inhuman grace. To say she was flexible would have been an understatement, and another small surge of his will to keep himself from imagining what he could do with -that- was expended. ~A snake is also quite flexible...~ he reminded himself, keeping in mind that she was not at all what she seemed to be. She sat close to him, their knees almost touching.<br><br>She extended one hand, to which he politely delivered one of the goblets - whichever one seemed more full, of course. The less he drank, he believed, the better off he would be, even if it was only one swallow less of her infernal concoction. Slowly, he moved the cup beneath his nose and inhaled the scent. It was familiar, reminding him of some sort of drink from the northlands. A hint of honey, as well as a hint of berry. Watching her and letting her take the first sip, he then did the same after she did, sipping once at the rim of his goblet before setting it aside. They had hours ahead of them, so he was in no hurry. The taste was close to what he expected: sweetness with a hint of berry to counter it a bit so that the honey wasn't overpowering. To him, a drink that was too sweet was just as bad as a drink that was too bitter. Perfection would be found in the middle-ground.<br><br>She spoke then of knowledge and power, and he nodded in agreement with her assessment. Her example was spot on, as well - which was one reason he was such a private person, especially where lovers were concerned. He never 'let them in'. -<em>Ever-</em>. Giving them power, as that one true love had whom he had describe to Jazelle already, provided too much danger, too much influence over him which he was not at all comfortable with. A person who knew him too well would be able to control him to some degree, and that was a feeling he simply had no desire in ever feeling again.<br><br>"Often, when it comes to things like power and knowledge both, it is what one -does- with it that defines them, that makes them 'relevant'. Not the simple fact that they possess it," he said, brow furrowed in thought. "A similar thing is often said about... skill in the bedroom. A man with average endowments might pleasure a woman more than a generously endowed man, if he knows better what to -do- with what he has," he offered. <br><br>He decided to take a sip to hide the sudden surprise in his mind. Had he just.... <em>flirted</em> with her? How pathetic, he scolded himself. Or was it simply that he badly wanted <em>-her-</em> to feel the same sort of 'discomfort' that he was feeling in his core at that moment? <br><br>Thankfully, she moved on to the next turn - her next question. But first... she removed one of his socks. The garment slid from his foot with the barest caress of his skin, as she seemed in no hurry to remove it. He did not resist, seeing no need to as of yet. Thankfully, he had worn it -only- for the gala that evening, so it was still relatively clean. She simply folded it and set it aside, then moved her fingers back to his bare foot - stroking the arch slowly, moving up to the toes. She moved her own body closer so that her knees gently edged up against his own, separated only barely by the thin linen cloth of his pants.<br><br>He barely withheld the shudder that threatened to pass through him at the touch on his foot, the skin sensitive but not ticklish like most people. At least the arch itself wasn't nor were his toes. Her touch was as he had felt before, and the faint longing of wanting -more- floated through his mind, and not for the first time. His eyes followed her hand as it moved along his skin, at least until he heard her speak again, moving on to the next question.<br><br>It was quite the direct question, and he immediately knew the answer, of course. In hopes of continuing their generally pleasant discussion, he did not hesitate to respond. Besides, talking meant that he would not be likely to focus on her touch as her hand began to more thoroughly massage his foot, and the more she did it... the more he liked it.<br><br>"Yes," he said, quite plainly. "In several instances, yes. I am not proud of a few of those ways, of course. When I was much younger, barely a man, I was... ruled by the motivations that young men usually are: the seeking of glory, the desire to make a name for myself, the amassing of wealth, and.... lust," he said. "As such, during my earliest campaigns while fighting enemies to the east and especially to the south, our armies were defeated more often than not. Frustration was rampant, morale was constantly low. During the few rare victories we had, often, there would be... spoils," he said.<br><br>He then took a moment to take another sip from the goblet, then set it aside. Clearing his throat softly, he continued. "On several occasions, i was presented with the opportunity to enjoy such spoils. Usually average-looking native women - the good looking ones were already given to the leaders and officers, of course. Being a slave to my own desires, and more than that, having the urge to exact some sort of.... revenge, or punishment on the enemy, I took part with abandon."<br><br>Duncan took another breath. "Thankfully, we lost far more than we won. After perhaps a dozen such incidents, it began to weigh upon me. Raping the women of the enemy did nothing for the battle. The enemy were defeated, and raping was simply a means by which to add insult to the defeated. I tried to justify it to myself - the women were usually spared, so they were allowed to live, which was more than could be said for most of their men-folk who rotted or were fed upon by the crows. And I also reminded myself that the enemy performed the exact same atrocities on -our- women, so, it was fair, yes?" he said, shaking his head. "I grew out of it quickly, and have never regretted it. I was not 'punishing' the enemy nation by committing rape, I realized. I was punishing those women for simply being in the wrong place, at the wrong time."<br><br>"I have, of course, also used that 'sword' for play, as well," he said, changing the subject and looking relieved by doing so. "Some bed-partners truly enjoy 'dominance' play, with myself as the dominant of course," he said. "And when they misbehaved, they would need to be 'punished'. And, I would punish them in a variety of ways, and some of those ways included by the use of the tools - and weapons - at my disposal," he said with a completely straight face. He assumed she would understand his meaning, since she was the one who had used the analogy in the first place.<br><br>Duncan realized he didn't have to share so much, once more. But this information was harmless, he was sure. Did she truly want to know how he used his cock? Did she truly want to know how he dispensed punishment with it? None of these details would give her power of his king or the kingdom, so he felt no harm in sharing. She could judge him if she wished, but as he reminded himself - she was a <em>demon</em>. In his opinion, her judgment did not mean that much, and any words of righteous indignation she might throw his way would weigh little upon him.<br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>10-03-2014, 19:51:26</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>There were those who never gave consideration to the power of a touch, outside the limited scope of acceptability and base necessity.&nbsp; Their clasps of hand were a demonstration of strength and little more, their hugs more a reminder than a comfort.&nbsp; When they joined with another, their hands moved only to the most obvious of the erogenous zones, as if lovemaking were a race and spurs dug into their sides urging them to the finish.<br><br>Oh, Jazelle didn't deny that there was also a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction to be had from a hard and fast coupling, the fury of bodies slamming together in a fusion of pleasure that needed little in the way of tender caress.&nbsp; Yet to have built to that crescendo, the music had been playing subtly in the background for some time - touches delivered in the form of glances, inconspicuous movement, words that acted upon the body and head in concert. <br><br>Her hand continued it's caress of the general's foot, unhurried, pressing and seeking out the lines of the bone beneath and the firmness of muscle.&nbsp; His foot warmed beneath her touch, and she could see the barest flicker of heat in his eyes as he tore them away, seeking distraction of words.&nbsp; <br><br>The other hand lifted the goblet to her face, where she breathed in the scent for a moment, using the cup to emphasize her eyes as she listened to him speak.&nbsp; That he did not seek either to make light of such actions, nor shrink from them was interesting, and encouraging.&nbsp; Perhaps, though, it was only because of what she was that he spoke so openly.&nbsp; If he assumed she had done, and did, things much more terrible, then why not speak freely?<br><br><em>"I do not mean to question your conclusion, but ... it seems to me that these women whom you took against their will were not being punished for being at the wrong place at the wrong time -- but rather because they were on the losing side of a conflict.&nbsp; &nbsp;Such is the way of battles and of wars, yet victors and losers do not always choose their sides.&nbsp; It is chosen for them, and they have neither the knowledge nor the understanding to say 'yea' or 'nay'."</em><br><br>It was not the way of her sisters, nor herself, to bed those without desire.&nbsp; That was not to say that she had not taken 'free' choice from those who might have declined her attentions by the exploitation of those desires.&nbsp; Even so, she would leave such judgements to others -- she had touched upon what she had wished, and it was more than enough.&nbsp; Few in the nether realms had the power to take a succubus against her will, and for those powerful enough to accomplish it, it was far better simply to become willing -- that in itself made them less appealing targets.<br><br><em>"Many wish to be punished for their transgressions - and if the ones they undertake will not stand the light of day, any will do," </em>Jazelle observed mildly as her thumb circled the arch of his foot, followed by the gentle intrusion of her fingertips between the toes, where skin sensitive to the touch was sheltered.<br><br>As he had answered her question, and she had made her observations, with that, she gently withdrew her hand and sat back, though the space between them was not much more than a hair's breadth.&nbsp; Patiently, she took up her goblet, and dipped a finger into the amber liquid, stirring it for a moment before guiding it to her lips where she sucked away the liquid with unconcealed enjoyment.&nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-03-2014, 21:36:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazell's touch on his foot had a far more profound effect than he imagined it would - and the longer she did it, the more noticeable it was. He was convinced there was some dark magic at work here, some sort of enchantment she used to make her hands feel as soft as they were, to make her touch as gentle as it was, to make the effect as poignant as he felt. It was his -foot-, yet he could only imagine what that same hand, that same touch would feel like wrapped around his girth.<br><br>Quickly he stuck the thought from his mind. He had to maintain focus. So far, he felt he had done well. She had not been angered, nor had she any reason to be violent. The collar around his neck hung a vague cloud of humiliation above his head, but as far as he could tell, only she could see it, and for that the humiliation was minimal. <br><br>As before, she gave him her own assessment of his words. She seemed to enjoy offering him a different viewpoint of his thoughts, providing a different angle from the eyes of someone who was on the outside looking in, hearing his words and sharing her thoughts from a different perspective. Was she right or wrong? Neither, truly. It was an act of expressing opinions, and he rather enjoyed that, especially when the woman he was engaged with actually had the capacity not to sound like a simple farm girl.<br><br>"That might be true to some extent," he countered gently. "I just know that, at the time, in that moment... each thrust I gave felt to me to be similar to the thrust of my blade into their men-folk. I was never one for slaying women out of hand: they are the life-givers, they bear our children for generations to come after us, just as they had done before us. Men can and should die for refusing to submit to their betters, but women... they live on, bearing those that come after us," he said. "But the 'punishment' given them by myself and others... you are correct, they truly had little say in the matter, nor understanding. While I participated in such activities in my youth, I no longer see it that way, obviously. Now - I understand that what you say is more along the lines of reality."<br><br>He couldn't help a small sigh - accompanied by a faint, very slight moan when her fingers slipped between his toes. That was sensual to him, just as if she had slipped her fingers between his own fingers. There was something... intimate about the gesture, at least for him. His jaw clenched as he quickly reined in the enjoyment of the moment. Moments later, she slowly withdrew her hand and sat back quietly, tending to her drink with a finger dipped into the amber liquid, then brought to her lips.<br><br>It was his turn, obviously, and after a brief pause to ensure she had no further words to say, he set his goblet aside and leaned forward. His hands moved slowly, together, to settle upon one of -her- ankles. But instead of copying what she had done, his hands moved upwards, sliding along her skin, slipping easily beneath any cloth his hands might encounter as he made his way from her ankle to her calf. There, one hand glided slowly back and forth along her shin, while the other hand, big and strong, slid beneath to cradle her calf muscle, gently massaging it. Her skin was so smooth, perfection if he had to put a name to it, and the curve of her calf so incredibly appealing. <br><br>Licking his lips, his eyes rose to meet hers so that he could ask his question.<br><br>"What is the -real- reason you have brought me here, Jazelle?" 
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-03-2014, 21:00:40</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"Betters ...." </em> Jazelle spoke only one word, its volume barely more than a whisper.&nbsp; Her expression spoke not so much a question, but as a simple tick mark or place holder for a point that needed further discussion at some later point.<br><br>Rape such as the general described, was the wasteful hallmark of the lazy and the squanderers of opportunity.&nbsp; Even as a way of humiliating a rebel or an enemy, it did not maximize the effect.&nbsp; It was the triumph of the mob, of the base emotions without reason, without thought for the future ... and that thought offended the succubus more than any physical act.<br><br>Yet that was neither here nor there, and she had no desire to evoke guilt or blame for deeds long past.&nbsp; Those seeds had been cast, and the fruit of them made. <br>&nbsp;<br>Jazelle's senses noted the general's reaction to her touch with as much attention to detail as she paid to his responses.&nbsp; Deny it though he might, the associations he had with her had shifted, and the desire he felt for her was slowly growing as his resistance faded as she engaged both mind and body in the subtle assault.<br><br>This opportunity would not be wasted, not so long as there was any potential for success. <br><br>She continued to transfer the rich, warm taste of the strong drink from the cup to her lips in the same manner, licking droplets from her fingertip, spreading it upon her lips until they glistened in the light from the braziers, sucking her finger softly and with evident enjoyment as Duncan's hands slid beneath the panel of her skirt and along the soft, supple leather of her heeled boot to the bare flesh of her leg above it.<br><br>Lips parted as she watched hungrily, breathing in as his head raised to hers once more so that she could keep control of her body's own awakening, sipping at it as she did the drink, savoring.&nbsp; His hand was gentle upon her leg, the squeeze of his hand one that pleasured rather than threatened pain, and the pleasure he took from granting that touch was in the sudden dryness of his lips, and the faint glimmer of heat in his eyes even as he posed his question.<br><br>Her eyes held his for a long moment, her leg shifting subtly within his hands both to shift the cloth and provide a further glimpse of the softly tan skin of her inner thigh and to ease his access as a rumble of pleasure rippled from her abdomen up to her throat, a sound not terribly unlike the purr of a well satisfied cat.<br><br><em>"I have not given you any false reasons for your presence here, my general.&nbsp; If you wish the most basic reason ... the mark of any civilized society is the acceptance of obligations, Duncan.&nbsp; I have sworn no fealty to any king, of any realm, yet just as you serve your king, I serve my debt.&nbsp; &nbsp;Much of the world has not yet opened to you, my general.&nbsp; You see many things through eyes forged by that hammer.&nbsp; &nbsp;Tonight, if only for tonight, you do not command and the weight of lives does not hang upon your every action, your every restraint. "</em><br><br>Jazelle shifted her leg in his grasp as she timed the words and the stroking of his hands, smiling just a bit as his hand rode up just a wee bit higher.&nbsp; &nbsp; <em>"If you wish a clearer answer from my lips, you must wait until after the cock crows upon the dawn."&nbsp; </em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>27-03-2014, 17:02:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan shrugged slightly when she repeated the word, 'Betters'. He took it that she wasn't fond of the way he had used the word, but the way he had used it was the way he was familiar with. At the very least, he and his comrades had 'bettered' their foes in combat, and as was usual in the world in which they existed, to the victors go the spoils.<br><br>Besides, he was more focused on the feel of her flesh beneath his hand than anything else at the moment. Her leg was shapely and toned, every bit as supple as he imagined it would be and perhaps even more so. His vivid imagination could picture both of these legs wrapped around his hips - or his neck - or draped down his back in various positions of pleasure. He knew of course that the creature before him could appear however she wished, that her body could conform to whatever shape she demanded of it. She had even made parts of her body -disappear- from view... that was a neat trick than many fat merchants and whores back in the capitol would love to be able to do. Perhaps, though, Jazelle had some sort of mind-reading ability, for everything he saw, every touch he felt, was made as if pulled from his very deepest desires. She wasn't just 'beautiful', she was -perfect-, fitting the image of what he desired in a woman - at least so far.<br><br>The touch seemed to be to her liking, a soft purr confirming his suspicions. Her leg moved, the skirt parting even more, revealing a dark, creamy glimpse of her inner thigh - the next logical place his hands might roam. But instead, they remained right where they were: on her shapely calf, slowly massaging back and forth - and then, after a few moments of this, near the end of her answer - he gently raked his nails down the flesh beneath his hand, from the back of her knee down to the back of her ankle - slow and tantalizing.<br><br>Two could play her game.<br><br>The answer to his question had been a bit of a dodge, he noticed. Her words were mixed with a bit of vagueness, and a dash of avoidance. She went on, even clarifying that a clear answer to his question must wait for dawn. In essence, he would receive his answer in actions and experience, rather than words. Immediately he realized that by the time dawn approached, either something very bad - or very good - was going to happen. So bad - or so good - that she refused to inform him ahead of time. Duncan wasn't keen on 'surprises' - usually in his position, 'surprises' were negative and represented some sort of enemy movement that had to be countered. But despite this predilection to the defensive, his movements changed not, his demeanor did not alter. And most certainly, his hands continued to caress for a bit longer as if he were pondering her response - when really, he was simply enjoying the touch of her skin in his hands a bit longer.<br><br>"Fair enough," he smiled at her. "This is your home, of course, with your rules. If you wish to be cryptic in your answers, I can understand that," he nodded sweetly. "I admit, being in a position where I do not command nor do lives pivot on my every decision is rather... relaxing," he offered. "But restraint is almost always a helpful tool, coming in handy in many situations," he confessed. It had taken him a -lot- of restraint not to choose more choice locations of her body to touch. It had taken a -lot- of restraint not to panic upon arriving here. It had taken a -lot- of restraint not to test her ability to -keep- him here, to prevent him from struggling against her. <br><br>But, slowly, his hands then withdrew from her skin - reluctance to do so obvious in the slowness of the withdrawal. He sat back, then, relaxed, and took a small sip from his goblet, setting it aside once more as he awaited her next question.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-04-2014, 18:43:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>Military men, in Jazelle's opinion, liked direct and concise answers to their questions, except when they already knew the answers but wanted the opportunity to claim otherwise under scrutiny.&nbsp; Not so the succubus.&nbsp; Direct answers were boring, and they were too often dismissive - a way to minimize the time allocated, particularly when they were not in control of a situation.&nbsp; Jazelle loved conversation, particularly the kind that built an anticipation for the very physical activity of sex.<br><br>She loved a good battle with words almost as much as she loved a good tumble, in fact.&nbsp; When the two fit together, the resulting ecstasy of mind and body was memorable, even for a succubus.&nbsp; Sadly, the facility for both was all too often lacking, and she had to make do with one or the other.&nbsp; So far, the signs pointed to this occasion being one of those high points, providing that the delectable general have endurance in both.<br><br>The withdrawal of his hands from her leg was marked with the brief closing of her eyes, as she quashed the momentary desire to simply advance and bear him down to the floor, to see how well his restraint held up under the onslaught of relentless hunger.&nbsp; She exhaled, deep and long, as if expelling the errant thought, then lifted her head to stare directly into Duncan's eyes, allowing some of the hungers aroused by both his touch and his presence silent voice.<br><br>That the general was not unmoved by that same sort of anticipation made the wait all the sweeter, and she would not allow herself to be hurried in this, even by herself.<br><br><em>"This is a somewhat unusual perspective from a warrior, or so I would venture.&nbsp; Often, it seems that the reputation of a leader of armies hinges upon how efficiently and brutally they engage." </em> Despite the observation, she was cautiously pleased by the admission - if it were truly spoken, then perhaps the lesson that she was to impart was not such a difficult one.&nbsp; The general would be a much more valuable ally if he stood with the king out of conviction as well as duty.<br><br>Yet that was only a peripheral concern -- she preferred focusing her energies on games more individual and immediate.&nbsp; Kings, diplomats, and even generals were welcome to the untidy business of broad spectrum politics and conflict.&nbsp; Give her a worthy single opponent and she would work out the threads to pull with patient detail to accomplish her objective, and war and occasionally peace would rage on as they would despite the best efforts of all.<br><br>The succubus lifted herself easily in one smooth, fluid movement to her knees, the soft leather of her skirt falling as if by design not to impede her movement, and crawled forward into the general's personal space in the moment of distraction provided by his relinquishment of the goblet.&nbsp; There was no clumsiness or visible awkwardness as she almost seemed to flow astraddle his bent legs, the weight of her body settling upon him partially as she half-sat upon his lap, with her hands coming to rest upon his shoulders.<br><br>From the weight, her body was substantial rather than gossamer, and her fingers tightened both for balance and the indication that she was alert for the potential of meeting resistance to this particular touch.&nbsp; Though hunger left its mark upon her face, there was amusement as well, and assessment as she settled in place with her face, and other features as well, inches from the corresponding points on her general.<br><br>She had her next question all ready, but chose to delay until she knew how he would choose to play out this turn of the game.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>07-04-2014, 20:15:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>It wasn't lost on Duncan that Jazelle loved conversation. This one had carried on far longer than he had already expected. By now, he had expected threats and violence, the way demons were -supposed- to behave: blood and pain, screams and torture. But so far, the meeting had been -far- different than he imagined it would be. Which wasn't to say it wasn't enjoyable - because it was. She was a good conversationalist, didn't prattle on about stupid subjects as the ladies of the court were often wont to do, and of course she was incredibly pleasing to the eye. <br><br>Jazelle had to know that Duncan wanted her. Any man would - except those who sought only the company of other men, and Duncan was definitely not one of their kind, for certain. For now, though, Duncan had to operate under the assumption that Jazelle knew this, and might seek to use it - or any other form of 'weakness' - against him. She had turned their talk into a 'game', and he had already been wondering if there would be a 'winner' and a 'loser'... and what bane or boon either of them would receive.<br><br>Being the observant man he was, he noted her eyes closed for a moment when he withdrew his hands from her skin, and at other times she had made minute gestures that told him she was enjoying his touch - maybe not as much as he was enjoying -hers-, but, he did not know her well enough to make that far of an assumption. Still, if she was enjoying this, he couldn't help but wonder if this was all some sort of foreplay, some lead-up to an inevitable clash of some kind that would erupt into an orgy of.... what? Lust? Blood? Destruction and suffering? It was hard to tell when dealing with the denizens of the abyss, or so the stories went. If he were truly unlucky, the end might include <em>all the above</em>.<br><br>She was -expecting- certain things, he was sure. Panic? Begging? Or did she expect him to rush her and try to force himself upon her? Fear? Yes, these were things she was likely expecting a mortal like him to succumb to, but if that were true, then he was going to disappoint her something fierce. But he had little control over -certain- reactions, and they both probably knew that. <br><br>"An unusual perspective, indeed. But much of my success has come from being... -<em>unusual-</em>," he replied to her assessment, a hint of a smile on his lips. He was definitely unconventional - especially in his early years when he was overly eager to make a name for himself. In recent years, he'd taken a slightly more conservative approach: the kingdom was doing well, and greater risks provided little in the way of benefit to a kingdom that seemed to have all it could ever want, for the most part. It wasn't always like that, though, and early on, greater risks were warranted, a more radical mind had been needed - and the King had found that in Duncan.<br><br>"And fear not, my lady," he teased lightly. "I am still able to engage efficiently and brutally... when the situation warrants," he confessed. And this much had always been true, as well, no matter where the battlefield was - including the one between the sheets.<br><br>Then, she was moving, and his eyes watched her both warily, as well as with a faint hint of longing. As he set his goblet aside, she was nearing him, and he did well to remain calm and not shy away. Her body seemed to almost -flow- into position, settling down upon his lap, straddling him as her hands came to rest on his shoulders. It was a move he wagered she had done countless times before, which made it so easy for her, of course. <br><br>He did not try to avoid her touch or pull away, but the tension in his torso was noticeable to her hands, for certain. He was prepared to move - or at least attempt to, if need be, but so far, he remained still, using his hands to prop himself up, refusing the urge to place them upon her body - for it wasn't time for him to do so as of yet. Her face was so close that he was able to inspect it more thoroughly than before, but how did one judge -perfection-? It was simple enough to declare her countenance to be 'perfect', but then what? Stare in awe and nothing more? So he tried that - simply gazing back at her face, ever perfect curve and surface, looking into her eyes when their gazes met.<br><br>Duncan could not help at least a -small- betrayal from his body: his hips rose slightly upward to meet her as she settled upon him. Internally he groaned and scolded himself for being so -forward-, so -obvious-. It wasn't as if his hips had bucked upward furiously, but even the slightest move he knew she would catch. Would she consider it some sort of tiny victory? Another 'tick' in her score column, as she mentally tallied the ways she had enticed him so far? He couldn't help but wonder if she could -feel- the solid thickness just beneath the front of his breeches, eager to escape, and he suddenly was sure that she already knew it was -there-, even before she made her latest move.<br><br>It was a struggle not to lower his eyes to examine the rest of her so close to him, now. Topless as he was, the urge to press her against him was strong, as well. Was she hoping this move would cause him to lose control? So that she could punish him somehow? He didn't quite know her game plan yet, but with every question they shared, he felt as if he were growing closer to understanding it more fully.<br><br>"Your turn," he whispered, her face inches from his. Was that all this was? Some sort of contest to see who would 'blink' first? But instead of 'blinking', the contest was to see who would lose control first?<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-04-2014, 19:55:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>​Ordinary men had little to fear from succubi.&nbsp; Had Jazelle made that declaration, she would have likely been greeted, at best, with a skeptically raised eyebrow.&nbsp; &nbsp; Nonetheless, like almost all of what she uttered, it would have been the truth.&nbsp; ​The most an ordinary man had to fear from a succubus was that he would wander into her path when she had been otherwise thwarted in her desires.&nbsp; Such an unfortunate would most likely experience a brief interlude of ecstasy and then a rapid but painful demise ... or a moment of heart-stopping terror and a rapid demise.&nbsp; All the same, it was a matter of wrong place, wrong time rather than design, and probably no more dangerous that being run down by a carriage when taking reasonable care or being hit by lightning while sleeping indoors in ones bed.<br><br>That fact was not due, however, to any particular generosity or lack of danger inherent in succubi, but rather the plain fact that ordinary men offered little to no benefit to such a creature.&nbsp; Their souls were too insubstantial to contain much in the way of nourishment or barter, and fear softened the one thing they had to offer if they had wit enough to realize their danger.<br><br>The general was far from usual, common, or conventional.&nbsp; Jazelle, herself, was not exactly standard succubus material, though what separated her from her sisters was profound enough to be of little moment to those ordinary men.&nbsp; To an extraordinary man, however ...<br><br>Jazelle had high hopes that Duncan was such a man.&nbsp; &nbsp;Already he was proving himself worth her interest.&nbsp; &nbsp; She could see his mind working behind his eyes, questioning, evaluating, strategizing, even as he steeled himself for the closer contact.&nbsp; And 'steel', she thought, was the operative word.&nbsp; She hadn't missed the tell-tale lift of his hips, the momentary press of that intriguingly forged weapon, heated from the furnace against the bare skin beneath her skirt.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>A girl of twenty summers could not possibly miss how much his body longed for hers, given even the barest contact with fine linen stretched taut by his position and the generosity of his endowment.&nbsp; To a succubus, she would be more inclined not to notice a slap across the face.&nbsp; &nbsp;He did not, perhaps could not, truly countenance how intoxicating the combination of raw physical need and iron control could be ... but it suited her purposes and her hungers perfectly. <br><br><em>"My turn,"</em> she agreed wickedly, leaning back just a bit and letting her head drop as her eyes traveled down the corded, occasionally scarred, muscle of his chest to where the front panel of her soft leather skirt folded over them both, modestly hiding the swell of his cock from her vision while bringing it tantalizingly closer to where it would be sheathed when one, or both, could endure the anticipation no longer.&nbsp; Her eyes lingered there, her breathing just slightly unsteady as she mulled his implied promise of efficient and brutal engagement, calculating the movements that would be necessary to bare him and bowl him to the ground to deliver the first thrust.<br><br>Despite the breeze off the ocean, they were close enough that Jazelle could scent the arousal on the air, both his and hers as her mind played out how it would be. She shuddered softly in anticipation, then let her eyes raise back to his.&nbsp; A succubus was perfection to the man, and occasionally woman, who desired her -- how could she be not, when the form she wore was shaped by that desire?&nbsp; Yet it was the spirit of the man who intrigued her most, even as she longed to encompass and devour his lust.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did not veil the desire, did not soften it, but let him see it full in her gaze as she held herself still save for the insistent rise and fall of her chest.<br><br><em>"So it is."</em><br><br>Jazelle leaned forward, tilting her head so that the heat from her breath passing through parted lips washed over the pulse at the base of the General's throat, where the collar fastened.&nbsp; She paused there for a moment, as if considering, before her tongue, slightly enlongated and rosy in color, flicked from between those lips to taste the heat and faint salt of his skin there, combined with the earthy taste of leather and metal from that which he wore.<br><br><em>"Tell me, my general ..."&nbsp; </em>Her tongue flicked again, this time above the collar. <em> "If you had the power to undo time ..."&nbsp; </em><br><br>Each pause was punctuated with a delicate flick of that tongue as she left the collar and flicked her way up to the wayward curls near his ear and nuzzled them out of the way so that her teeth could just barely graze a lobe as she finished her question there.<br><br><em>"Would you ... undo ... the giving ... of the gift ... from your king?"</em><br><br>It was an intentionally loaded question, one that could be interpreted in a variety of ways, with a bevy of consequences unsaid if another course of action had sent him safely, untouched, to his cold, unwelcoming bed.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-04-2014, 08:12:26</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Iron control... it was curious that very same iron control the general exhibited blended with his raw physical need formed a bond that the creature before him found intoxicating, because for -him-, it was agonizing. Well, not so much -yet-, of course: the night was still young (as far as he was aware). 'Control' and 'need' were, to him, usually very much on opposite ends of the spectrum. One usually won out in the end. In the 'battlefield' known as the bedroom, 'need' won out more often than not, while on the 'battlefields' where he shed blood and wiped out armies, 'control' was usually the key to victory and survival.<br><br>Looking at this current situation as though it -were- a battlefield, Duncan easily reminded himself what was at stake. To lose 'control' here would put him among the same ranks of a boy barely sixteen winters old, eager to touch and explore and feel pleasure. A younger Duncan would have done that, would have already attempted to have this woman - creature or not - on her back. But with age comes wisdom, usually, and in Duncan's case that had been a very true tale. Rushing in would likely find him suffering in -some- way, his instincts told him. Whether the creature before him would lash out at him for being so uncouth, or perhaps her only sign of displeasure might be a sigh of disappointment... whatever her reaction -might- be, something told him that her reaction was the most important part of this 'game'. <br><br>He realized that she made the rules, and he also realized that not -all- of the rules might be known quite yet. <br><br>The fact that she was the most alluring woman he had ever met, he chalked up to her arcane powers. She could appear as anything - and anyone - that she desired. She could appear as beautiful or as haggard, as perfect or as imperfect as the situation called for. Right now, she just so happened to appear as a woman he would very much like to explore every inch of, with eyes, hair, and skin the likes of which he had never found, but had often fantasized about. Again he pondered if she had deeper mind-reading capabilities than he gave her credit for - yet he knew if that was true, than anything and everything he did would ultimately be pointless, as she would know of his thoughts and plans ahead of time.<br><br>She claimed it was her turn, then she leaned back slightly and looked down his body. He did, as well, wondering if she had seen something he was not aware of, or perhaps her eyes had caught sight of something that displeased her. He sported several scars - new ones added every season, it seemed like. Part of him lamented this fact: had she met him when he was much younger, his skin was smooth and unmarred at one time, and he thought she would have liked him better then. Now, though he was not unhealthy and his body was still as well muscled as it had been a decade ago, the scars were like a map of his victories and defeats, his triumphs and tragedies. Some women thought them amusing and possessing character, while other women thought they were hideous, the results of opened flesh and blood-pumping wounds.<br><br>She shuddered, and he had no idea of knowing if it was in repulsion to his scars that she now could see up close, if it was in response to the cool breeze that came into the room through the windows, or if it was simply a result of her own attempt to control her own -need-. Or, perhaps it was a mix of those things and more. Her eye rose back upward to meet his, and his met hers without fear. Then slowly, her head tilted and he leaned forward. His own heartbeat picked up as her breath trickled along his skin, warm and tantalizing, promising him things that he wasn't even sure she planned on delivering. Perhaps this was where she grew bored of him and simply ripped his throat out with her fangs? Or perhaps it was something else entirely.<br><br>When she felt her tongue on his skin - his eyes immediately rolled back in his head, the lids closing over them. His adam's apple bobbed, -barely- able to stifle a moan from escaping his throat. How embarrassing would -that- have been? Her tongue dallied along his skin gently, and then connected with the collar... that damnable collar, which he had almost forgotten about. Was this move, then, a simple - and very erotic reminded of his predicament? Was this just a tease to remind him that he -was- collared, and according to her claim, was bound to her command?<br><br>The desire of course to respond was building - yet, he clearly recalled the rules of their game. He must wait his turn. <br><br>She spoke again, words interspersed with another gentle flick of her tongue, this time above the collar. He -almost- suggested that she simply remove it, then her tongue, lips and fingers would find no more impediment there. But he knew better than to suggest such a thing. Then her mouth was moving, all warm, moist, and alluring as every touch sent tingles racing down that side of his body. His eyes still closed, she whispered her question to him.<br><br>Duncan's eyes opened slightly, some part of his mind forcing him to interpret the words for what they were, and formulate some sort of response. He did remain quiet for a moment, simply -enjoying- her touch, and the throb in his pants only intensified, as if silently urging him to do what he knew needed doing. He swallowed once, his mind mulling over the possible answers: the wrong one, the right one, the one he should give, the one he wanted to give... and once again, after a very quick mental debate, he felt that being honest still at this juncture did not yet pose a threat to him.<br><br>"No," he finally whispered, with her head so close to his, her ear not far from his mouth, he need not speak too loudly. "I would not undo the giving even if I could," he admitted. Saying those words felt at once liberating and imprisoning at once. It was a difficult thing to contemplate, feeling the relief of being able to confess such a thing, while at the same time it felt almost... demeaning?... to admit that he would leave things the way they were, and the reason for that was quite obvious to both of them, likely: he was enjoying it.<br><br>"At least so far," he added softly. He was quite aware that this gentle, sensual exercise could turn brutal, bloody, and even lethal in seconds. He had no doubt about that, even though he was no expert in matters of demonology. And even if his body was not in any danger, he fully believed that his immortal soul was. "You've been and intriguing host, an intelligent conversationalist, and of course... you bring sweet pleasure to the eye," he went on. "You lured me in, using my own curiosity against me, something no foe on the battlefield has ever been able to do, and here we are."<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-04-2014, 18:30:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>There was nothing of boredom in the succubus' mind or body as she sat astraddle the general's lap.&nbsp; &nbsp;Moments such as these were when she felt the most alive, the most free ... even when her own desires licked at her skin with tongues of flame, setting every nerve alight to smolder delightfully.&nbsp; Men who provided a challenge were a treasure that was worth more than gold or jewels ... probably because she could usually have the latter for the asking.<br><br>As much as her general sought to control his reactions, his body revealed it in ways that were even more satisfying than a simple admission.&nbsp; So close, so in tune, with the body beneath hers was she that she could feel the involuntary movement of his throat muscles as her tongue delicately caressed and tasted his skin, the quiver of his cheeks as his eyes closed and rolled, the catch in his breath as his body's reaction sought expression vocally.<br><br>If, she thought, with a gleam in her eyes that she could not see as she nuzzled in close to his ear, caressing him minutely with soft tickles of her hair, her breath, faint brushes of her lips and the warmth of her cheek ... and, of course, the intimacies of her tongue in a touch that belonged only to a lover.&nbsp; She did not hurry his answer, despite the seconds that slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass. <br><br>Time was not her enemy, but rather her friend.&nbsp; &nbsp;How much was accomplished mattered little, really ... what mattered was how surely and how deeply she could touch him.&nbsp; One coupling that would haunt his thoughts like a distant melody would please her far more than a series of frenzied ruttings that were remembered no more truly than fist-gripped fantasies bragged about in taverns until they attained some semblance of reality.<br><br><em><strong>"Mmmmm".&nbsp; </strong></em>The sound signified both pleasure and satisfaction as he admitted to what she knew already.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did not even mind his qualifications of the answer - some were sweet, even as he sought to put up fences ... fences with gates, she was pleased to note ... between them.<br><br>Jazelle rewarded that sweetness with a final caress of her tongue, the flat of it full against the prickling skin of his throat to the softness behind his ear.&nbsp; She finished it with a capture of his earlobe between white, pearly teeth.&nbsp; She tugged there, gently, then released the grip only to suckle the tender softness into her mouth, warming the resulting moistness with a slow exhalation of breath before she straightened and leaned back enough that she could see his face as she spoke.<br><br><em>"And here we are."&nbsp; </em>She echoed his conclusion, eyes half lidded with the knowledge of his desire for her, and hers for him, lips parted as if to remind them both of the pleasures that could, would, so easily and surely be delivered.<br><br><em>"I have heard it said that a man is most truly measured not by the estimation of his friends, but by that of his foes."</em><br><br>She offered nothing more just then, but fell quiet, as she devoured him with her gaze, letting herself imagine the deceptive softness of his lips traveling over her skin and anticipating how it would feel ... and letting him read what he could of her desire in her eyes and her body's own reactions.<br><br><em>"Your move ... my sweet."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-04-2014, 03:25:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>As Jazelle leaned in closer, he noted the faint brush of her hair against his skin, and her scent became more and more poignant as he used every sense he could to register her proximity to his body. He was sure if he closed his eyes, he could see the two of them relaxing along the bank of a river, or perhaps a grassy knoll near a beach along the coast. He could feel a breeze, of course, but it wouldn't cool him - no, it would merely stoke the flames of desire that he forcibly kept at bay for the time being. He knew everything would be present for a wonderful afternoon of relaxation and bliss... at least, physically so.<br><br>The lack of a mental aspect to all of this was not lost upon him. This woman did not 'love' him, and in fact being a mere mortal, he assumed she likely cared nothing at all for him, aside from what a child might care for a toy or play-thing that they will soon outgrow, or simply grow bored of. Affection, at least that which went -beyond- the skin, was something completely lost on him now, and no matter how close they were, how heated things might become, he used that as his lifeline to remind himself where he was, and whom he was with.<br><br>Her tongue flattened against his skin, sliding effortlessly upward to his earlobe. Icy nails raced up and down his flank, some of those reaching toward his core, urging his manhood to strengthen even more than it already was. He was sure he could use it as a weapon now, if the opportunity presented itself, or as a tool to tear apart iron. Such was the effect she had upon him.<br><br>Jazelle's teeth caught his earlobe, and he bit his lower lip to stifle another moan. She might suspect that he was enjoying this, but he resisted the urge to confirm it completely by moaning and gasping like some young woman touched for the first time. If she truly wanted to make him squirm, she'd have to try a lot harder than what she had done so far, he believed.<br><br>To her statement about how a man was measured, Duncan smirked lightly. "My foes would likely not have many fair things to say about me," he said. "Fallen enemies rarely do. Honesty is often outweighed by pride, and a fallen foe is often resentful of the one, or ones, that brought them low." Duncan could only imagine hatred and malice laced words coming from his foes about him, and none of it would be flattering, he would guess, regardless of the manner he had used to defeat them. Whether it was subterfuge, cunning, or simple weight of strength or numbers, Duncan had yet to meet his true match, and in that there was some small amount of pride. But Duncan was also experienced enough to know that all it took was one battle to be brought down to earth, and very rarely did he allow his pride to get the best of him anymore.<br><br>She remained where she was, straddling him, leaning back just far enough to be able to look at him. This surprised him, for he assumed she would move away. So when she indicated it was his turn, her hands still resting on his shoulders. He did not hesitate, then, as his hands moved, each lowering slowly to settle upon her knees. Then, with equal slowness, the palms of his hands lying flat against her skin - his hands moved upward, fingers spread as if he were going to grip her thighs - only, his hands slid beneath the leather skirt, beneath the lacy garment beneath it, and continued to move upward. As they did so, the leather bunched about his wrists, gently gathered as his hands continued their slow and smooth motion. One his hands felt that they had reached about mid-thigh, they stopped - and gently he applied pressure, fingertips clenching ever so lightly as if to grip her thighs possessively, feeling how firm and toned they were. His thumbs, the digits nearest to her inner-thighs, began to circle slowly, caressing small circles against her skin where he hoped her flesh might be more sensitive to his touch.<br><br>"Thinking back over the countless lovers you have had," he whispered, looking her directly in the eye. "Think of the greatest, or most memorable one... the one that you would most want to be with again. And then tell me... what set him - or her - above the rest?" he asked.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-04-2014, 22:22:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>This was, Jazelle thought, shaping up to be a lovely evening.&nbsp; &nbsp;It had been long since any man had put up such a strong and subtle defense to her focused effort, and few men really required such an effort.&nbsp; It would make it all the sweeter when she had him, if he put at least somewhat equal effort into the endeavor.&nbsp; Muscles clenched in eager anticipation, and her eyes gleamed as his hands slid beneath her skirt, hot on the sensitive skin.<br><br><em>"I see that you are no bumbling enthusiast whose boasts outnumber his exploits," </em>she murmured appreciatively, shifting softly as his thumbs coaxed and teased beneath the heated tent of her leather skirt.&nbsp; Unlike the general, she had no reason to conceal the depth of her reaction at the soft, sensual caress, and she breathed a long, soft purr of enjoyment, "mmmmmmmmmm" as her eyes closed for a moment while she considered his question.<br><br>In truth, it did not need a great amount of thought.&nbsp; She had had many lovers, and she remembered them all with a preternatural clarity that many women would have envied with but a scant fraction of her conquests.&nbsp; By far the majority of them had little to bring their memory to the forefront, however, and one would have done as well as another when she had been bound by her summoner, or consumed by her own voracious hungers.<br><br>But to reveal what had set him apart ... that would be ... knowledge of herself that she had granted few others.&nbsp; <br><br>The vines of the general's mind held thorns, delicate, curved and barbed -- the sort that did not keep intruders at bay but rather welcomed them, only to dig in at the first withdrawal.<br><br>The succubus smiled, her lips parting slightly to accommodate the quickened tempo of her breathing as she leaned ever so slightly into the sweet caress of his hands, bending her body to deliver her answer in a husky whisper designed to bring him closer the better to hear.&nbsp; Though she did not touch him, per the rules of their little game, the air moved between them, and the wash of her breath along his skin, the tickle of a few tendrils of hair, the movements of her lips ... all could not help but be felt as the proximity of their bodies heightened and inflamed their senses.<br><br><em>"There was a time, my sweet, when the only true pleasure I comprehended was the fire that burned ever hotter between my legs at the thrust of a rigid cock, and that which I received when a man ... or woman ... desired me so completely as to give over their soul for one more night, one more hour, one more minute, between my thighs."</em><br><br>She breathed softly against his skin, still, for a moment longer before straightening and sitting back, her weight pressing more fully upon his where she straddled him.&nbsp; Her face was somber now, even serious, though the dilation of her pupils and the lazy rise and fall of her eyelids as she blinked showed no lessening of her arousal, but rather the reverse.<br><br><em>"What set him apart ... is that he taught me that true desire, true pleasure, does not have its beginning here ..."</em><br><br>Jazelle reached out with an outstretched fingertip, and brushed the top of the swell in his breeches, feather light.<br><br><em>"but here ..."</em><br><br>Her hand rose, and delivered another feather-light stroke with that same fingertip, at the general's temple.<br><br><em>"And the difference, my sweet, is the difference between water drunk from a ditch under the sun's blazing rays, and water that bubbles up from a deep, cool limitless spring ... when one is so parched with thirst that thought of anything other than quenching it consumes one's being."</em><br><br>And with that question, though it had not perhaps been his intent, the general set himself apart from the rest as well, a feat that his king ... amusing boy that he was ... had not accomplished.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>03-05-2014, 12:16:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan couldn't help but realize, for the tenth time, how lucky he was that he hadn't met this creature during his earlier years. He'd likely have already been on his hands and knees at her feet, begging to be hers if she would only spread her thighs for him. Then, if she capitulated for him, he'd have plunged into her with the ferocity of a man possessed, and spilled himself within a handful of thrusts. Duncan clearly remembered that 'younger self', and was very grateful that she had never met him - as far as he knew.<br><br>Instead, she was with the older, more experienced, and -far- more patient General. He had learned patience the hard way, several times in bloody fashion. Sending men under his command to their deaths because of his simple lack of patience was how he came to grasp the concept, and in turn that changed various other parts of his life, as well. His sex-life improved dramatically, as well, and he was able to deal with the political nonsense with more aplomb, too. <br><br>Now, in front of this creature, his patience was paying huge dividends. He was able to resist his urges, at least so far. He had no doubt that she likely had access to some sort of mystical power to compel him to do things if she so desired. With a word and a wave of her hand, a spell or incantation might force him to come onto her, or perhaps the collar at his throat might be the instrument for her to make him more... compliant. But, if she did stoop to using such powers - or devices - then he would feel a moral victory in that. He would not give-in unless he truly wanted to. That was the power of his conviction.<br><br>But was it eternal? Was it infallible? No. And he also realized it wasn't limitless. At some point, this physical - and mental - teasing would send him over the edge one way or the other, rather it was buried inside her to the hilt, or fisting himself to completion in his own chambers. <br><br>"Boasting is for the young, or the insecure," he replied to her statement about his lack of it. That, too, had been a flaw of his in his younger days. Now, he let his actions - and his victories - speak for themselves. It would save a lot more face later if he ever failed. His thumbs worked along the smooth contours of her inner-thighs, sliding down slowly - teasingly - as if to approach her crotch but never quite reaching it. <br><br>She purred softly after he asked his question, and he was fairly certain he was making her consider her answer. Had she simply had so -many- lovers that thinking of the 'best' was that difficult, or that much of an exercise of her memory? Or was she contemplating not answering him at all?<br><br>Then she suddenly smiled as her body leaned toward him. She spoke, her voice husky in his ear. He could feel her warm breath, a tickle of warmth that send a faint shiver down his spine. Her words described -her- earlier years, from the sound of it - back to a time where the basic physical instinct was all that mattered to her. Another warm breath of her skin, and then she was leaning back once more, up into her normal sitting position still straddling his thighs. Then she answered him, describing to him what had set this other mystery-man apart from all the others.<br><br>Her fingertip lightly brushed the top of the bulge in his breeches, causing his hips to involuntarily rise upward an inch or so, then her finger moved up to his temple. This indicated that true arousal began in the mind, not in the genitals, or at least that's how he had perceived her words.<br><br>Duncan nodded in agreement and understanding. Thinking back to his own plethora of lovers, the quality of his escapades improved drastically when he began to think - and act - based on his brain rather than the urges and demands of his cock. In the end, he -still- always go what he wanted, but the journey to that point had turned from a one or two minute frenzied affair of lust and disappointment, into a virtual display of artistic movement, a 'naked dance' of human bodies instead. That first night when he had completely broken his first woman with climax after climax was the first night he realized he had finally grown-up for real and had become a real man.<br><br>"I couldn't agree more," he said, offering her a warm, agreeable smile. "The mind is where much of the planning takes place, the fantasizing, and of course, the anticipation," he said - his thumbs crept along her inner thigh another inch towards her sex... the bulges of his hands beneath her leather skirt seemed to indicate that his thumbs were likely only an inch or two from from mound... and that is where they stopped. His palms felt the smooth, firm skin of her thighs, and the desire to lick and kiss her skin there was building rapidly. "The mind is where the discipline and will comes from, to resist the temptations we are offered... to delay enjoying them for a time... and then when one finally allows for such a thing, the mind is what keeps a person from becoming completely -lost- in sensation..."<br><br>Duncan had heard of men and women both who had become lost in the sensation of carnal delights. Some of them became nymphomaniacs, fucking anyone, anywhere. Others became rapists and perverts, publicly pleasuring themselves or forcing themselves on another until taken into custody. Some simply became addicted to the feeling, becoming little more than slaves to the person who could grant them such pleasures. Duncan himself had never been in such a position before.<br><br>"Lastly... the mind is where our memories of such escapades are stored, so that we might revisit them in the future... Some of us are not as fortunate as you," he teased, "We don't have the luxury of a lover anytime we wish, and sometimes those memories are what warms us during a long, cold night alone. I am sure that you've delivered countless aching memories to the men you've had." <br><br>He smiled faintly at her - and after a -long- moment of silence whereby his hands enjoyed touching her, they finally began to slide away, back towards the opening of her skirt so that they could be retracted. For having such large, rough hands, he moved them smoothly enough across her skin - but slowly, obviously reluctantly, until his hands were free of her skirt - and then gently pulled away from her - per the rules of their game. It was her turn, after all.<br><br>"I do believe it is back to you, lady Jazelle," he said, his voice smooth and just above a whisper, his dark eyes focused upward at an angle to focus on hers, as well.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>08-05-2014, 23:05:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>The absence of his hands upon her skin was a sensation of its own.&nbsp; Even after the drag of their withdrawal was but a pleasant warmth and her skirts had re-settled more fully over her legs in some semblance of modesty, Jazelle could conjure their memory with a crystal clear clarity that would no doubt enhance her fantasies, her dreams, for many days to come.&nbsp; By then, she hoped that there would be a great deal more meat upon the bone, but even so it did not lessen the sensual impact of each turn of the game.<br><br>"<em>You say 'completely lost in sensation' like it is something to be avoided at all cost, my general.&nbsp; While I agree that there is something inherently distasteful in those who gorge themselves upon their pleasures so greedily that it is no longer pleasure but painful compulsion ..."</em>&nbsp; The succubus' eyebrows rose, the left one a bit higher than the right, as she shrugged her shoulders.&nbsp; The movement, exaggerated, caused her breasts to sway.&nbsp; There was no real subtlety in the gesture, but there was amusement.&nbsp; &nbsp;Was the general aware of the subtle games women played for a myriad of reasons, and was he of a kind who would appreciate the tactics laid bare of pretense?&nbsp; And if he did, what would he make of a succubus, a creature of man's deepest hidden desires and darkest nightmares, who employed them so nakedly, without the mask of deniability and outside the culture of polite expectation? <br><br>There were so many levels to this lovely game, and her lovely ... guest ... had already provided her with more enjoyment than she'd had in more nights than she cared to count, all with so few touches as to barely be worth mention in a priests' confessional.&nbsp; Barring, of course, that all was mentioned was the touch and not the smoldering heat that was growing just beneath the surface.<br><br><em>"If you cannot allow yourself the occasional moment to be lost in sensation, which is very different from being its slave, then I would have to venture the possibility that you have yet to fully live, for all your battlefield or boudoir victories."</em><br><br>Leaning back, the succubus regarded him lazily, contemplating the strategy of her next move.&nbsp; It wasn't really necessary, but she occasionally enjoyed a good game of chess or similar distraction ... usually when, like this, it was but one of the games being played.&nbsp; <br><br>One of the most beneficial advantages about playing a game where noone had bothered sitting down and formalizing the rules was the fun of improvisation.&nbsp; &nbsp;The eye contact between them was one of those unwritten rules, but it was only a game of one upsmanship by conventional standards.&nbsp; &nbsp;This was their game, despite the presence of the collar, though it served a purpose even with its magic all but untapped.<br><br><em>"You have the most marvelous eyes, my general, deep and dark as night's heart.&nbsp; It is no wonder that those who have reason to fear your displeasure tremble beneath your gaze ... and likely even those who have no reason to think your ire will fall upon them do not look into those eyes long, I would speculate.&nbsp; &nbsp;The night that seems cold and endless to some is warm, inviting, and filled with promise to others.&nbsp; I wonder why that is."</em><br><br>Slowly, Jazelle leaned forward again, just as she had done when she whispered against his ear.&nbsp; This time, though, she did not ask her question or speculate further on the mysteries of life and passion.&nbsp; Her head moved, the tip of her nose a hair's breadth from his skin, in what would have been a nuzzle if she had allowed the contact.&nbsp; All that touched his skin was the warm brush of her breath, the tickle of a few errant hairs, and the movement of the air stirred by her passing as she almost-nuzzled his ear, then his neck and finally his cheek.<br><br>She stopped when she faced him once more, her head angled, neck bent, eyes searching his from an angle with the heated air from her nostrils upon his cheek, his stirring a few soft tendrils of hair coaxed into casual disarray by the breeze.&nbsp; After a heartbeat, and another, and another, she leaned in just enough to close the infinitesimal gap and pressed her lips softly to his as she breathed in the sweet scent of his skin.<br><br>An almost chase kiss, on the surface, had not her breasts pressed up against his breeze-cooled skin, heated, firm, and yet promisingly pliant.&nbsp; <br><br>She did not linger long, but rose instead, effortlessly unfolding and transferring her weight from his knees to her calves as the skirt swing back into place with only a few glimpses of honeyed skin at eye level.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her lips, the lips that had seconds before rested against his with softness, formed into the ghost of a smile as she offered down her hand.<br><br><em>"I would ask that you indulge me in the asking of my next question ... sometimes it is not only what you ask, or how, but also ... where ..."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>12-05-2014, 15:58:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle's words about being lost in sensation resonated in his mind, and he nodded, agreeing with her latest assessment for the most part. "In theory, I agree wholeheartedly," he said, "But there is usually a proper time for all things, including losing oneself," he said. "Sadly, most of humanity is unable to... control such urges. Men who allow themselves to let the sensation rule them are rapists, murderers, often targeting the young and helpless. While similar women scheme and plot, becoming addicted to any sort of rise to power that they can muster. It is true evidence of the lack of human will - to give into such temptations is a common failing of humanity."<br><br>"But... there are proper times where enjoying it, allowing oneself to become lost in it, is definitely called for," he added, smiling slightly. He could feel his desire for her slowly rising, despite his best efforts to keep himself 'uninterested'. As long as the topic even hinted at activities of a sensual nature, his imagination was running wild with her, already having her in so many different, delicious ways, that the rest of his body was slowly joining in with his imagination, seeking to leave his good sensibilities alone and abandoned.<br><br>She leaned back, then, as if to offer him an even better view of her body. He was thankful that she was clothed, so that he had success now at keeping his eyes focused on hers. In his mind, she was appraising him again, as if looking for some visible weakness in his defenses. While for him, he was focused on her eyes with the sole reason of keeping them from roaming her body and slowing his plummet downward.<br><br>Her compliment about his eyes made him smile, then, a sudden change in tactics apparently. "I have often wished that my eyes were of a different color. Blue or green, specifically. Mainly to attract the fairer sex," he said with a slight chuckle. "But dark eyes are useful in various situations, as you alluded to. Bright eyes might convey happiness or softness. Dark eyes convey strength and, when necessary, anger, which comes in handy in certain situations," he nodded slowly. "But you are right... there are times when dark eyes can still be inviting, offering a certain warmth and comfort of their own..."<br><br><em>~Like right now...~</em> he thought, a random thought, quickly shoved away as if it were an escapee from the prison of his own mind recaptured and dragged back to its cell. And he dared not tell her what her eyes were doing to him, eyes that he knew would haunt his dreams for many, many nights to come - if he managed to escape this place in the end.<br><br>Then, she leaned forward toward him, but he held his ground. Her move didn't appear dangerous, and he knew in his heart that shying away from her would only make him appear weak and scared. He was wary, true, and obviously quite cautious, but he had no reason to believe that she was prepared to harm him yet - it simply would have been too random at that moment. <br><br>Besides, a darker part of him was hoping she would do much more than lean toward him. That darker, needful part of him that she had recently alluded to in some round-about way, knowingly or not. By the gods, if she was going to torture his soul, he wanted to at least make it worth his while! <br><br>Again, he mentally scolded himself, summoning images of past trysts gone terribly wrong, or battlefield failures revisited in his mind. A physically painless way of punishing himself, it was his last line of defense in order to keep his mind whole and entirely focused, especially as her lips came within a hair's breath of touching his. He could feel her warm breath on his skin - demons breathed? For some reason that surprised him, almost causing him to laugh for some reason. She held her position, her head slightly to the side, her eyes angled to watch him - as if waiting for him to close the distance, to -give in- to her and show her that he had lost control.<br><br>He didn't. He remained still, neither moving away from her, nor closing that small space to press his lips against hers, hopefully demonstrating that he was still in control, neither frightened, nor overcome with desire... quite yet.<br><br>Then, as if she had simply grown tired of waiting, she leaned forward that last fraction and brushed her lips directly against his.<br><br>Duncan waited for it, sure that he was about to lose his soul, or lose his control, or possibly even lose his life. These were rumors and stories, of course, written in texts about the outcome of kissing a succubus on the lips. The kiss was chaste, but his attention was drawn immediately to the gentle press of her breasts against his chest, the thin layer of cloth she wore the only barrier between her flesh coming into contact with his. He realized too late he was holding his breath as he felt the chaste kiss upon his lips, trying his best to focus on it, and just like that - thankfully - it was over as she backed away slowly, and rose to her feet. She wore a faint smile now, as if he had failed some sort of test he didn't realize he was undertaking. Or was it simply a smile of anticipation? In a similar situation back in his world, with a woman he had wished to seduce, he'd be smiling exactly that way right now himself, would he not?<br><br>Was it the smile of a hunter trapping its prey? <br><br>She offered him her hand, indicating that for her next question, they needed to be someplace else for the asking. He immediately nodded. Getting up and walking or moving someplace else might allow him a chance to refocus, so without hesitation he gently took her hand, and slowly rose to his feet. He felt her grip, imagining that it could be far, far stronger if she wished it, but he did not pull on her, nor did he use his full-weight to force her to truly help him to his feet. He rose mostly on his own, but a steadying hand was not unwanted.<br><br>Nor did he want to lose contact with her skin again. Even as he stood now, he did not immediately drop her hand from his gentle grasp. Instead, he held it, so much smaller compared to his own, but did not grip it too tightly. If she pulled it away, she would be able to do so with no resistance whatsoever. Besides, if she wished to guide him someplace, she could easily pull him along if she wished.<br><br>"Of course," he said to her, and there was certainly truth to her words that he recognized himself. "Lead the way, lady Jazelle."<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-05-2014, 21:28:31</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div>Men such as the general were rarely sympathetic to the woes that beset humanity, not truly.&nbsp; They could not afford the heart of a healer, to worry at cause.&nbsp; They were the cauterizing blade, accepting loss as a necessary part of existence, of healing.&nbsp; She could have played devil's advocate - it was a position that she sometimes took when the conversation was interesting enough, but here there seemed little cause despite Duncan's obvious intelligence.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was, she thought, already aware on some level the limitations of his outlook and did not claim that it held the answer to every question.&nbsp; That was more than enough.<br><br>He clung to his suspicion like a drowning sailor to a rope, never quite losing sight of how she was sawing away at the strands, bit by bit.&nbsp; She could have laughed, and no doubt would later.&nbsp; She had been very good at twisting a man in knots with his own words, the contradictions and vagaries in his own beliefs, even before she had understood the complex levels of such things.&nbsp; Yet now, she did not wish to strangle him, either literally or figuratively, with a noose of his own making ... she only needed to open his mind to the possibilities.<br><br>Though she had been somewhat skeptical at first, that such a thing was possible with one so disposed to war ... yet for all her vanity, she was well aware of her own limitations.&nbsp; Some facets of human behavior simply did not usually interest her enough to dissect it down to the inner workings ... and even vanity could not compel her to do so rather than admitting that there were heads far wiser than hers when it came to such matters.<br>Cooperation ... facilitation ... even compromise ... she had learned the value of such things in more than name, and in the doing had kept her freedom.&nbsp; It was a lesson that she would not forget, and in some strange way it pleased her to share something of that lesson with another, particularly a man as attractive in body and mind, and perhaps soul as well, as the general.&nbsp; And even if the lesson did not stick, she would enjoy it for what it would be.<br><br>Since he did not reclaim his hand, she did not relinquish it.&nbsp; For all his doubts, he wanted her touch, all the more for the lessening certainty that she would rip out his throat or his soul at any moment.&nbsp; &nbsp;Oh, he still thought that she must, but he was no longer quite as certain of it, and Jazelle didn't mind taking baby steps.&nbsp; Patience was something that she had learned ... though admittedly with a great deal of difficulty.<br><br>The fine, shining links of the chain rattled as they moved, but the magic offered no resistance, only a reminder and consolation that he was not here by choice, though if he were exacting in his honesty he would eventually begin to question why the thought of wearing a collar and chain had drawn him in to the magic.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet that was not something she planned to distract him with - there was time enough for that later, when the dawn had come and carried him back to his own world with body and soul unharmed, if not completely unaltered.&nbsp; The goblets, half full, remained on the floor, and the chain simply passed through them as if they, or it, were but an illusion, though the succubus paid the magic no mind.&nbsp; She was far more interested in the movement of muscle beneath dark skin, and the snug fit of the general's breeches that accentuated both a nice curve of ass and the evidence that for all his caution, desire was growing stronger still.<br><br>​The succubus did not even attempt to hide the pleasure her eyes took in his movements, but instead gave him a sidelong, devilish smile&nbsp; when her eyes returned to his face, raising her eyebrows and shrugging her shoulders to indicate an unwillingness to let such enjoyment be curtailed by a discomfort that his society demanded.&nbsp; &nbsp; They did not go far, only across the chamber to the window, where he could see the expanse of ocean, waves glittering with moonlight and starlight as the wind stirred the surface and the pull of current and tide drew it around and over the jutting rocks of the coast, though it was far too dark to see them with normal human sight.&nbsp; He could infer their presence with his ears, the soft crash of the waves distant, a natural music that echoed, to her ears, much like his heartbeat and the rush of blood through his veins.<br><br>Against the blackness of the night sea, the sky revealed its colors.&nbsp; At the horizon line, there were rich tones of red and blue mixing to purple, and the silhouette of clouds flowed with faint hues of grey and silver.&nbsp; Stars peeked out like diamond baubles in a woman's dark hair, and glittered like a scattering of careless stones across the table of some fat merchant above, their brilliance reflected and magnified here and there in the waters below.&nbsp; Jazelle moved to the side, her fingers taking the opportunity of distraction to entwine with his as she drew him central to the large window, and moved in behind and to the side until her hip pressed warmly against the pants-clad muscle that she had admired on the short walk.&nbsp; The window's stone base offered some measure of safety, barring intent, against the drop below, but even so Jazelle's free arm snaked reassuringly around his side until her ​fingers splayed across the rippling ridges of his stomach, though the touch was far too familiar to be simple reassurance.<br><br>​The question she had first meant to ask seemed cumbersome and unnecessary against such a backdrop, with the warmth of his flesh bare beneath her hand.&nbsp; She hesitated for a heartbeat, and then another, before revising it as her fingers slid downward over the bite of his waistband until her smallest finger brushed, just brushed, the first swell of fabric warmed by heat untouched by either fear or the cool breeze off the sea.<br><br><em>"Tell me, General, what bars, what obstacles, form the most intractable of prison cells?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>20-05-2014, 08:30:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>If Duncan were younger, he might be embarrassed by his obvious display of desire as he rose to his feet. The thick girth of his manhood was solid and straining against the front of his breeches, aching to escape the cloth confines that entrapped it. He had no way of hiding it, no way of politely 'excusing' himself to adjust, modify, or somehow send the beast away. It was what it was, and at his experienced age, he simply did his best to act like nothing was amiss. Besides, he was fairly certain she had seen -countless- erections in her lifetime, and his was most definitely not liable to make her blush, or surprise her in any way.<br><br>Their goblets remained where they left them, and he realized he wouldn't miss the drink. He felt fine, sated, and content. The chain passed -through- the goblets, surely by some expenditure of the arcane. Or was the chain simply an illusion? Was it there as some sort of test, and nothing more? Right now, though, it was an unnecessary feature to bind them together. He was quite amenable to being in her company, and she -seemed- to share a similar feeling toward him. With that in mind, restraints or coils were unnecessary... which of course made him wonder what would eventually happen to cause it to -be- necessary...<br><br>If anything, he could imagine her pushing him to the point where he simply came -at- her, not -away- from her. In that case, a chain or link would prove countermand to any desire she might have to keep him at bay. But again, his imagination filled in the blanks: surely she had faced her fair share of lovers - or would-be lovers and suitors - who rushed at her, eager for the delights she might offer... he was fairly certain, then, that she had other skills or 'talents' she might use to keep men at bay, just as she had skills and talents to reel them in...<br><br>Duncan caught her devilish grin, and he was sure she was well aware of the desire simmering within him. If 'caution' and 'curious desire' were on opposite sides of the scale, he easily envisioned the 'curious desire' side slowly lowering, inch by inch, heavier and more persistent than his caution. His mind even made up excuses to explain it away... ~If she wanted you dead, she'd have done so by now,~ and <em>~If she meant you harm, she wouldn't be wasting time like this with idle chatter. Surely she only means well...~<br></em><br>Their trail took them across the chamber to a window, and no further. His eyes took in the sight, immediately his instincts trying to determine -where- he was. Immediately he reminded himself: he wasn't anywhere. Or, he was somewhere -else-. This place had clouds and a beautiful horizon, which for a moment made him catch his breath: it was beautiful, romantic even, if such a thing could be said. Stars shone above as if some wealthy King had flung a handful of diamonds across the heavens. Water could be seen reflecting the starlight below, and it could be heard as it crashed upon the unseen shore below. It was peaceful - serene - beautiful. There were no hints of war or conflict, no army camps or horns blaring. No banners or the smoke of destruction to be seen anywhere.<br><br>And he knew in his heart that mostly likely, it was all -fake-. <br><br>That self realization almost caused his heart to break. For a few long moments, he had allowed the illusion to be -real-, as if it had been lightly plucked from his own fantasies: a place for him to go away from his life, to begin anew, to begin a different life. A secret place, and a secret desire that he had shared with -no one-. And here, now - it was laying before him. How his heart suddenly yearned to race down to the shore! How his heart suddenly ached to take Jazelle along down to the beach with him, to find the warm waters that would surely welcome them, to hear her laugh as he splashed her, and then to hear her moans of pleasure as he took her on the beach, making love to her into the night with such passion that she forgot her own name...<br><br>He blinked when he felt a touch against his flank. His breath that he had been holding, slowly exhaled. He turned his head slightly - finding her fingers entwined with his, that simple gesture one that was so incredibly intimate to him. Did she -know- this? His hand gently tightened with hers in return, the warmth welcome - desired - necessary and wanted. Her other hand slithered around his lower back to grasp at the hard edge of his opposite hip. <br><br>Duncan had hoped that the cool ocean air might sooth the driving ache in his breeches, but instead - her touch only stoked the heat even more. <br><br><em>"Tell me, General, what bars, what obstacles, form the most intractable of prison cells?"</em> she asked, and his eyes focused on her, his thoughts also becoming collected once more. All other thoughts pushed aside so that he could focus on her voice, but her question was one that he had an answer for immediately.<br><br>"The bars and shackles of the <em>mind</em>," he answered softly. This was a lesson he had learned - the hard way - more than once. "A prison cell could be escaped. Shackles could be slipped. Rope bindings could be cut. Physical imprisonment was simply a physical obstacle to overcome: either the cell would hold a prisoner or it wouldn't, and if it did, it could still be changed by others, modified, damaged, rent asunder and exposed to escape," he said softly, and it took an enormous amount of will, now, to turn his gaze away from her, casting it back out to the colorful horizon before he continued to speak.<br><br>"But the prison of the mind is an altogether different story. Countless men become prisoners within their own minds, condemning themselves to failure time and time again. Escaping preconceived notions and beliefs, societal norms and long-ingrained lessons is far more difficult to do than breaking oneself out of a prison cell." This much Duncan knew all too well. But was that the answer she sought? He was not sure, but he -was- sure that she would tell him one way or the other. <br><br>He heard the call of the ocean again, the gentle waves below. Duncan simply hoped in that moment that he could avoid looking at Jazelle again, at least for a time, because if he did, he knew that he would have to kiss her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-05-2014, 18:22:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>While Duncan spoke, Jazelle listened carefully, but she did not let the opportunity to touch go to waste.&nbsp; The eyes were wonderful communicators, but were secondary to speech.&nbsp; The other myriad factors that relayed a hundred different clues about what men were thinking and feeling were often overlooked, and she made full use of those as well.<br><br>As the general had no doubt surmised, succubi were not locked into any one form.&nbsp; Unless taken by surprise - no small feat in itself - they usually appeared more or less as whatever sexual ideal percolated nearest the surface of a man's mind.&nbsp; &nbsp; It was not an exact art, as what they garnered without great expense of effort and concentration was more an impression than a canvas.&nbsp; That worked in their favor in some ways, as only the most desperate and weak minded of men would not be suspicious to find the object of their desire suddenly presented on a platter.<br><br>Jazelle, however, was no ordinary succubus.&nbsp; Few, to her knowledge, had ever slipped the chains of the abyss where they were brought into creation.&nbsp; Fewer still had adapted to the change in circumstance well enough to survive more than a few foolish, ultimately fatal, mistakes.&nbsp; &nbsp;She herself had encountered only one, and it had not been a meeting she was inclined to repeat.&nbsp; She had developed the innate magic to something that was under her control rather than a simple lure based on instinct.&nbsp; &nbsp;This form was closer to her true form than many others.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was taller than most human women, and there had seemed no need to lessen her presence, or enhance it.&nbsp; She stood slightly behind Duncan, her fingers sill entwined within his as he looked out over the oddly finite and yet endless expanse of darkened sea and sky while her other hand remained on his other hip, idly stroking the fabric in a way that was anything but idle.&nbsp; There was movement in their entwined fingers as well, never enough to lessen the contact, but a subtle reminder of the movement of body to body, skin upon skin, soft and wordless.<br><br>When he fell silent, she fell still for the space of a few heartbeats as the powerful wash of his desire slid through her like blade through a mist.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her eyes closed, and she savored it; the taste was all the sweeter for the simplicity of it, sweet wine with just the whisper of spice to excite the palate.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then, she stepped in to him, pressing softly against his back, the heat of her body through the leathers and fabric warming skin cooled by the breeze.&nbsp; Their entwined fingers shifted from hip to stomach, the curve of her arm both an assurance of safety and subtle claim as the splayed fingers of her other hand opened farther still and stilled.&nbsp; Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, the nuzzle of her nose almost playful, yet sensual as she breathed in the scent of him.<br><br><em>"The strongest chains, the cleverest locks, my sweet general, are not those that bind us at the behest of others.&nbsp; Those are the ones we fasten about ourselves ... and yet they are the most delicate of bonds, often impossible to see.&nbsp; Even the glimpse of them must be hidden away and denied, and few things are defended so passionately as the notion that we are not ... enslaved.&nbsp; Yet ... 'tis also true that not all chains are maliciously fixed."</em><br><br>Jazelle's head turned, slightly, her lips brushing across his shoulder in something that was not&nbsp; quite a kiss but yet held its promise.&nbsp; She shifted, just a bit, to make certain he did not get lost in the vista before him or the lull of sea and her words, not enough to forget the call of her body to his, his to hers.<br><br><em>"A mighty ship with no chain, no anchor, can be dashed upon the rocks or driven beneath the depths when the storm comes."</em><br><br>Her lips moved against his skin as she spoke, the sound muffled, and then did press into a kiss, punctuated with the gentle rake of her teeth.<br><br><em>"And now, my general, I propose that we change the game we play ... just a tiny variation.&nbsp; &nbsp;Questions would still be delivered with a touch, but a touch chosen by the one giving the answer.&nbsp; What say you?&nbsp; &nbsp;Does what you might learn outweigh the risk of such a small surrender of control?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>25-05-2014, 13:06:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Even the simple feel of their fingers intertwined was enough to unsettled him. Distract him. Stir his thoughts even as he tried to form firm and objective ideas. Her other hand he felt on his opposite hip, her arm extended across his lower back. Her touch was surprisingly warmer than he had anticipated - what *had* he anticipated in the touch of a demoness from hell? The icy touch of a polar wind? Or the flesh-melting burn of hell's hottest furnace? Whatever it was, it wasn't -this-. Her fingers and his seemed to mesh perfectly, as if made for one another... and he was sure that was just a figment of his imagination, or she had intentionally -made- it feel that way.<br><br>She moved behind him, pressing gently against him. Even clothed, he could feel the heat of her body, a warmth the likes of which might be offered to a man too long out in the cold. How could he resist it? It was planned, of course - staged for his pleasure. He wasn't a fool - every move, every look, even her very pose sitting or straddling across him was done with one purpose in mind: to break him, to cause him to throw himself at her feet, or to lose his grip on sanity and simply lunge at her with desire no longer containable. But he was a stubborn man in his own realm, and he felt little reason to be so willing to surrender to her in this one.<br><br>As her fingers and hands moved slowly, subtly, he felt her cheek against his shoulder... and he had to bite his tongue feeling her breath on his skin. She knew how to toy with men, that much was obvious. Beyond that, it was obvious she was a master at it, as well. Her nuzzle was playful, warm, and what some might even call -loving-, though he seriously doubted she knew what that word even meant.<br><br>She spoke, then, explaining her thoughts on the answer to her own question. The chains she spoke up were figures of speech, but internal - limitations placed on oneself. She was right, too - often people wouldn't even see them, blinded by their own expectations and beliefs. Her summation that most people refused to believe themselves enslaved was accurate in his mind, the idea that some chains were not maliciously fixed intrigued him. He had certainly enjoyed 'bondage', so he was aware that some chains, indeed, could be quite the opposite of what chains usually signified. Was that what Jazelle was referring to, he wondered? Or was she speaking in metaphors about something else entirely? He had a feeling that, before this visit was over, he would understand.<br><br>He lips dragged across his skin, he could tell, when she paused in her speech. He felt her shift, and resisted the urge to turn around. His back was to her completely, trusting and untrusting at the same time. He didn't believe, though, that she would intend him harm at this point - it simply wouldn't make any sense. Instead, after a brief pause, she spoke again of a ship without an anchor. Another accurate comparison, he thought...<br><br>And then she kissed his flesh - and he felt her teeth against his skin.<br><br>He couldn't stop it this time, the faint hiss of delight from that one, simple move. He closed his lips quickly the moment he first heard it, hoping she hadn't caught it. His eyes closed, as well, simply enjoying the touch. With that, he felt another layer of his mental defenses slowly shatter. One by one, she effortlessly plowed through his willpower as if it were made of paper walls. Less and less he was concerned with his own safety, and more and more he was more concerned with her touch, her nearness, her very presence... <br><br>Duncan blinked, though, when she spoke yet again, suggesting a change to the rules of their game. He thought for a few moments, as if weighing the possibilities and risks, and then slowly nodded.<br><br>"I don't see why not," he said smoothly. "Yes, I agree to this change... and a fitting idea it is, since it is my turn to ask you a question," he said smoothly, still with his back to her, his gaze still focused out to the night sky and seascape before them. "So... choose your touch, lady Jazelle, and tell me... would you be so kind as to show me your -true- form?" he asked, plain and simple, wondering if she would dare to agree to such a thing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-05-2014, 21:23:50</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div>​As a succubus, she was born ... if such were the correct word ... with an understanding of and affinity to certain things.&nbsp; There was no bursting from a mother's womb, no hatching from a shell ... she had opened her eyes and stepped forth into the flickering light that called to her, fully formed, as strong in her first step as in her last.&nbsp; From that first moment, all things sensual, all things sexual, all things pertaining to physical pleasure were like the tingling vibration carried through a spider's web to the waiting arachnid.&nbsp; ​Unlike the siren's song, there had never been anything that could deaden that perception, save the strongest of magicks.&nbsp; The pleasure that the general, her general, if only for the night, took in her touch, her kiss, and the soft rake of her teeth would have been impossible to hide even without the collar's magic.&nbsp; She knew, and silently basked in the knowledge as she waited for him to consider her proposal.<br><br><em>"Is that your question?"</em> Jazelle asked, her tone light and and somewhat amused.&nbsp; &nbsp;"<em>Do you ask if such kindness, if kindness it is, exists within me?&nbsp; &nbsp;Be careful when dealing with my once-kin, my sweet, for they are masters at twisting your words to suit their design and consider intent only when it benefits them to do so.&nbsp; But I am not what I once was ... words, as delightfully entangling and delicious as they are ... will not lie between us.&nbsp; &nbsp;Choose another question for our original barter, and I will answer this in appreciation for your curiosity.&nbsp; Yes, if you desire, I will show you my true form ... in exchange ... for the loan of your trousers until the dawn.&nbsp; &nbsp;Will you trade, my general, my vulnerability for yours?&nbsp; I will even go first, if it please you."</em><br><br>He did not trust her, she knew - and she would have thought less of him if he had.&nbsp; Trust was not a thing of moments, nor even of passion. <br><br>Truthfully, she would have have done as he had asked without the trade, but it seemed an opportune moment both to make him consider what constitutes vulnerability ... as well as get his tacit agreement that clothing would soon be distraction rather than armor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>05-06-2014, 09:04:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Her gentle yet pointed reminder to mind his words did not catch him unaware. He hadn't meant his phrase in the way she took it, of course, but the way she took it reminded him that his words could very well be twisted by others, especially someone like her, skilled in the art of subtle or not-so-subtle manipulation. He nodded his head once in appreciation for her talent to mince his words as if her own tongue was the sharpest sword. He had no doubt that if she were angered, her words would be harsh and perhaps every bit as ruinous as any blade he had ever wielded in his hands. Often, the tongue was a woman's deadliest weapon against a man, as he had learned first hand on various occasions.<br><br>"I believe that you have the capability of being kind... if it suits your whim at the moment," he said plainly. "Just as I have no doubt that you could be loving, tender, caring even, if it suited your mood. I do not know if such feelings come natural to you, though, or if you must work at them or even pretend to possess such emotion - I am no expert of the forces of darkness. But I think your 'kindness' only extends so far as long as you are getting what you desire." It was a casual observation, meant to explain that he was not truly asking if she could be 'kind'. She had already proven that she could be - so far. But he was curious if such emotions were part of her being - or if she was simply faking it all in order to achieve her goal. That goal, he believed, was to have him willingly lapping at her feet like a dog, like all the other men she had conquered through the ages.<br><br>He was surprised, though, when she agreed to answer his curiosity - in exchange for his pants. An exchange of vulnerability, she called it, though for some reason he wasn't buying into the fact that her true form would make her vulnerable at all. He wagered she would be formidable in whatever form she decided to take. And of course she had seen her fair share of men naked, far more than he could probably fathom. So between them - who would be seeing something unique, interesting... and never before seen? Which of them would be getting the better end of such a bargain, in the end?<br><br>Duncan's only concern was that, in his current 'state'... she might find him amusing, perhaps even mock him - and though he was not an enormously prideful man, he still held some of the stuff deep within his heart. Perhaps seeing her true form would 'help' him deal with his 'rigid' concern for embarrassment.<br><br>"Very well, then," he found himself saying after a small amount of time he used to ponder the situation. "Your true form... and then, my pants are yours," he said. She had offered to go first, and he accepted. It wasn't truly a matter of trust, but if she chose to take it that way, he was fine with it. He simply assumed that her true form would unsettle him enough that the steel in his pants would quickly turn to something quite a bit softer. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 01:24:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Do you base your beliefs, my general, upon the capabilities of your foes upon such evidence as you have of me, or of ... my kind?"&nbsp; </em>Jazelle's chuckle rang out in the tower, without malice.&nbsp; <em>"The tales I hear of you, of your soldiers, from those you have fought are far from flattering.&nbsp; You drown babies torn from their mothers' arms in buckets of blood, no doubt drained from their sliced throats, and other such improbable and unflattering tales that they take as truth.&nbsp; They know, you see, because they heard it from a man whose cousin bought wheat from their grandfather's neighbor's brother and such sources are to be trusted."<br></em><br><em>"Yet,"</em> she allowed, as her fingers slipped from his, and from his hips, <em>"you, perhaps, have more justification for your words.&nbsp; You are here, and not solely of your own will.&nbsp; You wear a chain that binds you, to a great extent, to my will, with only my word of your safety, of safe passage.&nbsp; I trust, my general, that when the morning comes you will not take the easiest route to whatever answer allows you the most untroubled of sleeps."<br></em><br>As she stepped away, she found those threads that shaped her form to his desires, and broke them, one by one, until all that was left was the minor alterations of her own design.&nbsp; These were more difficult, for over the years she had developed her own preferences, her own vision ... but these, too, she snapped with a surge of her will until she was ... unaltered.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div>The mirrors spoke of her success, and she turned her head to stare at her curiously.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were changes, but the wings were the same, the hourglass shape of her figure, fullness of breast and hip, the ripple of muscle beneath smooth skin.&nbsp; The biggest change was in the eyes.&nbsp; Soulless, she had heard them described, but whatever allowed the capability to commit acts without remorse or mercy did not ... from her experience ... offer any such telltale evidence.&nbsp; Her hands were slender, elegant, the well-manicured nails replaced by curved crescents, delicate yet strong, pointed, sharp.&nbsp; The feet were yet encased in boots, but she could feel the curl of similar embellishments upon agile toes pressing into the leather.&nbsp; Her tale, serpentine, with smooth, soft scales curled lazily around her waist, the almost heart-shaped black tip concealing the faint curve of a sharp barb, barely perceptible in her current state.<br><br>Her eyes closed, and she took a breath ... then stepped back, until the distance between them offered the illusion of safety.&nbsp; When she opened her eyes, her expression was as serene as it had been previously.&nbsp; Her clothes remained, for he had not bargained for them, and there was naught of illusion in their construction save for that borne in the tailor's skill.&nbsp; <em>"Very well, Duncan.&nbsp; I am as you would see me." </em><br><br>It was, she supposed, a gamble ... but how boring existence would be if there were no risk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-06-2014, 09:46:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan smirked when she asked him about the basis for his beliefs. He understood where she was taking the conversation, and she quite adeptly knew that his 'knowledge' of demons and their kind - <em>her kind</em> - was severely limited, likely gathered only from a few random warnings from priests and magi. Still, he was no fool, and he knew what she was up to. <br><br>"I have never done such a thing to a child, nevertheless an infant, of course," he said. "Yet I am sure if you asked around the kingdom from which I hail, you will likely hear some -good- things about me, as well. Fell words about me are likely spoken by my enemies - especially ones I have triumphed over - ones that are bitter over being beaten. My men seem to respect me, at least to my face, though my closest allies assure me that the army loves me more than the King himself. Yet, I would wager a handsome sum that if I were to ask ever living soul in the realm who has ever met a demon, I would bet that most, if not all, will have little good to say about them," he said. "The ones who would speak positively of them are likely in their thrall, or possibly even possessed. I have yet to read a story about a 'good' demon, or one who sought to do good for a mere mortal," he added, a slightly smile playing at the corner of his mouth.<br><br>"Though of course I admit my own knowledge of demons - or your kind in particular - is... limited. What I am told is dreadful, that you crave the souls of men, that you win them by conquering their hearts and minds with the heavenly weapon between your thighs. That your kiss can drain the life from a man and your schemes often span lifetimes of mortals, rather than mere years or months. I am told your kind can not -love-, at least... not truly," he said, watching her closely, looking for any hint of reaction, though he did not expect any. "And if that is true - especially the part about love - then I humbly offer my pity to you, lady."<br><br>She spoke of his being here against his will, and reminded him that the chain about his neck, that insufferable collar, was something much more than it appeared. She also spoke of his choices when morning comes, easy retreats and untroubled sleep.<br><br>He was sure he was beyond hope of that now. How could he sleep for -days- now, after what had happened? This event was obviously not common for him, and it was the result of powerful magic. It endangered him, and he learned that his King had already been a victim of it. How much sway did she have of his majesty? How much of that sway transferred to the King's decisions? A woman using what charms she had available to her could quite easily bend a man to her will - even the King. And a woman - a demoness - like Jazelle, could likely do it quite -easily-...<br><br>She stepped away from him, and his thoughts were interrupted with a fleeting emotion: loss. She no longer touched him, and there was a small sorrow in that. He cleared his throat gently and focused his mind on her, waiting patiently and quietly. Slowly but surely her body began to -change-. He watched with fascination - if he had the ability to do what she was doing now, there was no telling what great feats of sabotage and subterfuge he could inflict upon his enemies! She simply stood before him, changing a bit here, a bit there - the more attractive parts of her melting away as if she were some humanoid wax candle sat too close to a flame. <br><br>Duncan knew disappointment. He had failed, he had fallen short, he had not lived up to someone else's expectations, he had done all that and more in his life, so feeling disappointed was nothing new. And now, as he saw her in her true form, he felt disappointment once again. <br><br>He had hoped her true form would give him back some level of -control-, had hoped that it would help ground him, remind him what he was up against, whose thumb he was squirming beneath. Instead, he found himself oddly attracted to her, from the milky color of her skin and hair, to the horns crowning her head, and especially to the tail that wrapped around her own waist... she was an exotic curiosity, and for a moment, his hand actually rose slowly, as if to reach out and touch her - though he stopped it well before reaching her. Dropping his hand back to his side, his eyes simply roamed her body, taking in all the differences.<br><br>He had hoped her true form would terrify him into losing the rigidity in his manhood. But if anything, it only <em>solidified</em> it.<br><br>"My apologies," he whispered, he hadn't -intended- to reach out to touch her, and was just glad he had caught himself short of doing so. Still, he didn't want the motion to insult her one way or the other. He licked his lips, his eyes rising up her body this time, and meeting her gaze. Were those eyes of hers hollow? Or was it a trick of the light? Were they as they were because of an eternity of wickedness? Or had she lost something in her long existence that made them the way they were? Had they ever been lively? Or had they always been that way.<br><br>"You're beautiful," he said simply, his voice slightly louder and quite genuine. If he was back home, trying to seduce a woman to his bed, he might wax poetic about his intended victim's charms, or particular parts of her body, but here before Jazelle he felt almost at a loss for words. How often did one meet a demon? How often did one stand before a succubus? How often had he met a woman so... <em>unique</em>? If she truly had powers of empathy or more, she'd know that his words were true.<br><br>Without another word, though, his hands then rose upward slowly to his waist, his fingers lightly grasping the two drawstrings that kept his breeches clinging to his hips. His eyes remained on her face as his hands worked slowly, preparing for his part of the bargain. It wasn't the prospect of being nude in front of her that slowed his movements - it was the simple fact that with a gaze she would be able to clearly see the effect that she had on him. That felt like a form of vulnerability, his body betraying his true desires to the enemy. As the tie came undone, the cloth slowly went slack and began to slide down his hips, and buttocks - getting caught on the near solid length of his erection. A light tug brought the fabric over that, as well, and then his breeches fell without any further resistance down to the floor at his feet. <br><br>Duncan stood nude before her now, completely bare. There was -some- amount of relief now that his manhood was free of the cloth confines, but there was no hiding his obvious desire now. His hips, ass, and thighs were strong and muscled just as the rest of his body was, near-perfet proportions for a man who obviously took great care of himself. His endowment was by no means small, actually being a bit larger than average for a man of his size - without being freakishly huge. He was no horse, that much was for certain, but he had surrendered many rides to many women, and never had he heard a complaint through their cries of pleasure.<br><br>"I believe it's your next question, Lady Jazelle?" he offered, his voice calm and gentle as it had been so far. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-06-2014, 21:11:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div>Jazelle said nothing in response to the general's sally regarding praise for demonkind.&nbsp; He was, of course, correct in most aspects.&nbsp; However, there was one very glaring weakness in his rather smug riposte, but pointing it out could wait.&nbsp; It would be all the better if he came to an understanding of it without being led ... and she, herself, was no defender of demons, as few of the bloodline would aid her save that it benefitted them.&nbsp; Most would be happy to destroy her, and those that would not would prefer that she be returned to the thrall, to be once more possessed, chained, by any strong enough to do so.<br><br>Though her eyes possessed no visible pupils, she could see without difficulty.&nbsp; Though she did not KNOW what he was thinking, at least not without the aid of magics that would likely destroy any tenuous trust that had been built, she was attuned to the many physical clues that his body demonstrated, clues that usually spoke more truly than any words.&nbsp; The beat of his pulse picked up, but it was not the cadence of fear.&nbsp; The widening of his eyes, the turn of his head, the lifting of his hand - desire, curiosity, appreciation.&nbsp; She knew that her appearance had not pushed him from her a heartbeat before he spoke, and simply inclined her head in silent thanks.<br><br>Many of her kind enjoyed the bouquet of fear in their nostrils, upon their tongue, but she had never cared for it, at least in those she would bed.&nbsp; Oh, it was an acrid and tart enough sensation, pleasing when it saved her trouble of slaughter, and those whom it sat better on than any sweet flush of desire.&nbsp; Even so, she was pleased that no whiff of it rose from Duncan's skin.<br><br>Though he would have been correct that she had viewed many a naked man unclothed, generally in a like state of excitement, it would also be true to say that she never failed to appreciate the sight, particularly when the man in question had engaged her interest in other ways.&nbsp; Her eyes followed the movements of his hands as he undid the tie that held up his breeches.&nbsp; Even though he appeared as ready as spear drawn back to be cast, she could also sense his reluctance in the fight of his muscles against the gesture, the defensive tightening.&nbsp; &nbsp;As his attributes were as impressive as the rest of him, she felt it safe enough to conclude that it was as she had said ... vulnerability for vulnerability, an even trade. <br><br>That pleased her, as did the steadiness of his voice as he reminded her of the turn of their game.&nbsp; Honor and desire both.&nbsp; Her eyes returned to his face, which pleased her no less, lingering on the trip as was deserved.<br><br><em>"It is.&nbsp; And what touch would you have from me as I speak it, and you answer?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>23-06-2014, 21:39:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan immediately began to wonder how much like her former 'suitors' he sounded. Paying her praise for being attractive was likely a line of conversation she might find boring, having s heard it countless times before. He had expected her true form to be terrible to behold, but it wasn't. In fact, it was curious and exotic and had had the opposite effect on him that he expected and desired. Part of him did not -want- to be attracted to her, hoping that if he found her hideous, it might allow him to control his urges all the more easily.<br><br>Instead, he was growing more and more curious by the moment... what would her skin taste like? What would intimacy with her feel like? What sensations would his fingers experience as her ghostly white hair slid between them? Would her body respond like a human woman's would? Would she enjoy the same treatment he was so skilled at giving women of his own kind? Would her body respond more to a slow, sensual plundering of her core, or would it respond more feverishly to being treated like an animal and taken in a most primal manner? He tried - and failed - to push aside such thoughts. <br><br>But one thing was clearly certain now: she could easily see his arousal, there was clearly no doubt about that now, his desire for her, his body's want to her her beneath him, or atop him, or in some way that would pleasure them both. There was some small relief in that: no matter how hard he had tried to keep his lust for her secret, it was in the open now and he had no reason to hide it any longer or pretend that it did not exist - though such knowledge, in his eyes, offered him very little solace.<br><br>Her voice agreed with his observation, and in turn she asked how he would like their next touch to proceed as she queried him anew. He thought for a moment, a moment that lingered longer than he had intended. Was she -waiting- for him to bring her closer? To bring her body into contact with his own? Was she simply biding her time patiently waiting for him to crack? He desired to touch her, for certain, but he did not want to appear weak or -too- lustful. He didn't want to be just any other man whom she had seduced within seconds of meeting.<br><br>"Your arms around my neck, embracing me," he said, thinking such a thing to be innocent enough. A hug, harmless and gentle, would indeed bring them closer without the assumption of a carnal quality to it - he hoped. But as soon as he uttered it, he felt himself looking -forward- to her embrace, wanting to touch her even more than before, if possible. Not wanting to appear too eager was one thing, but he was most certainly eager enough.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-06-2014, 05:46:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The demoness made a small, pleased sound low in her throat.&nbsp; His choice was not bold upon its face, but it was one ripe with many possibilities.&nbsp; How much his unconscious mind influenced the choice was another question, but not one that demanded an answer in words.&nbsp; She was content to discover the answer in the further course of their interactions.<br><br>Before the breeze off the sea could dampen his body's ardor, or retard it's slow burn, Jazelle closed the short distance between them and slid her arms up and around his neck.&nbsp; In the doing, her body pressed against against his in a most familiar fashion, though her clothes regretfully provided more of a barrier than she would have ideally preferred.<br><br>Still, though she was still fully clothed, he was not ... and the clothing she wore had been made to her specifications to accentuate the hourglass shape of her figure.&nbsp; Too, the warmth from her body traveled through both cloth and leather, adding another dimension to the sense of touch as the salt-scented breeze blew in bearing teeth that nipped and teased gently.&nbsp; Her fingernails raked gently at the nape of his neck beneath the curls, and even as her wrists crossed and locked around him, her fingertips continued the caress.<br><br>Assessingly, she gazed up at him with eyes that logic said should see nothing at all, and yet seemingly drank every clue his body, his voice, his words and his silence, offered.&nbsp; Her head dipped in, lips hovering over the skin of his collarbone, her breath warming, so close that scent almost ... almost ... carried with it the delicious taste of his sweat that she longed to lick away.&nbsp; Yet she pulled up just short of touching more than his choice.&nbsp; Her eyes fixed upon his lips for a long, pregnant moment, before returning to his eyes.<br><br><em>"My question for you is this, my general.&nbsp; Imagine, if you would, hypothetically of course ... that this embrace lead to another, and yet another, and the hunger that both we feel grows until it can no longer be denied.&nbsp; Imagine that we find ourselves upon yonder bed, or against a wall, or even once more upon the floor.&nbsp; Your eyes are closed, your body burning with the feel of my skin against yours, the taste of me upon your lips, the memory of my lips upon you ... the pulse of your blood so strong within your length that it must be sheathed or you will surely split asunder."</em><br><br>Her voice was barely a whisper, a slight rasp of huskiness ithat roughened it a very-human sounding admission of her own state of arousal. <em> "When you open your eyes, Duncan ... the empty space that separates us so close that the slightest movement will be to our hungers like sweet water from the deepest well when throats are parched to leather ... woulldst thou see my face as it is now, or as I first appeared to you?"</em><br><br>The question was serious, but framed so that, she hoped, it would fire his imagination and begin working upon his resolve more actively.&nbsp; He desired her, certainly, not enough ... not enough for the purposes of the lesson that was hers to impart, and not enough for her own desires.&nbsp; To have him fully ... if only in the stolen moments away from his duty ... she found she wanted, selfishly, for herself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>04-07-2014, 10:06:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Duncan almost began to regret his words immediately after saying them. It was too late to unsay them, of course, and what was done was done. He imagined the slight change of her face, the slightest alteration of the way she held herself was the very subtle display of some sort of little triumph in her eyes. Hatred for his own weakness flared within him, disappointment in himself for so readily giving in to the wishes of his physical self. <br><br>But the voice in the back of his mind urged him on, and began to make excuses for him. ~You're stuck here until she frees you, so you might as well enjoy yourself while you're here,~ was one of the voice's plaintive excuses. ~If she wanted to harm you, she already would have,~ was another. ~You've never fucked a demoness before... wouldn't you try anything once?~ was yet another, and so on, and so forth, the darker side of his desires manifesting itself more firmly now, urging him to give-in to his more base desires. <br><br>He didn't even know if she would -allow- it. Would she simply lie down and spread her thighs for him if he expressed such a wish? Would she simply lie there as he plunged into her, to the hilt, driving her into the carpeted floor as if they were lovers long parted, yet recently reunited? Somehow he didn't think it would be that simple. If she ached to have him - she would already be having him. There was more to all of this, he knew, and his mind, as young as it was compared to -her-, was still desperately trying to assemble all the puzzle pieces together.<br><br>She quietly moved closer, catching his attention. In the silence between them, his eyes observed her even more clearly the closer she moved toward him. The exotic nature of her true form (if it really -was- her true form - she could yet be hiding it for all he knew) drew his eye more surely than any woman in his king's land would have. Jazelle was unlike any woman he had ever met - or even read about, not that he spent much time reading about beings of darkness to begin with.<br><br>Immediately he felt her warmth - even beneath the clothing. His mind raced quickly, imagining what her nude flesh would feel like against him, instead. Would it be even warmer? Would the inside of her mouth make his tongue blister? Would the inside of her sex be a furnace to his throbbing member? If so - he imagined that they would *both* be sorely disappointed if they finally agreed to share carnal delights - only for his most sensitive parts to erupt into flames upon the first thrust.<br><br>Her arms moved around his neck, her body pressed against his as a bracingly cool breeze created a contrast to the heat of her body, covered in clothing or not. He had the sudden urge to press more firmly against her, to seek her warmth, and curl into her as if seeking shelter from the cool air - but he was barely able to resist. That had not been his choice, and to touch her in a way she did not request was not apart of their game. Her nails then raked gently at the nape of his neck, causing the most powerful shiver he could recall to race down his spine. How would those nails feel gently grazing across the super-vulnerable skin of his sack, caressing his stones as his length ached for something - anything - warm and moist?<br><br>Jazelle's eyes locked on his, and quickly he did his best to clear his mind, though it was becoming more difficult. He knew there were 'cracks' in his mental walls, but that's all they were - for now. He felt confident he could still outlast her, either boring her to death to the point she sent him away - or until *she* gave-in first to her own carnal desires and initiated the true endgame he was beginning to -<em>hope</em>- for.<br><br>Her face moved forward, out of his line of sight, and he could feel her breath on his skin. He allowed his eyes to close, summoning his will to resist the temptation to purr. As she began to pull away, his eyes opened once more. <br><br>Then she was speaking. The images she provoked came swift and vivid to his mind's eye. He could easily picture the two of them rutting on her bed, or against the wall, or upon the floor. No... why 'or'? Why not <em>all the above</em>, once, twice, thrice even? He said nothing, remaining silent, his eyes locked to her eerie yet intriguing white orbs as she continue to describe the 'hypothetical' situation. Then, curiously, she asked which 'version' of her he would see in his memories of his time spent with her in the various states of intimacy she had alluded to.<br><br>He pondered for a moment, but it was not a long one before he answered.<br><br>"I would see your face as it is now, if I was allowed to have my preference," he replied in a soft whisper of his own, his eyes still boldly looking down into hers. "I would hope to see the -real- you, Jazelle - not some fake image, not some -lie-. I would hope to see the pleasure on your face, the smile of reaching your zenith countless times, the open-lipped, slack-jawed look of pleasure as I did things to you that you enjoyed. Perhaps, with some effort - I might even make you blush, and -that- would be an image worth remembering for all time, the faint hint of red painted on your beautiful white cheeks," he said, smiling faintly for a moment. <br><br>"But in the end, no matter what sort of game you play with me, no matter what evils you might visit upon me now or later, if I could witness your true face during and after the various events that you described, then I would feel quite satisfied and fortunate indeed," he said. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>10-07-2014, 23:41:12</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				​Being a succubus had its benefits, and also had the built in advantage that none that she had ever known suffered from the human ailment of frigidity.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was a concept that she had thought a particular conceit of males to explain their lack of constancy ... not that she had truly understood their guilt ... until she had been confronted with a woman who truly was without desire. The memory of it still made her shiver slightly with something akin to pity.&nbsp; In her travels, she had come across others with this same particular lack, and she could only suppose it was to humans no more strange than being without sight or hearing.&nbsp; The loss of any of her senses, the mere thought of it, was a glimpse into the abyss ... but of them all, the absence of that particular pleasure was unimaginable.<br><br>As it was, the carnal thoughts that invaded the general's mind, at her urging, were as sweet as perfume.&nbsp; She could not see into his mind in thought, but the images were borne to her in fragmented flashes, without color, but infused with both sound and heat.&nbsp; &nbsp;They acted upon her like pheremones, like a touch or kiss, and they were close enough now that the shiver of want that ran through her communicated itself through the faint barrier of clothing.<br><em><br>"Then that is what you will see,"</em> she agreed, wasting no effort in protesting the truth of what she had revealed.&nbsp; He would believe or he would not, and whatever she might do or say he would only take as evidence to support that which was likely already decided, even if neither of them were sure how the coin would land.&nbsp; <em>"Though the amount of effort employed I will leave to you.&nbsp; I will confess that I shall be extremely disappointed if you hold back in the slightest, after all that I have heard and now see for myself."</em><br><br>For a moment, she considered whether a succubus could truly blush ... flush, certainly, when the physical body was under stress or unusual tension or heightened emotion.&nbsp; She had feigned the condition with her magic, when seducing some impressionable lordling with his own desires for innocence, certainly.&nbsp; Perhaps that condition, like an abhorrence of being invaded by the most intimate of caresses, was totally beyond her capabilities or comprehension ... but she was certain that she would enjoy putting it to the test if he were to be the instigator.<br><br>All the while, as she spoke and as she thought, the latter taking less time than she might have preferred as her fingers teased along the center of his neck beneath the dark curls, her arms encircled him, and her body pressed lightly against his in a manner that might have been taken for shyness if the brush of her breasts through the cloth had not revealed her hunger for his touch, and had her hips not known exactly how and when to sway against him to ensure that his interest did not flag.<br><br><em>"And now ... the question is yours, and the choice of touch mine.&nbsp; I think ..." </em> Jazelle paused, flexing her fingers against his scalp and drawing them downward once more.&nbsp; "<em>I think that the touch I would like from you ... is the touch of your fingers as you unlace this lovely blouse which I wear.&nbsp; &nbsp;And I shall further complicate things for you by confessing my interest in whether you will touch me thus as both we long for ... or whether you will choose the path of denial and restraint."</em><br><br>She did not remove her arms from around his neck, though she did pull back just a bit to gaze up into his eyes, cocking her head slightly to the side.&nbsp; Words were such wonderfully, delightfully, wicked things ... foreplay and aphrodisiac all in one.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-07-2014, 16:11:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>He felt the faintest shiver come from her, even though her clothes, even past his own tense demeanor. Duncan imagined that his own arousal was a thing of pride for her, knowing that he had resisted, had tried to avoid it yet still ended up suffering from it might very well stroke her ego. Perhaps that was where the shiver came from that he felt. Or, he hoped that it was a result of her own arousal - which only made his arousal even more enjoyable.<br><br>She proclaimed that what he just spoke of, is what he would see. For some reason, he had little doubt that her reactions, her enjoyment - if she did enjoy it - would be real and not some illusion. Duncan simply had the impression that when it came to sensuality, she had zero reason to 'fake it', and if her chosen victim failed to live-up to her desires he was fairly certain that she would let them know in no uncertain terms.<br><br>Jazelle also expressed what would disappoint her: if he held back in the slightest, especially after all she had heard and seen. This caused him to tilt his head slightly to the side. Had her words been a veiled challenge of some sort? Did she truly believe that he might 'hold back' if given the chance to enjoy her? "I will not hold back," he whispered softly in response. "I assure you, when it comes to matters of the bedroom... I see no *reason* to hold back. Our bodies were made for it, were made for the dance. Sure, attempting to hold back that sweet moment of release is a different matter - only done so in order to enjoy the sensations a bit longer. But if you worry that any reluctance will hold back my full efforts to please our bodies... that is a worry you need not consider," he assured her, trying to sound confident without sounding arrogant. In truth, he had no idea if he could really pleasure her or not. She wasn't even -human-. Perhaps she couldn't even BE pleasured physically, and that was her curse. He had no idea - but he silently hoped he would find out soon.<br><br>Then she spoke again - seeking his question as she made her demand for touch. He barely resisted a groan of relief as she not only gave him permission, but expressed her desire for him to unlace her blouse - also expressing her curiosity about the notion of his touching her. Again - a veiled challenge of sorts? Almost teasing him about the prospect of choosing 'denial and restraint'. Something in the back of his mind pleaded with him to do exactly that: deny and restrain himself, but the bulk of his thoughts had already come to the conclusion that doing so was pointless and futile, that he was going to give-in at some point, and the sooner he did - the sooner they might enjoy one another.<br><br>It was an excuse to touch her, of course, and to pursue her, and deep down he knew he was failing himself. He was certain on some level she was gloating, as well. What man could refuse her? At least in his eyes, no mortal could. Shouldn't that give him some solace, then? Duncan faintly felt shame in giving-in, as if he had simply proven to her that he was every bit as weak as all of her previous conquests. He didn't want to believe that, he wanted to be -superior- to them in the bedroom just as he felt superior to other men on the battlefield... again, reminding himself briefly that the bedroom -was- just another 'type' of battlefield to conquer - and be conquered upon.<br><br>But such thoughts flashed through his mind in the span of a heartbeat, and his gaze offered no hint as to his concerns. Instead, he began to move, his hands rising upward to find the bow of laces she had referred to. Slowly, his fingers found the ends and gently began to pull - slowly, with just enough pressure to ease the thin strands into motion.<br><br>"My question... is a simple one, but one that I am curious about," he said, looking down into her eyes, she had backed away just enough for his hands to work, inviting him openly to follow through on her request. His hands felt the gently tug as the bow came undone, and then with surprising skill, his hands then began to unlace the garment with a careful tenderness that belied his size and stature. All this he did while he spoke, without even looking as his eyes remained focused on hers.<br><br>"Have you ever felt the grip of true love?" he asked, for as simple as it sounded, it was a curiosity he had pondered. Can a creature that was supposed to be so evil, wicked and vile, even -contemplate- what love was like? Was it possible for them to feel it, and even more curious - had she ever felt it herself, he wondered? "As you likely know, love and carnal passion are two very different creatures, despite sharing the same pedigree in some circumstances," he said, his hands finally reaching the last lace that held her blouse closed across her breastline. With a last gentle tug, it, too, fell away, and the garment seemed to relax, revealing her cleavage quite easily. <br><br>Slowly, he slipped the fingers of both hands into the opening between the two sides of material that covered her bosom, careful to avoid touching her flesh, and then his hands slowly rose upward towards both of her shoulders, the cloth riding against the backs of his palms. Her blouse opened easily, like the pages of a cloth-made book, parting, revealing, sliding so easily. When his hands reached her shoulders, his skin did touch her finally, brushing against both sides of her collarbone, urging the garment back and over each shoulder whereupon it gathered there, kept in place now only because her arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck.<br><br>"Love is also much different than lust, though many mortals confuse the two," he added, then his hands moved back downward, as did his gaze as he let his eyes come to rest now on her exposed breasts. His hands moved down slowly, as if he were going to simply capture her flesh within his grasp - but instead, as they approached her breasts, he lifted them, pulling his hands back a fraction of an inch so that they no longer retained contact with her skin. Instead, when his hands finished moving, they gave the impression as if they were cupping her breasts, but they weren't: the only part of his hands that actually touched her were the soft insides of his palms - each of them brushing only against her nipples in a sort of -tease-. His fingers, the heel of his palms hovered a mere fraction above her skin, so close she'd likely to be able to feel the heat of them against her skin - but nothing else. The only point of contact other than her arms around his neck was the ghost-like contact of his soft flesh solely caressing her nipples in slow, faint circles and nothing else. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-07-2014, 00:58:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"It pleases me to hear it, my general," </em>the succubus answered as quietly as his words had been, the hint of smile lingering about her pale eyes and rose-tinted lips.&nbsp; &nbsp;Words were such lovely things.&nbsp; Some would have one believe they were as immutable as stone, but in truth they were the opposite and soaked up a hundred or more different flavors upon each uttering, like fresh baked bread sopped into stew.&nbsp; Like the bread, they were transformed by what they absorbed.&nbsp; In his whisper, she thought that the very strain to hear him entirely was very much like a promise, emphasized by its delivery more thoroughly than if he had uttered them in a loud and ringing voice.<br><br>There was no need of mind reading skills for her to be aware of the conflict within Duncan, the man who had presided over many a battle surely more complicated than this small skirmish.&nbsp; It was enough that he was losing, little by little, the battle to hold himself aloof and unwilling.&nbsp; Later, she might take some pride in the success of her approach for the overall purpose of bringing him here, but for now, she was much more aware of, and pleased by, his response on a more personal level.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her desire for him had been real enough that she would not have hesitated to take him to her bed for no other reason than taking the measure of the man that he appeared to be.&nbsp; Yet now, the desire to have him was a deluge rather than a pleasant spring drizzle, a hunger forged of countless hours watching others feast while an empty belly gnawed.<br><br>The movement of his fingers was, then, like the aroma of a plate full of hearty delicacies set before her, with the knowledge that she had to but wait upon a few more niceties.&nbsp; And, of course, it helped that the niceties themselves had been, thus far, both fascinating and enjoyable.<br><br>Her breath did not falter as he worked at the laces, undoing them so carefully and steadily that she wondered if he thought he were disarming some complicated trap left behind to catch a thief.&nbsp; It was, in some ways, more arousing than a firmer touch.&nbsp; She could feel the shape of his hands in the movement of the air in their wake, and her body responded to that butterfly wing caress, lifting, firming, offering itself to his eyes, his lips, and the full press of those wonderfully tractile appendages.&nbsp; It required somewhat of an effort to focus upon his words, to let them caress her as surely as he soon would.&nbsp; She had not truly known before that a man so well-versed in military and tactical matters could speak like a bard, but her general was wonderfully versatile. <br><br><em>"You are a lovely tease, Duncan," </em>she announced softly as he finally, finally, allowed his fingers to brush more than the air, though the scrape of his lined palms against the very tip of the hardened, expectant nipples he had uncovered.&nbsp; Her breath blew out with the words in a shuddering sigh, and for a long moment she said nothing, the better to continue the caress as she felt the flush of moist heat beneath the cover of her skirt.<br><br><em>"No, though I have felt ... something.&nbsp; Liking, admiration, protectiveness, tenderness ... There have been some few whose passing I have mourned, and those who I will mourn when they have passed beyond this realm ... but this thing mortals call true love that binds them to another soul beyond all others ..." </em> Jazelle stopped, and closed her eyes upon the rush of memory of those who had come to mean more than a passing amusement. <em> "Yet this depth of emotion that focuses upon one being to the exclusion of all others, life binding to life ... no.&nbsp; This I have not known, and it is perhaps not a thing one such as myself CAN know." </em><br><br>She stopped, paused, and then smiled faintly, her blank eyes revealing nothing more than her words. <em> "I do not know whether this is bane or blessing."</em><br><br>Her words were barely louder than the breeze, and for a long moment she said nothing at all more, both to enjoy the barely perceptible caress and because of such topics he surely knew more than she. <br><br>When she spoke again, she did not elaborate, but only proceeded to the next turn of their game.&nbsp; <em>"And the touch of your choosing for my question?" </em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-07-2014, 23:53:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				It pleased her to hear his words... of course it did. Duncan realized he was walking right into her clutches, giving her exactly what she wanted, despite his every resistance. Of course, that only seemed to make her enjoy it even more. If he had wanted to rebel against her properly, he should have given-in to her from the outset, crushing her hopes for the long, enjoyable seduction. Then again, that would have meant he had accepted that notion that resistance was futile, that remaining strong against her teasing and advances would have somehow gotten him out of this situation. It would have meant admitting defeat from the start, and that just wasn't the way Duncan thought, nor how his spirit flourished.<br><br>Now, though, he was beginning to see that the outcome, the slow crumbling before her as his lust slowly rose and his resistance slowly crumbled, was almost preordained. It was inevitable.<br><br>But that didn't mean he'd make it easy for her. <br><br>She seemed to be enjoying him on several levels, and it was no mere feeling of arrogance that made him believe this to be true. She was enjoying the seduction, which he could see now was almost akin to a 'hunt' for people of his own kind. When the King went for a hunt, it was -inevitable- that the game would be brought down, but the act of the hunt, the journey itself was the truly enjoyable part of the activity. The claiming of the game at the end was the climax, nearly orgasmic in a way - the completion of a mission that the hunter had set out upon with the goal to enjoy. From the decision to enact the hunt, to the claiming of the prize, the complete event was what drove men to do it, even if it was merely for sport and not out of necessity.<br><br>The same went for Jazelle, too, Duncan realized. She didn't -need- him. She didn't -need- to find a man to fill her nethers. She -desired- it. From the moment she set her eyes upon Duncan, to the very end - whatever that end might be - she was enjoying her 'hunt', enjoying the process of watching him slowly lose control. But even though he realized this, Duncan felt nearly powerless to stop it, not when some part of him desired it so deeply.<br><br>That darker part of him, willfully kept at bay all this time, was slowly gaining ground within him. So -what- if he gave in? He could then enjoy the delicious creature in front of him, sample what so many other men had sampled, enjoy an otherworldly passion unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His mind was blistering full of curiosities, eager to compare her body to that of a normal woman - would his skills send her into a roiling tempest of bliss as he so often did to his mortal lovers? Or would she be moved at all by his attempts at taming her body? How long did he think he might last within her? How long would she be able to bear his body mastering hers?<br><br>He felt himself stiff, rigid with a faint thudding pulse that betrayed his own eagerness, despite his words. If she but lowered her eyes she could watch his manhood twitch and dance as if eager for a 'hunt' of its own... its chosen victim mere inches from where he now stood. So close to its quarry, so very, very close...<br><br>She proclaimed -him- a tease? Now -that- was right unfair of her. She of course knew what her own body was doing to him, her words, her voice, and now she was complimenting him. Perhaps there was a hint of surprise in her voice - had she not expected him to at least attempt to give as good as he got? Her nipples hardened, a reaction he had hoped for, a hint of her own arousal. Her own words were soft shudders of pent-up eagerness. Perhaps it was fake, a ploy, a way for her to make him -think- she desired him as much as he desired her, and as always his mind considered these things, these false presentations.<br><br>Jazelle then gave her answer to his question, and he found her answer quite different than he had expected. He had expected her to simply shake her head and confirm his suspicion that her kind could not feel such things at all, but her words - if they were to be believed - indicated otherwise. True love, though, seemed to be out of her reach, but the other emotions she described could be enough, if summed together, to give hints of that rare and powerful emotion. Her answer saddened him, for even though he himself had only felt that feeling once before and it had ended tragically, he did not regret it, and he did hope that he would feel it again one day. <br><br>But Jazelle, by her own admission, might not -ever- feel such a thing. "Perhaps that is your true curse, then," he said gently in response. "Perhaps you were... created... that way on purpose, so that you might fulfill your own destiny - if you believe in that sort of thing. If that is true... then I pity you, Jazelle, despite your charms and your powers." He knew his words might upset her, but he said them anyway. His voice was still calm and gentle, he was not intending to insult her, but to imagine an existence where love was not -possible- almost terrified Duncan. He had always believed that one day he would find -someone- to settle down with, to enjoy the later years in life with. Yet Jazelle was not a mortal as such, and there would never -be- a 'settling down' for her, most likely. It was a sad realization for him, and he firmly believed it contributed to the person she was now.<br><br>The silent pause between them was broken when she spoke, indicating her being done discussing the subject as she asked for the next touch of his choosing.<br><br>He licked his lips, mind racing, trying to think of something innocent that he could express as his next desire, but such restraint was slowly slipping away. Slowly he pulled his hands back, leaving her breasts exposed as his hands moved back down to his sides. <br><br>"I ask for you to extend a hand... beneath my stem... to caress my stones...," he said, almost whispering it aloud. He swallowed, having changed his words at the last moment. He had intended for her to wrap her fingers around his staff and grip part of his length, but that was too much... too forward... and at the last second his words diverted her hand downward, asking her to caress his jewels. He almost instantly regretted it, knowing that such a thing would likely only drive him further into darkness, but it would stay her direct touch... for awhile. Besides, she might even refuse him, but had a feeling that he would soon find out.<br><br>"And your question, of course," he added.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-08-2014, 20:43:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				​Resolve was an interesting quality.&nbsp; In the days that she had served through having neither choice, or even conception of such a concept, it had been entertaining to hone her skills in breaking it down.&nbsp; Often there was a weakness, a keystone, that could crumble such defenses in a matter of seconds.&nbsp; She had become skilled at finding that pressure point, probing for it like a healer and using clues often more subtle.&nbsp; &nbsp;The exultation of watching it crumble had been exhilarating, and as pleasurable in its own way as foreplay or the sex itself.&nbsp; The stronger the resolve, the stronger the climax in bringing it down, and she had often rewarded the victim well before leaving him to the agonies of betrayal.<br><br>She was no longer that creature, though it would not be honest to say that she regretted the part she had played in many a downfall, many a punishment.&nbsp; She saw little sense in regretting a creation she had had no part in.&nbsp; The wringing of hands and mournful anguish of regret that filled the waking hours of so many of the 'righteous' was not for her ... not even that woken by empathy rather than the fear of punishment.&nbsp; She was not unacquainted with regret ... but this had not been the general's question.<br><br>It was an intriguing puzzle, this dance between them.&nbsp; As much as he fought it, she thought that perhaps the good general no longer completely believed the worst.&nbsp; It was a far, far distance between where they were and trust, but they had both taken at least a tiny step in that direction. Perhaps this would be ... Jazelle stopped herself short from such contemplation.&nbsp; What did humans call it -- putting the cart before the horse?<br><br>She took no offense at his words, but rather cocked her head to study his expression as she basked in the sensation of warmth from the braziers, and from the closeness of his body.&nbsp; The salt-laden wind from the sea blew in gently to caress them, refreshing the senses and inviting further closeness as it fed upon the heat.&nbsp; She could feel the heat from his out-thrust cock like a waiting brand, and she ached to feel it against her skin, beneath her grasp, thrusting within.&nbsp; It was a pleasant ache, a throb within like the course of blood; the hunger heightened just enough to better anticipate the first taste.<br><br>When he spoke the terms of his touch, pale eyebrows raised, and her head tilted enough for the pale eyes to study him sideways in a gesture that might have been given by any woman of the court, one well pleased with what she had heard.&nbsp; Her appraisal made it easy for her to see the tiny gestures that indicated he was already damning himself for a perceived weakness ... and yet there was an eagerness that lay beyond the dismay that flicked up within him like a fire.<br><br>She moved him, by the simple expedient of moving herself, turning them until it was her back against the open window, using her gaze rather than the chain.&nbsp; As they turned, the coolness of smooth marble gave way to the softness of fur as she used her command of her demesne to cover the floor beneath the window with the softness of the treated pelt.&nbsp; Without a word, she knelt upon it before him, but there was no hint of weakness nor submission in her steady gaze.&nbsp; Despite their position, she did not break the connection between their eyes, even as her hands slid between his thighs and demanded, urged, a chance in his stance to better facilitate his request.<br><br>It would be, she thought, a delightful mix between anticipation and his regret, softening neither with hurry.&nbsp; Yet finally, as she held him with her eyes, her fingers did at last move up slowly along his thigh, a brushing so faint as to be easily mistaken for an accident, until they encountered the soft fullness of his sac.&nbsp; She cupped him, cradled, a curious thumb sweeping through the crisp curls to take the shape of him. <em> "My question, then, is this, my general."</em><br><br>Her voice was as soft as his had been, as sultry as his had been filled with longing tinged by fear.&nbsp; &nbsp;She squeezed that which she held, gently, lifting, before her grip changed to a soft, tickling caress over his heaviness, alert for his reactions and in no hurry to speak.&nbsp; Yet, after but a short delay, feeling the movements of his erect shaft and swollen head just beyond the scope of her vision as she toyed with and teased those jewels a man holds most precious, she asked it.<br><br><em>"Why do you feel pity, if I cannot feel that which you can feel, but have forsworn?&nbsp; A weakness, a vulnerability, so threatening and vast&nbsp; that you have walled it away from you, exiled it like a king's byblow into the wastes from which there is no return?"</em><br><br>To ask such a question was a gamble in some ways.&nbsp; It was not necessary to the purpose of her presence, but ... it had promise all the same.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-08-2014, 08:49:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Duncan tried to focus on his surroundings, on anything but Jazelle or her touch. He focused on the breeze, how cool it felt against his skin despite the heat it was giving off. He focused on the salted scent of it, wondering which sea it was, knowing in his mind that it was some body of water -far- away from his own kingdom - or perhaps it didn't exist at all except in his imagination. He tried to focus on the feel of the floor beneath his feet, he tried to&nbsp; focus on his rapidly increasing heartbeat... anything but her, anything but her hand...<br><br>He had brought this upon himself, of course. Asking her to do such a thing was only inviting exquisite torture upon himself, but he was slowly losing the will to resist such sweet caresses. Why should he not enjoy this? He knew why, but did not care, or at least he began to care less and less as the minutes passed, as the hope of lasting until dawn faded with each passing second. Would it be so bad, to give-in to his lust? He was sure ever man before him had done so, so it wouldn't be such a terrible thing, would it? He would simply be joining the ranks of all the men she had conquered before him. He would simply become another notch in her bed-post, but what was the shame in that?<br><br>Her words... that's what he began to focus on, his eyes closed as her fingers lightly brushed up his thigh. Even when her fingers lightly found his heavy sac and cupped him, he bit back the groan that sought to escape his throat. He forced it down, as if it were some great damnable offense that he would not share. It was a soft choking sound, his breath quivering noticeably as her thumb slid along the opposite curve, cradling him in her palm. Above it, his stem ached and throbbed, twitching upward erratically at its full, unrestrained length. He was a sizable man - not freakishly so - but it would be easy to realize -why- so many women of the court sought his room out so regularly, even on the days when he was loathe to give them such pleasure, hoping that he might be swayed or convinced to allow them just a short ride, or a small taste...<br><br>Duncan clenched his teeth, fighting to keep his body from swaying against his will. Focus... focus on her voice, he kept telling himself, as she was speaking, and doing so might ease the immense jolt of lust he was now feeling wrack his entire frame. He winced softly - but in pleasure - when her hand moved, lifting, caressing his stones. He had never felt so -full- as he did in that moment, as if he could unleash a tidal wave of his essence upon her from her gentle touch alone. She paused, not continuing with her question quite yet, and he was sure she was stalling simply in order to torture him further.<br><br>How badly he wanted to guide the thick tip towards her lips! How badly he wanted to simply surrender himself and reach down, drag her to the bed, and impale himself into her with relentless fury! Such things would be complete and utter surrender, and that mere notion was all that kept him from attempting either action, knowing that doing so would be his folly. Instead, she finally started to speak, and he almost gasped in relief - finally, words he could focus on as her hand caressed and cajoled further.<br><br>When she finished, he slowly nodded his head once, understanding perfectly. She was simply curious about the pity he spoke of, and it intrigued her. That could be the only reason why she would ask him of it, but it was a complicated one - which at the moment he quite welcomed. He cleared his throat gently before beginning to speak.<br><br>"Such feelings are apart of being human," he began. "Though you are not human, such feelings are... unbelievably powerful. When felt mutually by two people - there is no power in existence that is stronger. Such emotion can....," he paused, letting out a slow, soft moan as his thick length bobbed upward again, twitching in response to her touch. "Such emotion can overcome anything, and if both people hold true, nothing can overcome it," he said. "I feel sad that you are not... capable... of feeling such a thing, even just once in your long existence. In this way, this one way, I am content to know that I am a mere human to you...," he said, his intent not to sound rude, but to explain why he would prefer to be human over one of her kind, despite the obvious advantages her kind possessed over humanity.<br><br>"To feel that, at least once...," he shook his head slowly. "There is simply nothing like it, Jazelle. It amplifies one's existence, and everything from a simple touch to full and utter sexual abandoned is -intensified-. It gives -meaning- where there was none, or little of it, before."<br><br>Talking to her had helped, it had allowed him to rein-in the near-escape of his senses. If he could keep talking, he could fend her off longer, he knew. Or if he could keep her talking, the same would be true. <br><br>"Your touch," he continued, not stalling, not slowling down, moving to the next phase of their back-and-forth. Silence, now, was his enemy. Discussion and conversation could help him. "What would you wish to feel?" he asked, hoping that she might choose something that might further allow him to focus his thoughts elsewhere. "And for my question, I would very much like to know if you have ever -genuinely- regretted not being able to feel love? True love? If you've ever dreamed of it, awake or asleep, ever wondered what it would be like..."<br><br>He wasn't fully aware that he had just asked several questions at once, more so he was just clarifying his first question, hoping it would distract her - and him - from the heightening senses that were taking place...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-08-2014, 20:19:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle found herself stirred by the passion and sincerity in the general's voice, certainly to the point of curiosity if not to the level of discarding logic.&nbsp; She was tempted to question the inconsistency of his fervor with his earlier statements, but such would be a question, and a question wasted for no good purpose.&nbsp; Any answer he gave would be suspect, not for his truthfulness but because of her experience at how very good mortals were at lying to themselves while believing they spoke truth.<br><br>This might be worth further exploration, but ... later.&nbsp; There was little time left for the game and she would not break from its rules, even for curiosity's sake.&nbsp; His body was hungry, and hers was incapable of not responding to that hunger, especially when joined with her own.<br><br>Silence was not her enemy, and her own thoughts did nothing to weaken her resolve.&nbsp; Of course, she was in a very different position from that of the general - by virtue of the collar's magic but also because she did not fear either Duncan nor herself.&nbsp; That was another intriguing point, and one that played into the collar's lesson, but its application depended on a subtlety that would be lost if hurried.<br><br>While she thought, she continued to stroke him, cupping, kneading, lifting to ease the fullness she could feel so enticingly that surely must be an increasing source of discomfort and need when she released his sac to the full force of gravity and desire, but this too seemed to edge against the barriers of their agreement.&nbsp; With reluctance, she let her hand slip away, and she retreated, step by step, loosening the belt that held her skirt as she moved.<br><br>His body against the open window was framed by the vista beyond, the light from the moon combining with the flickering flames of the braziers to bathe him in purple and orange shadows.&nbsp; He was a marvelous specimen of manhood, both for his body and the exquisite mind and soul that lay within.&nbsp; He had not shrunk from her true form, and nor had he sought refuge from the knowledge it represented, even against the lure of his own fantasies of the 'ideal' lover.<br><br>There, as the leather panels of her skirt made a soft slapping sound as they hit the floor, the back of her knees against the cool fabric of the bed's coverlet, she regretted that she had come to him at the behest of another.&nbsp; It would have been sweet indeed to simply go to him, turn him until their bodies melded together in seamless desire, to drown both their hungers in a sea of passion that would bear the both of them through until dawn.&nbsp; She did know regret, when once she had not.&nbsp; Perhaps, she thought, there was yet more to know as well.<br><br>For, now, though, she would settle for knowing his touch, as she gave answer to his question.&nbsp; And in the doing, she would continue to open his mind as she wore down the defenses of his body, even if the answer was not one he might expect or believe.<br><br>She was silent once more as she lay back upon the dark surface of the bed, her ivory skin a sharp contrast given the sheen of dusky poppies by the nearness of the braziers upon each side of the bed.&nbsp; She still wore the blouse and vest, open now to frame her breasts rather than conceal, but upon her hips was but a simple skirt of soft, black fabric that rode high to suggest the nakedness beneath it as she bent and lifted one leg in wordless invitation.<br><br><em>"The touch I would have from you as I give you my answer is this: the fullness of your blade, warrior, along my nether lips, as if practicing for the swiftness of its draw but not giving it sheathe."</em><br><br>By instinct alone, she returned to the verbal jousting, employing the terminology of a warrior as she enjoyed the contrast of the images, fury and determination against desire and pleasure, both in being pleasured and pleasuring another.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-08-2014, 09:19:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle's hand finally slowed, stopped - then moved away. Duncan's rod was as stiff as steel, rigidly arching upward in all its untamed glory. He was secretly grateful she stopped when she did, sure that if she had continued much longer, the precursor of his near-future eruption would have started to ooze from his tip. Instead, he fought to present a calm demeanor, relaxed and completely in control, even if his chest rose and fell more rapidly than usual, though he had not exerted himself in any way. It would be a give-away sign to any woman who knew what to look for, and Duncan was convinced that the creature before him was -quite- aware what to look for at all times.<br><br>She moved away from him, and her skirt suddenly slithered down her hips almost of its own accord, dropping past her thighs and landing on the floor with a soft clap of leather. This revealed more of her beautiful form to him, and his eyes took in the sight quietly. He registered the fact that is sac felt cool, now, with her hands absent, but that did not deter with aching rigidity of his passion that speared the air before him like some great ballista bolt yet launched.<br><br>His eyes continued to watch as she lay back on the dark surface of her bed, her ivory skin made all the more attractive to his eyes. Looking at her now, horns and ivory skin and inhuman eyes, he wanted her more than ever. She wasn't human - but that only made her exotic nature more enticing, and for a brief moment he wondered how many dozens or hundreds of men had also fallen prey to her -true- form, and how many had thought it was a terrible sight to behold.<br><br>Her vest and blouse were little more than window-dressing, frames accentuating her bountiful breasts rather than hiding them from his sight. They might offer him something to grab hold of, to pull or move her body should their passion become more physical than he anticipated. Covering her lower body now, with the leather skirt gone, was a sheer black skirt of some soft material, yet another stark contrast against her ghost-white skin.<br><br>Then she spoke, and once more, her wish for his touch was escalated once more. To touch her with his manhood - without sheathing himself within... his jaw clenched shut at the notion, knowing that this would be a challenge, to say the least - and she knew it would be. He could almost hear her laughing, almost hear her mocking tone already as he sank into her within seconds, unable to resist... Would she punish him? Would she harm him for being so weak to her charms? One way to avoid finding out, he knew - was to -resist-. <br><br>Without a word, he began to move. He stalked forward slowly, his body moving like a hunter's might as he closed in on his prey. The bed drew ever nearer, his solid phallus bobbing left and right in time with his stride. He reached the bed, and without hesitation, he moved to kneel upon it, his knees pressing into the fabric of the bedspread down near her knees. Slowly and carefully he moved, then, adjusting himself on his knees, first raising one to slide over her nearest leg, then the other, both of his knees now between hers as he turned to face her direction.<br><br>He had voiced his question, or rather a primary question and several smaller ones following it that he assumed she would ignore. But he said nothing as his knees began to slowly part, one after the other, shifting his weight from left to right and back again as his knees drew further apart. Being pressed against the inside of her own, this also forced her thighs apart, as well. His hands moved downward, sliding for a moment along each of her hips and then down beneath them, between her buttocks and the bed top - but it was just for a moment, as he suddenly -jerked- her body down the bed toward him, sliding the back of her ass against the tops of his thighs. <br><br>Duncan glanced down to see his manhood proudly straining upward between her thighs, and even though from her vantage point part of his length would be hidden from her view by her own body, there was still ample measure of him that she would still be able to see. His hands moved from behind her, down to her thighs, and his thumbs hooked beneath the black skirt material she still wore. Slowly - he eased it upward, bit by bit, revealing her sex to him as his eyes looked downward. Once the skirt was up around her hips, leaving her lower body bare to him, he suddenly leaned forward, as a man would who was about to penetrate his lover. Yet he did not.<br><br>Hovering above her, one of his hands pressed into the sheet just to the side of her left shoulder, his other hand slid down towards his raging cock, and guided it directly where she had claimed she wanted it to be. Slowly, using his hand at the base of his stem, he used the tip of his prod like a brush - and gently began to stroke up and down along her slit. He was eager of course to discover if her netherlips felt like a normal human, or if they would be rougher, or silkier, warmer or colder, wetter or dryer. <br><br>Slowly but surely he began to part her nethers, letting the rounded smoothness of his mushroom tip to gently separate the delicate skin, his eyes, though, focused on hers. He wanted to watch her closely, to see if any particular touch might garner some sort of reaction from her, or if some touches drew forth more reaction than other caresses. But even as her folds began to part for him, he resisted the urge, the hollow desire to slid down - and in, rather than back up again. He wanted to feel her grasp, to feel how she would take him, or even if she -could-. Would his fullness please her, or would she laugh and claim to have had thousands bigger and broader than him? Thinking of such things only made the temptation stronger, so he quickly cleared his mind of such thoughts, and focused on what he was doing.<br><br>Her fleshy petals were his canvas, and his cock was a brush, and right now he was painting an up and down picture, slowly... gently... watching her eyes and face to see how she would take such stimulation, along with waiting for her answer....
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-08-2014, 22:57:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It had been interesting to see what he would do.&nbsp; He had only her word that she would not suck the life out of him and leave him a broken husk ... her word, and his intellect.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had it been sex alone that she offered, he might well have fought her to the bitter end, but she offered something more - an answer to questions that he had never thought to ask, or had never had the sources from which to draw the answer.&nbsp; She had, in some ways, offered to meet him on his own ground, ceding an advantage where there was no immediate need.&nbsp; Had she not stirred his senses, that too he might have fought against more ably.<br><br>But he was drawn to her. just as she was drawn to him.&nbsp; He did not trust her, not yet, and might never bring himself to do so ... but he could not, she thought, resist her completely all the same.<br><br>Watching him move toward her fanned the flames of the hunger.&nbsp; Lips parted in anticipation, but she made no other move save to better accomodate his knees as he climbed upon the bed and positioned herself above him.&nbsp; Her arms splayed out upon the bed, palms up and fingers with their long, dark nails curled in a relaxed pose, remaining so even as he pressed her knees and thighs further apart.&nbsp; "You are a courageous man, my general."<br><br>She smiled, softly, adjusting on the bed just a bit, and almost unconscious movement that eased the angle between them without taking her eyes from his.&nbsp; She knew, very well by now, that he was a well-endowed man, and that he was certainly not one of those unfortunate souls who wilted under almost any circumstance.&nbsp; He was, she knew without the need to touch, as hard as pounded steel for her, or at least as close as mortal flesh could achieve.&nbsp; She could feel his desire, and his control of it, and though the time was long past since she had drawn more than nourishment than a plant draws from the sun, the taste of it was sweet and heady, like aged wine at the peak of its perfection.<br><br>The demoness lifted her hips, an arch of her body that but hinted at the suppleness of her figure, to ease the slide of her skirt, baring pale, soft and swollen lips, dusted with almost transparent hairs soft as down.&nbsp; Between those outer lips, as he positioned himself, he could see the delicate inner folds, their color the pinkish tinge of an orchid or other rare flower.&nbsp; Too, in the firelight, he could see the glistening sheen of the demoness' arousal, her body readying itself for him just as would any other woman.<br><br>Still she did not speak, but kept her silence, save for soft sounds of appreciation as his flesh met hers, sounds that were also part encouragement and reassurance, whether he needed either.<br><br>The first touch of his cockhead, the delicate movement so close to that of penetration, as gentle and careful as a tender lover's first introduction into the virginal tunnel of a blushing bride, prompted a parting of her lips upon an indrawn breath, as the lids of her eyes closed lazily against the sensation, and she smiled before once again opening her pale orbs to fix him with her gaze as he began to move against her.<br><br><em>"You expect ... that your question can be answered ... by a simple word, I suspect.&nbsp; If I answer yes, then surely it is a lie to trap you, to tell you what I suspect you wish to hear.&nbsp; If no, then I am a creature without soul or heart, a thing to be feared or pitied."</em><br><br>Jazelle's words did not flow from her in an effortless stream, but were punctuated instead with pauses as her breath caught and held with the soft strokes of his silken skin over hers, gliding across the slick surface with little resistance save for the soft pull and tug of the folds well-designed for just such a caress.&nbsp; Her hips kept still, but her hands did not, as fingers turned to grasp at the covers to keep her thoughts divided between their game and the pleasures he imparted with every stroke.<br><br><em>"But we have agreed upon truth between us, and even if we have not, I find myself little disposed to hurry an answer.&nbsp; Long ago, I knew nothing of love or honor or friendship.&nbsp; I knew only hunger, and the pleasure of my master's touch, and the agony of his displeasure.&nbsp; I did that which he told me I had been created to do, seducing mortals with no care or understanding that they were anything more than coin, cattle, with which I purchased favor and turned aside his wrath.&nbsp; I found pleasure in their bodies, but none in their minds, until I began to see how their words could be turned against them, even as their lusts tempted them to their doom.&nbsp; I heard their screams, and I felt nothing."</em><br><br>As she spoke, a change came over the succubus' demeanor.&nbsp; She stilled against him, and her sightless-looking eyes still saw him, but saw more as well.&nbsp; &nbsp;She took a breath, an inhalation that shuddered between her lips, but without pleasure.<br><br><em>"And then, one day, my master set me against a wizard who had vexed him.&nbsp; To me, he was just another mortal to be drained at my master's whim.&nbsp; But though this wizard heard my call, desired me, he was not mastered by his desire.&nbsp; He would not be tempted, and I would not relent, until with the dawn he trapped me within the circle of his magic and stripped away the chains with which I had been bound, and with them the powers with which I had been imbued at creation, and though I could still feel the hungers within, I was no longer their slave."</em><br><br>At some point during her telling, her body ceased to respond to his touch, with a momentary indifference as to whether he continued, though any move to retreat from her would surely strip the indifference away.<br><br><em>"Since that time, I have learned sorrow, and regret.&nbsp; I have learned of honor and respect, of loyalty that is not demanded by the cut of a whip.&nbsp; I feel, where I did not.&nbsp; Do I regret that I have not known this thing that humans say they treasure and so often cast aside for the sake of convenience, power, or pride?&nbsp; Do I believe that it exists, in the form that your priests and poets tell of it, in the form that you hold out as a shining ideal while guarding yourself against it?&nbsp; No, I think that I do not, but ... "</em><br><br>She fell silent, and her head turned toward the fire, where the flames danced in pale reflection.&nbsp; After a moment, though, she turned back to him.&nbsp; She studied his features, gazed into his eyes, as she evaluated the clues his body provided, searching for his thoughts and his reaction.<br><br><em>"But once I did not know even what it meant to dream, or that there was such a thing as freedom.&nbsp; I find myself ... curious ... and no longer certain. While I 'have not' ... I do not know that I 'can not'.&nbsp; Does my answer suffice, under terms of our arrangement, Duncan?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>19-08-2014, 03:11:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle responded as he assumed she would, cooperating to make her desired touch possible. Her hips lifted, and he definitely noted how supple her body was. He could almost imagine her back at full-arch in the throes of passion, and that thought alone almost forced him to make the plunge. Still - he was able to resist again, though he knew his resistance would not last forever. His eyes locked for a long moment on the dusting of snow-white hairs atop her mound. He bit back a moan from the sight of it - secretly, he found a woman's fur to be incredibly intoxicating, and Jazelle's was quite a beautiful and enticing sight to him. <br><br>Her comment to him was not missed - calling him a courageous man. Even those words, considering who voiced them, could be taken many ways. Was she mocking him for being so stupidly daring? So willing to mount her bed and follow her words? Was it a warning of some kind, informing him that to even contemplate what he was about to do was likely to endanger him even more in some way? Or was a it truly meant as a compliment, an acknowledgement of his boldness in dealing with her -at all-? Duncan knew what he was doing was what he -shouldn't- be doing, but he felt almost helpless to it. She was expecting him to fail, expecting him to give-in to his hormones, to fly like a moth into her flame. <br><br>And then her sex came into view, and for a moment - he was lost.<br><br>The pink of it contrasted so sweetly with the ivory of her skin, that he would dare call her a work of art. He did not voice this initial thought - she was immune to flattery - even if it was given honestly, he assumed, for countless numbers of men had enjoyed the same sight, and came under her thrall because of it. Her folds glistened with her arousal, confirming for him that this was not exactly a one-way street for him; she was obviously affected by their closeness, their talk, their proximity to one another, as well. Of course, he knew nothing of her biology - perhaps she was eternally slick, eternally prepared for penetration, given the nature of her existence. Part of his pride felt wounded by that notion, wanting to believe that her state was, in some part, a result of his efforts so far.<br><br>All said, her sex was a thing of beauty, and he found himself licking his lips not once, but twice - eager to taste her, to learn more about her in one of the most intimate ways possible. His curiosity was strong and his desire was equally as potent. Fewer and fewer excuses to resist floated through his mind, replaced by thought of her in various positions, in various states of ecstasy, his mind imagining the things she could teach him about herself...<br><br>She sucked in a breath when the tip of his manhood touched her, and his eyes devoured her every minute reaction. He worked slowly, with an incredible gentle quality that surprised most of his past partners, being a warrior so large it was always expected he would be rough and without refinement in bed. At one time - he had been - but not now. Over the years his skills had improved, and he knew the best way to touch a woman in most cases. Not all of those ways were gentle, but in his current situation, 'gentle' would allow him a longer period of keeping his own sanity.<br><br>Her eyes closed lazily at the sensations he began to deliver to her, the spongy head of his prick brushing up her slick channel, and then back down in a slow, deliberate fashion. With just one circuit of her sex, the tip of his meat was soaked, warm and slick; his mouth dry, his eyes watching her closely for every possible reaction, he had to resist his first serious temptation to ease into her. Surely with how wet she was, she -expected it-? Her body obviously -wanted- it, prepared and eager as it was... but something told him that might disappoint her - and no matter what, he didn't want that.<br><br>Duncan was a lot of things to her: a human, a mortal, a frail short-lived species that passed before her timeless gaze int he blink of an eye. But one thing he was -not- going to allow himself to be was a -disappointment-. Did she expect him to give in to his carnal desires, while secretly hoping he didn't? He wasn't sure, but he also wasn't going to find out. He would resist with every ounce of his being and play her game, her way. He would not allow her to mock him for giving-in to her so soon!<br><br>She spoke, then, which immediately drew his attention, listening to her words. Apparently his question had hit upon something that required a lengthier answer, and he was grateful for that. As she spoke more, though, her own movements slowed and eventually ceased altogether. Her words were serious, and he might dare say they came from her heart. They were effective enough that it caused her body to cease its hungry display, and in turn, he stopped his movements as well - though he did *not* pull away from her. Not yet.<br><br>After a time she grew silent as Duncan weighed all of her words, and they carried much weight with him. She could be lying - any part of this entire event could be a lie, he knew - but for now, he chose to believe her. She studied his features, which were now a mask of calm, and he studied hers in return before she finally asked him if her answers sufficed in his eyes.<br><br>He did not speak immediately in response, for like her, he felt no hurry to do any one thing. He looked down into her eyes for a long moment, and then to answer her question - he slowly lowered his face downward - and pressed his lips to hers.<br><br>Duncan was taking a risk, and he knew as much before he had even moved. He did not answer her question - at least, he didn't answer it with words. Instead, he answered her question with a kiss, his lips opening slightly, slowly, in an invitation to her to deepen the kiss if she so desired. He knew she might pull away, she might even be angered: the kiss was completely out of the rules of their arrangement: he had not declared that it was the touch he desired, nor had he allowed her to ask her question....<br><br>Or -had- he?<br><em><br>"Does my answer suffice, under terms of our arrangement, Duncan?"</em> was a question. Would she be angered if he considered that her 'question' in regards to their little game?<br><br>And for his request of a touch - would the kiss not qualify, even if he did not use words to ask for it? She was incredibly intelligent, and he knew she might draw the conclusion himself. It was part of passion, in his eyes, that some things need -not- be said aloud - and this was his own personal test to see if she would play along - or if she would be angered and force him to follow the word of their arrangement explicitly. In his eyes, there was only one way to find out.<br><br>And he so desperately wanted to taste her, regardless, and felt that the risk was worth it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-08-2014, 18:52:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In the games that she played, Jazelle was rarely less than a move or two ahead.&nbsp; There was usually little need to sacrifice an advantage to advance a long time goal.&nbsp; Why she had in this case, she wasn't completely certain, but it was done.&nbsp; <br><br>As she stared up into the general's stubbly face and dark eyes, she became conscious of the stillness between them.&nbsp; It was a strange feeling, still pleasurable, but ... strange, perhaps even intimate.&nbsp; &nbsp;Other things that she had planned with great care in readying her abode for him but had forgotten in the movements of their dance reasserted themselves, not intrusive but complementary to the moment.<br><br>The billowing drapes that softened the stone sang with the breeze, keeping an erratic time upon the sill.&nbsp; Waves crashed upon the rocks, and the wind rustled through cracks.&nbsp; She could hear the beat of Duncan's heart, still beating fast, but steady and strong, as if it might beat for an eternity without stopping.&nbsp; She could hear her own breath, and the beat of her own heart, keeping nearly perfect time with his in counterpoint.&nbsp; The pulse of their blood was intensified where their bodies intersected, for her a sweet ache that every twitch, every shift heightened as her body demanded that their journey resume.&nbsp; Still, she kept still, until his head moved toward hers in an age-old gesture of intent that could not be mistaken.<br><br>At the initial contact, she maintained that stillness for a heartbeat, and then another, and then made a soft sound that blended elements of all the things she felt at that moment - surprise, triumph, disquiet, desire.&nbsp; The latter was strongest of all, for she was what she was, and Duncan's presence acted upon her like a magnet upon steel, even as hers upon him.&nbsp; The succubus' lips parted further, softly at first, and then her hand moved with the speed of a striking snake, fingers tangling in the dark curls as she hungrily pulled his mouth down upon hers and rose to meet it, her tongue accepting the tentative invitation inside and invading as she sought out the full taste of his breath, the wetness of his saliva.<br><br>She pursued, held, the kiss without relent, until his lungs surely felt the first burn, and then let her head fall back, pulling his head away from hers by his curls, not savagely or painfully, but a reminder of who she was, what she was, and the unexplained lesson that was hers to impart.<br><br><em>"Given that we both have stretched the rules, I will trade you one final pair of questions, the first to be asked now and answered, and the last to be exchanged with the coming of the dawn, when you depart my realm for yours.&nbsp; Answer for answer, nothing more save what we choose to give, and ever mindful of loyalties owed."</em><br><br>Her eyes, eyes that should have been sightless by all laws of nature but were not, bored into his, the faint curve of her lips a smile at the last as she affirmed her word without heat for the necessity.&nbsp; She, too, knew who and what she was, what she owed.&nbsp; <em>"I will even tell you my final question to be asked with the first, so you may discern my intent at your leisure."</em><br><br>Another wager, sacrificing the advantage of time for a possibility so remote that all reason surely deemed it impossible.&nbsp; And if he refused ... well, one battle did not make a war, an observation with which the general himself was surely familiar,&nbsp; Her body was not happy with the risk, not happy at all, but as she had revealed to Duncan in her moment of candidness, she was no longer a slave to her desires ... save for when she wished to be.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-08-2014, 07:59:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The environment around them was not lost on him, nor were his senses closed off to the scents and sounds around them, gentle as they were. He could smell the salt that reminded him of the sea, he could hear the breeze - feel its cool fingers along his bare spine. He could smell -her-, and he was fairly certain that her scent was purposely meant to tantalize mortal men into being tortured by the mere thought of her. Those sensual experiences were not forgotten, they were simply less important to him than every single touch that they shared, the sense of -touch- the most poignant of them all at this time. <br><br>Their bodies remained still, each poised as if waiting for the other to make a move first. He could -feel- the softness of her sex still pressed gently against his skin. It would be such a simple matter to dip his hips a few inches lower - then thrust into her - that's how close they remained, even though neither of them moved now. He simply did not want to be the one to break -that- much. He had already pushed his luck with the kiss, and now he would wait for some sign from her that she wanted him just as badly in return.<br><br>It didn't take long for him to receive it, either.<br><br>The sound she made from their kiss was what he had hoped to hear. In his mind, he heard surprise and desire, though perhaps his own thoughts were biased since those were the things he hoped she would feel. Her lips parted softly at first - and he just as gently took advantage of that - and then suddenly her hand was in his hair, pulling his head towards hers in a vigorous fashion, hers lifting as if to press their faces to one another's. She accepted his cautiously offered tongue, and eagerly slipped hers inside his mouth. He responded in kind, their tongues writhing together in a lurid hint of how their bodies might also grind against one another in the near future. He gave as good as he got, not backing down from her despite her obvious strength, despite her nature, despite her appearance. His kiss conveyed a hunger that would match hers heartbeat for heartbeat.<br><br>The kiss continued, heatedly, his heartbeat increasing, his lungs demanding he break for air but the rest of his body demanding to press the point.... ~Ease forward! Slip into her! THAT will surely surprise her! So what if it means you cracked and surrendered to her like some love-struck teenager?~ the wicked voice in his head implored, and he ignored it, still teetering at the precipice of her womanhood, his own length aching to wet itself within.<br><br>Suddenly her head fell back, and though his lips followed the motion at first, she fell far enough back that it broke the kiss - not to mention the iron grip she had in the fistful of hair she gripped at the back of his head would not allow his lips to follow hers completely regardless. The sharp pull at the back of his scalp was not painful, really, but it did remind him where he was, who she was, and their -agreement-. Had he failed already? Had this entire ordeal simply been some sort of game-test of hers in order to weigh his willpower against her own? She spoke almost immediately, causing him to give-up his thoughts on the matter for a moment.<br><br>Then she voiced her offer: A final pair of questions. One to be asked now and answers given, and the last to be exchanged at dawn - when he was scheduled to depart. Would she keep that promise then? He hoped she would, but half-expected that she would not. She was a -demon- afterall, capable of treachery and all manner of other forms of wickedness. Then she even offered to voice her second question to him ahead of time, and that intrigued him mightily. <br><br>Of course, he did not know if dawn was only minutes away - or hours. And if it was hours away, what would they do until then, if their question, answer, and touch game was through? He knew what he -wanted- to do, but that didn't mean she wanted the same thing, though the kiss seemed to indicate he might be on the right track.<br><br>"I agree," he nodded slowly, taking a breath, trying to rein-in his wildly-beating heart. The kiss had been amazing... assertive... hungry. He had no doubt she could make a kiss feel like anything she -wanted-, but her kiss made him feel as thought she -needed- it every bit as much as he did. Or perhaps he was imagining things. "A pair of questions each, one now, one later for me to ask... but both now for you to ask," he said. "And, honest answers as we have both been so far tonight," he nodded. Something in his gut fluttered, realizing that this 'game' was coming to an end one way or another. Perhaps these two questions would allow her to determine if she kept him here for her pleasure - or not? Were her questions simple curiosities, to be pondered over later and examined? Or was she -testing- him somehow, trying to find fault or fracture in his psyche? If that's what it was, he had been brutally honest, and saw no reason not to be.<br><br>As had been the pattern so far, now that they were moving on to the next question - the touch had to end. Regretfully - and obviously reluctantly - he slowly eased his hips back, his hand still gripping the thickened base of his eager length. He did not move away completely, though - he backed away onto his haunches, still on the bed, looking down at her as he rested near her feet. No part of his body touched hers any longer. He silently waited for her questions, eyes locked on her milky-white orbs...<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>25-08-2014, 22:36:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For several heartbeats, Jazelle held her grip on the general's hair,&nbsp; her eyes on his unblinking and still as if she could see his thoughts being juggled like balls in the courtyard on feast day.&nbsp; She could not, but she could see tiny alterations in his expression, minute shifts in tightening, tiny tics that he had spent a lifetime learning to control.&nbsp; She had spent several lifetimes, however, learning to observe, and she was well-pleased with what she did discern.<br><br>Her fingers loosened,&nbsp; retreated, though not without a final soft rake with the edges of her nails, a caress now but a reminder of what they could be.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was a master at deceit, but honesty ... sometimes it took even more skill, to reveal that which might serve better concealed by the embrace of shadows.<br><br>When he pulled away, Jazelle did not protest, even by the tightening of muscles that regretted his departure before it had begun.&nbsp; He honored the game, his word, and his duty, and she would not see him dishonored in any, not so long as he wore the mantle as she thought it should be worn.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br><em>"The question I <strong>will</strong> ask before your departure, my general, is simply this:&nbsp; If, returned to the point in time where you took up the gift that now rests about your neck and granted some foretelling of all that would occur should you don it ... would you don it still?"</em><br><br>Did he, she wondered, think he already knew the answer?&nbsp; Would he even attempt to give it, sure in the certainty of self, now.&nbsp; She would be disappointed if he did, the first disappointment he had offered, but she would understand.&nbsp; In the end, it was the only question that she had asked that had directly pertained to the reason for the collar's magic, and the gift itself.&nbsp; The rest had been to prepare him to understand it, though he might well think -- another disappointment -- that mere vanity had prompted it.<br><br><em>"And my final question, delivered last in all but answer ... Will you, my general, give yourself over to me for the remainder of the night, with no collar but that of your word, for no purpose save pleasure--both yours and mine?"</em><br><br>And, of the questions she had asked, this was the most intensely personal, though it too pertained to the lesson she was tasked to impart.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were few men she had teased for more than a few minutes whose answer to such a question she had not known.&nbsp; She did not know how he would answer.&nbsp; That he wanted her, she knew.&nbsp; That what might have been, should he choose not to trust, she believed it would linger with him ... so long as she allowed.&nbsp; Perhaps she even hoped for the answer that she most wanted, an oddity in itself.<br><br>Either way, she was not done with him, not with such an intriguing man as General Duncan Vanzell, though he would find that she kept her word ... and she had learned from the best that a word is a thing to be honored if there is to be such a thing as self.&nbsp; Otherwise, there was no true freedom, for every false word was but a link in another master's chain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>01-09-2014, 09:29:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For the short few moments he had before she aired her questions, he couldn't help but feverishly wonder what they would be. If these were the last question - at least for this night - would she ask him something completely unexpected? Would she ask him to stay? Would she ask him to sate her body's hunger for attention? Or would she simply 'ask' him to leave? She did not hesitate long, though, snapping him out of his thoughts as she spoke.<br><br>The first question did not truly catch him off guard, except in that he immediately had multiple answers to the question itself. He could say 'yes' for various reasons, and he could say 'no' for the same. Something about the question made him wonder if this, too, was some sort of test. Would he pass, or fail? Would he give an answer that might stoke her inner-fires for him even more? Or would he give an answer that would deflate her enjoyment of his presence? He found himself, surprisingly, -wanting- to please and impress her. He knew it ultimately did not matter: he could not 'win' her, nor could he cause her to feel affection for him. It was a silly notion, one he mentally scolded himself for before replying carefully to her.<br><br>"You are demon, a creature of darkness, and you've readily admitted this. You apparently hold some sort of sway over my liege, and now it seems I have fallen into your grasp as well. My answer by logic should then be 'no', I would not don it. Yet... apart of me implores the exact opposite. You've provided the most excitement I have felt in a very long time, dangerous as it might be. Men like me thrive on that danger, on that rush of adrenaline, so it is no stranger to me. Yet with you... it is different. I already wonder what our next meeting might be like... and I can not help but anticipate it, even if I have not yet left from -this- meeting. So in that regard, my answer would be yes. Knowing what has happened, knowing what I have experienced, knowing that there might be much to learn about you, if I could do it over again... I would still don your device so that I might have the pleasure of your company."<br><br>He gave her a close look, hoping to gauge her reaction. Would his words please her, displease her, or have no effect whatsoever? If she used a 'question' on him to ask, he had to assume that she was truly curious, or she wouldn't have asked in the first place.<br><br>Her second question, though, made his heart nearly leap up into his throat. Would he give himself to her willingly, for no other reason than to give them both the pleasure they both apparently desired? He could feel his -own- desire, hot, heavy, aching and demanding still, especially having been so close to the plunge yet denied its warm, wet embrace. But he also had the very strong feeling that - to dip inside her would be somehow giving part of -himself- to her, and not just physically. The stories of such creatures all said the same thing: even allowing a kiss would put him under her sway, but to pleasure himself within her would make him little more than a slave.<br><br>Was the king already her slave? The king had given him the collar, the method of being in contact with her. Was she now simply working her way through the king's closest advisers and officers? Was Duncan himself just another cog in some wicked plan she had? Still, her scent, the silky texture of her skin, the way her hand had clawed in her hair... and the exotic alabaster body before him reminded him of the pleasures that awaited. What could he do? What answer could he give that would allow -some- form of enjoyment for at least one of them, yet show that he had not yet fully surrendered to her?<br><br>"Allow me to pleasure you," he found himself saying, as if his mind was talking and ignoring his own bodily needs completely. "I will gain my own pleasure in how successfully I satisfy you. Will you allow this, lady Jazelle?" he asked, raising a brow as if in challenge. "Will you allow me to retain some semblance of control - while I make you lose yours?"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>03-09-2014, 22:48:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had not asked for an answer to her final question, and indeed it was not answered for the rest of the night had not transpired yet.&nbsp; What happened between his giving of it and the morning might well change it, but it pleased her nonetheless to hear it.<br><br>"<em>You have a curious and daring nature, my general, and one that I suspect has not always served you well.&nbsp; I hope that your answer is yet the same when I put the question to you again at the cock's crow." </em>&nbsp; Tentatively, for her, she lifted a hand to stroke along the side of his face with the back of her fingers before letting them fall to the bed as she pushed herself up onto her elbows, eyes blank without pupils but nonetheless conveying the impression of intense scrutiny as he analyzed her second question and wrestled with caution and temptation.<br><br>Though she appeared, on the surface, almost indolent in body, her own was far from quiescent.&nbsp; Had she been younger, less disciplined, she would not have waited for an answer at all.&nbsp; Instead, he would have been borne to the bed and taken, his reluctance assaulted until it broke asunder beneath the assault of lips and fingers, teeth and tongue. Part of her longed for that sheer, breathless moment of freedom, that plunge from heights so great as to be nearly beyond the grasp of imagination, but she had first learned the lesson that she strove to impart.&nbsp; Without the will, it would be empty, and she would rather have nothing from him than emptiness.<br><br>The irony did not escape her notice, even as her body demanded her acceptance of his counter-offer.&nbsp; Her eyes closed, and she drew in a long, faintly ragged, deep breath as she exerted mastery over her own body, her own hungers.&nbsp; She shook her head in a regretful negation.&nbsp; <em>"Agreements and loyalties, Duncan.&nbsp; They are little different than the collar which you now wear, though the punishments and rewards wear another disguise.&nbsp; This question, this night, demands either 'yes' or 'no'."<br></em><br>Did he understand?&nbsp; Could he?&nbsp; She thought that he certainly had the capacity for understanding, for revelation.&nbsp; Perhaps the most insidious chains ever donned were the ones of convenience and familiarity, but could she judge?&nbsp; Truly? Or was it only that he drew her in ways she had rarely experienced?&nbsp; <br><br>His answer, she felt certain, would be no.&nbsp; Her body decried that certainty, as did part of her mind.&nbsp; But all the same, she had set him on the trail.&nbsp; She would only be truly disappointed if he did not pursue the scent.&nbsp; &nbsp;How many battles, at least amongst closely matched adversaries, were won or lost in an opening skirmish.&nbsp; Few, she suspected, and how dull war would be if that were the case.<br><br><em>"You need not give your answer yet.&nbsp; Two questions are yet yours to ask, if you wish, since those which you asked were more foils to my question than questions of your own."</em><br><br>She granted the delay almost casually, amused despite herself that she had offered it with some faint hope that he might answer other than she expected.&nbsp; Had she so painfully learned patience only to cast it aside at the first obstacle?<br><br>All the same, she held herself still.&nbsp; She had already won over his body; she would not leave him wounded in spirit even for the sake of a few hours pleasure.&nbsp; &nbsp;To do so would be to don the chains of a most cruel master, and one she had known of old.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>08-09-2014, 07:46:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Jazelle's observation concerning Duncan's 'curious and daring nature' were similar words to those uttered about him for several years now. Even his own liege had used those words almost exactly in conversation with him before. Duncan remembered his earlier years as the King's general - his boldness often -terrified- the King, to the point where the King had actually considered replacing Duncan at one point, despite the friendship and respect they held for each other. Thankfully for the King, his highness had found a small reserve of patience and exercised it, and the dividends had been paying off ever since.<br><br>Coming from Jazelle's mouth, though, Duncan hoped the words were meant as a compliment and not an expression of disappointment. Something told him that if Jazelle was disappointed, it would be far more obvious. <br><br>After he voiced his offer, silently hoping for many reasons that she might accept, he almost held his breath awaiting her answer. Her body's response seemed to indicate that she would indeed accept his offer, but her words denied him. In addition, she declared the intent of her question - she had been seeking a yes or no answer, and he had not given it to her, instead creating an answer of his own making. <br><br>Yes or no. It seemed such an easy, simple question with such easy, simple possible answers. In fact, it seemed -so- simple, that it *felt* like a trap. The General within him could usually sniff out a trap well before it snapped shut around him, but in this case, his mind was bouncing back and forth between possibilities. How could it possibly be so? So far, they had engaged in pleasant, polite conversation. She was intelligent, witty, and carried an air of mystery about her - for very obvious reasons. His curiosity about her and her nature was already deep, but part of his instinct was telling him that the more he learned about her, the more likely his soul would be damned for eternity. Likely, she'd collect it somehow and toss it into the endless cauldron with all the -other- souls she had collected through the ages, to be pulled out and tortured whenever the mood struck her.<br><br>As if offering him some length of rope, she assured him that he need not give his answer yet. Could she see how he struggled with it? Or did those milky-white eyes already *know* his answer, and she was merely toying with him at this point? <br><br>Duncan nodded in understanding. He would wait, then, and give his answer in the morning. It was as if she were hinting that -something- might happen between now and then that might change the answer he had already given. It would not hurt, then, to wait and see and give her his answer anew, based on what transpired between now and then. This sent a streak of nervousness down his spine that lasted a single breath. What -could- she do between now and the cock's crow that might see him change his answer? What -would- she do?<br><br>"Two questions I have, then," he nodded again. "One I shall ask now... and the other, I shall also wait until morning to ask after I have given you my other answer," he said. He looked down at her face, his voice steady and even as he took a breath and spoke again.<br><br>"My question, then - is rephrased as such: Would you allow me the pleasure of tasting you? Here, now, until such a time that you can bear it no more?" he asked. Yes, it was a twist upon his earlier offer, but upon voicing it as a question he realized it wasn't simply an offer so as to keep his own pleasure at bay - he realized he desperately -did- want to taste her, his own curiosity mingling harshly with his hope to pleasure her, as well. Did he have hope that he might surprise her in some way? No, not really, not for a creature such as herself. But even so, he was a stubborn man in many regards, and he aimed to pleasure her as best as his mortal frame would allow, no matter the outcome. <br><br>He hovered above and in front of her waiting her reply, wondering if she might refuse again. He already knew what his second question was going to be, but he felt no need to ask it now - and just as she had offered him the chance to give his answer to one of her questions at a later time in case he wished to change his mind, so, too, might he change his second question to her, if the need arose.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-09-2014, 04:04:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				When she was yet chained, she had known temptation only as a tool.&nbsp; What she wanted, she took if she could, and when she knew failure it had mattered more because of the punishment to be endured.&nbsp; Success in the tasks she was given was the only true mark of reward.&nbsp; The pleasures of the body were incidental, and due more in her mind to her own efforts than any talent of the mortal taken as her lover.<br><br>With freedom had come enlightenment, and her pride in her abilities had been torn down and painfully rebuilt.&nbsp; She had learned what it meant to be tempted,&nbsp; what it meant to rise above it and to embrace it -- though she had existed for long enough that few things truly roused her to temptation.<br><br>Duncan, and his request in the form of a question, was temptation in its purest form.&nbsp; She needed no prescience to see how his dark curls would look betwixt her pale thighs, no magic to know that he would undertake his self-appointed task as if waging a war before it could begin.&nbsp; She wanted that touch; she wanted him.<br><br>And yet, should she accept, she would not have him, and a few moments of pleasure ... intense pleasure, certainly ... would damage her word and thereby a trust that she valued.&nbsp; Pleasure was fleeting and easily spoiled.&nbsp; Trust was harder won, at least for a creature that had risen from the flames of the abyss.<br><br>Jazelle raised her hand, fingers curled inward, and brushed her knuckles lightly along the stubbled cheek of the General.&nbsp; For the first time since he had requested it, the succubus regretted her form.&nbsp; It did not convey regret, but perhaps it was just as well since he would likely consider its manifestation part of the illusion.<br><br><em>"I would have you, Duncan, body and mind, and with a degree of pleasure rarely experienced, a treasure ... but this night, unless you are willing to set aside your reservations until the dawn, so too my answer must be 'no'.&nbsp; I regret that it is so ... yet if there is to be honesty between us, I believe that my answer would be 'no' even if I were not obligated to a game not entirely my own."</em><br><br>Her fingers uncurled, slid, to cup his cheek and run the ball of her thumb over his bottom lip. <em> "A taste would not be enough, not for me, and I would be disappointed if it were for you."</em><br><br>Even so, she did not move away.&nbsp; The heat from his body, so near to hers, was sweet, and the feel of his breath on her skin almost a kiss.&nbsp; She was tempted, and yet she did not fear temptation so greatly as to remove herself from it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-09-2014, 12:41:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Jazelle's answer was definitely not what he had expected to hear. She was a demon of pleasure, or so the stories went. This was what they -did-, yet here she was, -denying- him... Part of him wondered if he should feel offended? Had he failed to meet some standard, some minimum level of enticement that she demanded of any potential lover? He did not know, and her ways still sometimes felt alien to him. Perhaps she was testing him, waiting to see what he would do in response to rejection. The sting of it was even more bitter given that he did not often make such 'offers' as he had done for her. In fact, he couldn't remember a single one: usually he simply took what he wanted in bed, did what he liked, and a side-effect of the efforts used to pleasure himself, usually he pleasured his partner in the process - often quite by accident.<br><br>But not Jazelle. He had nearly thrown himself at her feet, eager to please her, eager to taste her milky-white skin. His curiosity what she would feel like, as well as his on self-challenge to give her something no other mortal ever had, had built him up rather efficiently.<br><br>Yet her answer had been 'no'.<br><br>He shook his head in response to her words. "No... a taste would most certainly not be enough," he admitted, his voice sounding... deflated. He knew if he got started on her - he would go for hours, nursing his own release as long as he could, giving her release in various ways to keep her focused and pleasured. Most women would want that. Most women would crave that.<br><br>But not her.<br><br>He was tempted to ask her -why-, but that would indicate that he cared about the subject more than he wanted her to know. She'd likely assume it was wounded pride that made him ask regardless, when that was but a small part of the sting to his ego. Perhaps she truly wasn't interested in him - at least physically, despite her own words. Or perhaps she had another 'appointment' with someone else, and could not expend the time it would take for the two of them to fully sate themselves here and now.<br><br>Thinking over her words, they were curious how she spoke them, as if she wasn't entirely in control of the happenings of the evening. That intrigued him.<br><br>"Alright, then," he said calmly - slowly pulling away from her. "I suppose you will send me away, now," he said, and in saying the words aloud, he felt both relief... and regret. She was -fascinating-, and he did not wish to leave her. Yet she was -not human-, and possessed unknown powers that could be used for any number of dark, vile acts. He slowly removed himself from the bed, his feet back on the ground, and casually strode over to where his linen breeches lay on the floor. He didn't hurry, and he wasn't shy, but he had the distinct feeling that she was 'done' with him for some reason, at least for tonight.<br><br>"Do you think... I shall see you again?" he asked, suddenly wondering if they were still playing the game they had been playing for most of the evening.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-09-2014, 22:25:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>There was some satisfaction in his agreement that half measures would not do, even if it came upon the back of a refusal.&nbsp; The demoness watched him through eyes that, for all natural processes, should surely be blind, but had seen far more than her kind had ever been intended.<br><br>She did not protest as he pulled away and strode toward his breeches.&nbsp; For all intents and purposes, the game was at an end, and such pettiness as would punish him for not asking her leave was no longer within her.&nbsp; For that, she could only feel a measure of gratitude, and perhaps relief as well.&nbsp; There were few emotions more tiresome than pettiness.<br><br>Her form, her true form, melted away as she exerted her will, returning her to the blonde vision of loveliness that she had been when he had been drawn into her domain.&nbsp; She reached down, and called to herself a diaphanous robe and drew it around her, though she did not bother to pull it closed.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"No, my sweet, I fear that the only way I could expel you from my boudoir before the dawn would be to hurl you from a window ..." </em> She paused just long enough to let him make of that what he would ... <em>"but that would be far too great a waste, in addition to breaking my promise.&nbsp; Besides ... you still owe me an answer upon leaving.&nbsp; And my answer owed is, yes, assuredly so."<br></em><br>She, too, rose from the bed and followed him across the room, until she stood close enough for the fabric of her robe to brush against his nakedness like a caress. <em> "You may sleep, unmolested in body or mind, in the bed until then, if you wish it."</em><br><br>The succubus was disappointed, but not terribly so.&nbsp; She had made some inroads to her task, and she no longer served a cruel master who demanded nothing less than the result he had ordered.&nbsp; In truth, come the morning, she would be free of her onus, if not the bonds of ... gratitude.&nbsp; Yes, that was the word, gratitude.&nbsp; She was not, however, ready to admit defeat.<br><br>She fixed Duncan with a very human gaze, her eyes now as blue-gray as the sea and flecked with silver, and smiled at him before turning to make her way back to the fireplace, snagging something from a nearby table as she went.&nbsp; On the rug in front of the blaze, she folded herself gracefully down, the robe draping almost -- but not quite -- modestly over her golden-fleshed attributes as she began shuffling a deck of cards in supple fingers, then laying them out in a classic solitaire pattern.<br><br><em>"Unless you prefer a game of Piquet?"</em>&nbsp; The game was a popular game at court, often played by nobles in a quasi-acceptable form of flirtation marked by dares and forfeits.&nbsp; She paused and lifted her head to him, eyebrows raised as she splayed the cards in her hand like a fan.<br><br>Her arousal had not diminished, but she had learned patience.&nbsp; In all things, she would rather cede a battle than lose a war ... and this had been little more than an opening skirmish.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>28-09-2014, 13:47:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan felt a bit more disappointment when Jazelled hid her true form from him. It was different, exotic, and singled her out quite easily from all the other women he had ever met in his life. Not that her 'human form' was plain or average by any means, because it wasn't. But Duncan had this 'thing' about a person being who they were - and illusions and false faces were not among his favorite things. Still, this was her home, her house, her rules. If she wanted to assume the image of a rock or a monkey, she should be able to do that without the possibility of his disappointment. Still, he couldn't help feeling what he felt.<br><br>Her comment about tossing him from a window was interesting, to say the least. Apparently then there was some sort of enchantment or agreement at the very least that kept him confined to her quarters. "I will do my best not to warrant expulsion, then, knowing that my only exit would be through a window," he said, smiling wryly in her direction.<br><br>She rose, then, and approached him across the room. She paused next to him, close enough so that he could easily feel the brush of her robe against his flesh. She offered him a place to sleep undisturbed, in the bed in fact, and somehow he believed she was being truthful. Slowly he shook his head. "I will only do that - if you are in the bed beside me," he said rather boldly. If she had truly given him the choice, then he had chosen, and his choice should hopefully not get him into trouble - despite how daring he had decided to answer at the last moment.<br><br>Then she was gone, turned on her heel and headed back across to the fireplace. As she did, she picked-up something from a table along her path, and sat down in front of the fireplace upon the ornate rug that lay there. Her robe hugged her body in places, teasing at the curves she had adopted as part of this ''image' she had displayed now. She began shuffling the cards, preparing to play one of the various forms of solitaire, Duncan imagined, and his suspicion bore out as he watched her set-up the cards to do just that.<br><br>She piped up again, asking if he preferred a game of Piquet. He nodded of course. "I'll be happy to join you, and would enjoy such a thing," he said with a nod as he, too, moved across toward her, taking a seat across from wherever she sat. "I will confess, though - I have not played Piquet in many years. Like her, Duncan knew that the game was indeed played quite regularly in court, and had nuances and meanings all of its own. Some nobles took the game rather seriously. "So I hope you will... go easy on me, at first," he said, a faint smile cracking his lips as he took his position on the rug and made himself comfortable.<br><br>"Perhaps after a warm-up, you might even be willing to play for stakes," he said, his voice obviously playful in suggesting such a challenge. He had no idea if she actually 'gambled' at all, but it felt like the right thing to ask and suggest, since they would be playing cards.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-09-2014, 19:17:20</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"The next time," </em>she said idly, giving Duncan a look from beneath her lashes that did much to reveal that while her outward appearance was one of nonchalance, she still smoldered, <em>"that we find ourselves in the same bed, my general, you will not leave it until your desires are spent beyond all my efforts to arouse."</em><br><br>If she noticed his reaction to her change, she made no mention of it.&nbsp; Very few things, when it came to matters such as her desirability to one for whom she felt desire, escaped her attention unless she was distracted.&nbsp; She had noticed, and found that it pleased her -- but to her it was a fair exchange.&nbsp; His pants, and the donning of them, were little different, a mask over vulnerability and intent, a thing kept hidden for this thing they called modesty.&nbsp; Humans were good at verbal slights of hand, as were her sisters, but she would not quibble over who taught whom.<br><br><em>"I find cards a useful diversion.&nbsp; Solitaire, to calm the thoughts and counsel patience; Piquet to remind me that my kind and yours share a particular enjoyment of subtle victories, of turning ill luck to our favor by layering our games so that even the most skillful do not always know who is currently winning on all levels."</em><br><br><em>"Be careful what you offer, Duncan.&nbsp; I always play for stakes, and rarely do I succumb to the lure of double or nothing." </em> While her voice was casual, as playful as his, she was smiling inside.&nbsp; He had, just as she had hoped, taken the bait ... and even helpfully suggested that they consider playing for more than the simple satisfaction of winning.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Sleep would be a much safer alternative, though any stake between us won or lost would be claimed after the cock has crowed."</em><br><br>She could win even by losing, for the general's mind was keen, even if stubborn.&nbsp; Lessons that were taken in at once were often forgotten, but those that sank in little by little over the fullness of time were the strongest.&nbsp; <br><br>And even if he reconsidered now, the temptation would remain, particularly if she were able to dispel some of the inherent distrust over what she was, what she had been.<br><br>Though her onus would be complete with the dawn, her interest had been fully engaged.&nbsp; Respect deserved better, as did the general himself.&nbsp; &nbsp;Such men were far more uncommon than common vanity would suggest, and those who did not bend or break for their own convenience rarer still.&nbsp; &nbsp;Souls were poor fare, and why would any wish to be weighted down by the sins of another and burdened by their regrets?&nbsp; The true treasure was to live, even for a brief mortal span, in the mind of such a one&nbsp; ... and better still when the delight was shared by flesh as well as spirit.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>02-11-2014, 21:45:42</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan couldn't help himself but to chuckle at her words. It wasn't a mocking laugh, nor was it meant to be insulting. It was a gentle show of mirth, something that he knew he rarely experienced the older the got. "Dear Jazelle... it is impossible for me to reach such a state that my desires are spent... I -am- a male after all," he replied in a gently teasing tone. He definitely didn't want to anger her, and he had no idea if she would be adverse to teasing or not. He figured with most people, as long as you weren't trying to be mean about it, good-natured fun was acceptable. But she most certainly was not 'most people', and for all he knew, the slightest tease might set her eyes aflame and cause her to lash out violently.<br><br>At her warning of playing against her, he raised a brow. It was just a -game-, of course, not the heat of life-and-death combat on a battlefield. A game without stakes was simply a pastime to him, something to distract for a short while, an amusement and nothing more. Adding stakes would make the game -worth- something far more, and would certainly add weight to its outcome. He wasn't a gambler, usually - the gambling halls back home were arranged so as to give the house an edge - that was, after all, how they remained in business. But in a game of piquet or some other similar fashion, though luck was involved the results were usually owed to shrewd skill and intelligence. So far, Duncan had perceived Jazelle to be incredibly intelligent, but that of course could be a facade. Now, he would truly get to see her mind in motion, so to speak, and if she was every bit as intelligent as he suspected, his admiration for her would simply grow even more. <br><br>"Sleep? There will be time enough for sleep when I die," he said, making himself comfortable. "As for wagers and the dangers they offer, my life - short as it has been compared to yours - has been filled with such things to the point where 'risk' is like a lover to me. Warm, enticing, thrilling... unpredictable. It is merely another form of aphrodisiac, my dear Jazelle. And since you are loathe to give in to both of our desires, -this- will have to suffice," he said. There was a confidence in his voice - though not true arrogance. He knew the risks, knew that she wasn't stupid, and he wasn't blind to the possibility of losing. After all, if there was no possibility of loss, of defeat, then what would be the point?<br><br>And in his mind, strange as it was, he had similar thoughts to her own at that moment. Even if he lost, he might 'win'. If the game was enjoyable, if she provided a challenge or, gods forbid, she mastered him, then that would have made the game well worth the effort. Some back home, the cowardly or weak of heart, would -prefer- an opponent they knew they would defeat. Duncan was not made that way. He preferred a challenge, whether it was on the battlefield, the gambling table... or in bed. Easy victories were the ones least savored, and least remembered, in his eyes. <br><br>Duncan patiently awaited the deal of the cards, then. He asked her a few short, simple questions to ensure that they were playing by the same rules. He was curious about the cards she used, idly wondering how old they were, where they came from, if she had possessed them for a long time, though he knew his curiosity would be sated in a few moments as he waited for her to deal his twelve cards to him. He felt eager for the game, though in truth the two of them had been playing 'games' of the verbal kind throughout the evening. <br><br>"Shall we warm-up, then? Or should we lay stakes here and now, before either of us has an idea of the skill the other possesses?" he spoke. A warm-up hand would be like sending scouts out against your foe, to test defenses and reactions. Going directly into the fray - wagers laid and bets made - would be far more thrilling... and dangerous for them both. For all he knew, she might be a novice at the game, but given her suspected age, he seriously doubted that. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>08-11-2014, 04:22:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"Would you care to lay wager upon that as well, Duncan?"&nbsp; </em>Jazelle met his gaze with a smile of her own, and a look that smouldered all the more for her eyes now appearing human, lending expression to her face.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no anger in her voice or her demeanor, merely amusement, challenge, tinged with hunger as her eyes swept down his regretfully clad body.&nbsp; <br><br>Jazelle held the cards with practiced ease, bending them to the shape of her long, slender fingers as if she had done it a thousand times or more.&nbsp; Quickly, she pruned the deck of unnecessary cards and then shuffled, confirming the rules without hesitation.&nbsp; Of all the games that humans played, she liked the games with these pressed pieces of parchment the best.&nbsp; It was an incredibly intimate game, though most people seemed unaware of it.&nbsp; The cards could be wielded like a fan, concealing expression or revealing was was desirous to see, and the proximity of the small tables necessitated by the exchange offered so many opportunities for mischief of all kinds.<br><br>Once they had been mixed, she lay them out for Duncan's cut, smiling with appreciation at his movements, the sheer artistry of his body and the confidence he exuded, even though his body surely had not reconciled his earlier arousal.&nbsp; Such a lovely grasp of civilization, like a beast from the jungle or the mountains that only waited for its curiosity to be sated before springing.&nbsp; Jazelle shivered delightfully, her lips parting in an anticipatory grin, revealing the tips of white, rounded teeth.<br><br>She dealt the cards, her hands in view at all times, as if even a human skilled with his fingers could not manipulate the cards in front of an audience.&nbsp; She had several tricks of her own that she felt no shame over employing ... but this time, she did not attempt to influence the outcome.&nbsp; Let skill and fate determine the outcome.<br><em><br>"I am not cold, my sweet.&nbsp; How could I be, with the recent memory of your body pressed to mine?&nbsp; If you feel the chill, of course, I would be a poor hostess if I did not remedy the condition."</em><br><br>Once each card was laid out in a straight, even spread in front of them both, she put the remainder of the deck down between them.&nbsp; <em>"You may chose which hand you would play." <br></em><br>The succubus' eyes widened, eyebrows lifting, inviting him to guess whether or not she had cheated in the deal, and communicating no assurances.<br><br><em>"You may even choose who wagers first, if you like.&nbsp; &nbsp;I seem to be in a generous mood."</em><br><br>A part of her would rather he had accepted the bargain for the remainder of the night.&nbsp; &nbsp;His kiss, his touch, had awakened a hunger that cards, even the excitement of a new game, a challenging opponent, could not fully distract.&nbsp; Yet she had time, and patience, and whatever the outcome of this night, she was not done with her darling general.&nbsp; She had but barely begun.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>09-11-2014, 14:30:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan smiled widely at her question, as if she were challenging him to take a wager straight off the cuff. The way she looked at him then and there, especially with human eyes and intent, told him that her desire for him was likely every bit as deep as his physical desire for her. He didn't need to remind himself that what he was was an illusion – she was no more human than a book or a piece of furniture, she only managed to look that way through her tricks of magic. So, too, could her very demeanor be false, another illusion meant to stir his loins – something that she did rather easily, much to his dismay.<br><br>He took her would-be challenge as playful jesting before the match to come, though he appreciated the amusement in her voice as well as the hunger in her eyes. He returned the favor, though to himself he silently desired her -true- form more and more. It was a strange feeling, even though her human appearance was enticing and would leave most men with a full barrel of lead in their breeches after gazing upon her, but Duncan had seen her true form, the -real- her (or so he believed), and that form intrigued him far more than her human form did.<br><br>His eyes lowered to her hands, to watch how she handled the cards. Her slender fingers were quite dextrous, conveying a sense of strength and gentleness both. She prepared the deck for play, and he watched intently. He didn't suspect she would cheat, but Duncan also did not believe she was totally incapable of it. <br><br>She then laid the cards out for his cut, and he reached a hand casually over to the deck to do just that. She smiled again, something almost predatory, and he continued to watch her, his eyes moving back up to her face, wishing not for the first time that he had the ability to read her thoughts.<br><br>Cards were dealt with a fluid grace that also conveyed a certain measure of skill to him. It told him that she did, indeed, know what she was doing, and that he was likely in for a true challenge, whether it was just a game or not. <br><br>“The only chill I feel is similar to what you describe – having your body pressed against me, but now absent of that feeling, does give me a chill,” he admitted, and in response to her offer of choosing the hand to play – he picked the one nearest him, as if silently responding that he trusted her by choosing the cards that would have been given to him if she had not made the offer at all.<br><br>“Ladies first, of course... in most things,” he said, giving her a suggestive smile as he sorted his cards, appreciating the material they were made of, wondering just how many men had used them like this before him – if the number was anywhere that of the number of men that had used -her-. “Let us hear your wager, and I will counter with my own, of course. And if I have not already thanked you for your generous mood – then I thank you now,” he added, slowly bowing his head respectfully towards her.<br><br>Already, the prospect of what was to come, of the game, of the challenge, was making him ache anew, as he had been for most of the evening. He stopped trying to resist it now, and simply accepted it. She was a being of passion, and it was simply expected that he feel such things in her presence.<br><br>Duncan could think of many far less enjoyable fates.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 00:22:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>The emotions that Jazelle could sense coming off the general's ... her general's ... aura were interesting.&nbsp; The desire had not faded, but it had developed layers and depth that made it all the more tantalizing.&nbsp; Even though he had refused her, for the nonce, she thought of him as 'hers', perhaps in a way that she would not have had he succumbed to his desires more readily.<br><br>She only watched as he picked his cards, enjoying the demonstration of trust.&nbsp; He did not fully trust her, she knew, but he had taken strides in that direction.&nbsp; Perhaps this was better, even, than the completion of her onus as stated, and inclined her head graciously at his thanks.<br><em><br>"This, then, is my wager.&nbsp; Should I win, you will retain the collar - not as it presently is, but as ... a remembrance.&nbsp; And should you find yourself curious as to what might have transpired between us had you accepted my proposal, you will have but to hold it and think of me.&nbsp; I will come to you and satisfy your curiosity, my sweet, with no magic to compel you save that of your choice."</em><br><br>She let that lie there for a moment as she gathered her cards and pulled them to her, but did not glance at their faces.<br><br><em>"Have you a counter?&nbsp; Or perhaps you would prefer instead to take your ease in bed and wait for the dawn to free you from my clutches?"</em><br><br>In truth, the collar would have no magic at all after this night.&nbsp; So long as she desired him, she would know whenever he thought of her with desire, for such was the gift of her bloodline.&nbsp; And, at the moment, she could think of little that would keep her away from ordinary desire.&nbsp; To have him surrender to her, with both trust and desire, for the space of a night ... she rather thought she would cross the abyss for that experience.<br><br>Or at least the upper levels of it.&nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 05:01:15</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan's eyes rose from the cards upward to meet hers when she spoke. She already knew what she would wager – and somehow that did not surprise the general at all. Assertive, strong-willed women often knew that they wanted, immediately, without having to spend all day deciding. He liked that about her – very much so. This wasn't a case of standing around waiting for her to decide what color undergarments she would wear, or which pair of shoes to purchase. Jazelle spoke confidently, knowing precisely what she wanted.<br><br>She wagered that, if she won, he would agree to keep the collar as a keepsake, and nothing more. And then if he should find his curiosity growing to the point where he had to know what he might have missed out on, he need but think of her and she would come to him to -show- him. <br><br>She wanted to put temptation in his hands. He knew he could always just toss it in a box and hide it away, out of sight, and forget it existed if he wished. But he also knew that part of him, however small, would always wonder... and having the collar in his possession would always remind him of that temptation. It would last his entire life, he was sure, until he either died with that desire still in his mind, or having given in at some point along the way.<br><br>She was far more cunning than he had given her credit for.<br><br>“That sounds reasonable,” he replied smoothly, his eyes staying fixed on hers. “And yes, I have a counter, of course.”<br><br>And then, just as smoothly as she had presented her wager, he began to recite his own.<br><br>“In return... should I win, you will give me your absolute word that you will have no man in your bed, in your arms, or between your thighs – until I have passed into the next life,” he said, his voice strong, yet gentle, bold and straightforward. “Surely a mortal man's life is but an eyeblink to someone as you, so in truth – I am likely not asking much of you. Perhaps a few decades if I am fortunate. But if I win, from the moment the game is concluded, you shall not enjoy the pleasures of another man... unless that man is -me-.”<br><br>Duncan was sure that she would refuse – and that was part of -his- game. They'd been playing this game together since he arrived, and he would enjoy it and play it further until its conclusion. Of course, it was not part of the rules for him to tell her -why- he would make such a wager, but perhaps she'd learn that sometime in the future – if it mattered. For now, he was content with posing his wager to her, and sitting back to see how she would respond. Likely she'd ask him to consider another, and if that was the case he would.<br><br>But if she accepted and he won... could he trust her -word-? No. Of course not. She was a demon. Much of what she had already said to him tonight was likely some variation of a truth or untruth.... or was it? He wanted to trust her, wanted to learn more about her, but trust was something hard-earned in his eyes, and she had the misfortune of being a demon. There was only -one- way that he might truly trust her, and he did not think she was likely capable of meeting that condition.<br><br>“Or... would -you- prefer to retreat to the safety of your bed until dawn, free from -my- clutches?” he asked, a brow raised, a playful half-smile on his lips. Thoughts of winning, thoughts of having this creature to himself for the remainder of his days... even if she refused him in bed this night, how long would she be able to go without that which was in her very nature? A week? A month? The thought of a positively hungry, aroused, insatiable Jazelled coming to him to fulfill a need – and him being the only man to be able to give it to her – thrilled him unlike anything he had felt in a very, very long time...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 13:57:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>Watching him process her challenge was enjoyable in and of itself.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unlike many men, he did not simply think of the moment, but of the years piling upon themselves.&nbsp; He was cognizant of the ripple effect, the stone cast into the pool ... she could so clearly see how he had risen to his position of authority and counsel.&nbsp; She could also see why the mage wished to make him an ally, far more so than even the king himself.<br><br>The short term future was interesting indeed, and full of so many exciting possibilities.&nbsp; Boredom hardly seemed possible, at least for the next decade or more, though in truth the succubus was rarely bored for long even so.<br><br>He did not hesitate any longer in accepting the wager than it took to consider the possibilities, and perhaps devise his own.&nbsp; She was expecting something of note, something that would have implications far beyond a few short moments, a few short days or months ... but his audacity took her breath away, or would have if she needed to breathe in the way that mortals did.&nbsp; <em>"Bravo," </em>she whispered softly, her lips curling into an appreciative smile, delight reflected in her eyes, a true appreciation for his cleverness.&nbsp; He had thought to give her a wager she would refuse, and one that she rightly should refuse.<br><br>Had he purposely, she wondered, worded it so that there was an escape clause, of sorts, that perhaps made it possible without consequences she did not wish to endure?&nbsp; Or had he simply not broadened his consideration of the ripples far enough.&nbsp; Or was it a test of the sincerity of her regard?<br><br>Lovely.&nbsp; A game with high stakes indeed, for the both of them.&nbsp; Higher, perhaps, than he realized.<br><br><em>"But I wonder if you have truly considered the ripples from this stone cast, my general.&nbsp; &nbsp;Such a bargain cast would bind me to you, and you to me - the time would come, quickly, when refusing me would not be an option.&nbsp; I already hunger for you, Duncan.&nbsp; In a week, perhaps a month, my control of that hunger would be stretched beyond my capacity to reason if not sated, to refrain from doing you harm or from harming any that might seek to keep me from sating that hunger.&nbsp; No prayer, no magic, would stay me long after such a binding.&nbsp; And you WOULD hunger for me just as strongly, for I would bend my will entire to it."<br></em><br>The wording of his wager could be used to mitigate that need somewhat as necessary, and ... oh ... the possibilities were fascinating, promising years of challenge, a game of chess that would last half a lifetime or perhaps more.<br><br>Tempting a succubus, a master of temptation, was no small feat, but he had done it.&nbsp; A formidable opponent ... an invaluable ally ... a lover beyond compare ... and a man with a mind perhaps as devious as her own, and hungers as great.&nbsp; The creator of the collar, the mage, a man who had earned her respect and as much of friendship as one such as she was capable, would not be pleased, but he would ... perhaps ... assist, should she play and lose.<br><br><em>"Is this truly what you would have, my general?&nbsp; &nbsp;If so, then take up your hand and let us play."</em><br><br>The greater the risk, the greater the thrill ... and such thrill as he had already provided did not present themselves often, even in the long existence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 16:07:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Likewise, watching -her- process his counter-wager was truly entertaining as well. No, she wasn't human (not really), and her mannerisms might be slightly different than his people who lived beneath his liege's rule, but most of her mannerisms seemed to be similar to those of his kind, and he had definitely detected a hint of intrigue in her body language. Her softly whispered, 'Bravo', confirmed his suspicions, and he had to admit to himself that he felt a small bit of pride in that, as if he had surprised her. Perhaps he had a bit of pride as one in his position usually did, but he definitely did not -want- to appear to her to be like any one of the countless mortals who had come before him. He was beyond that, in his mind, and if he could leave a lasting impression on her - just as he so deeply desired to leave a lasting impression on the people of his liege's kingdom - then he would do so if it was within his power.<br><br>She spoke again, wondering if he had truly considered the ripples in his request. Of course he had, and that had been what had made the wager so easy to contrive. A normal man would have likely wagered something... simple. A night with her, to be pleasured by her in any number of humiliating ways, wealth, power... Duncan desired such things as any man did, but not so much that his desires would blind him to reason and intelligence. He had also wanted to choose something that would be a -challenge- for her, and would make her want to play to the best of her ability. He simply couldn't fathom how forcing her to be celibate to one man - him - would affect her... or if it would affect her at all. All he knew was that amongst his own people, such a promise was very, very difficult to maintain, often impossible - and that was for a mortal who lived less than a century. <br><br>Jazelle was no mortal, so perhaps the limitation she agreed to accept (should she lose) was easier than he thought - or perhaps it might be quite the opposite.<br><br>Her words sent a chill down his spine. For all she said, her actions seemed to indicate that she was not all -that- interested in him. Was her patience so infinite that she could so easily maintain self-control? Duncan had always believed men were the more passionate of genders, or at least, the gender -least- able to conceal and control it. Men generally forced themselves upon women, not the other way around. Men generally pursued women. Jazelle so far had demonstrated a very level countenance and demeanor, one that seemed to give the impression that she was not -overly- aroused... yet her words just now seemed to indicate differently.<br><br><em>-I already hunger for you, Duncan...-</em>&nbsp; Even just those words sent throbs of aching delight down his length anew, which had not let up since he had briefly lain with her. Rather by natural skill, or by enchantment or even a mix of both, just her voice was enough to stroke him in so many delightful ways... <br><br>She asked if he was sure that was what he wished, and he answered her with a smile... and by collecting up his cards again, and lowering his eyes to sort through them.<br><br>"It is," he confirmed finally. "The prospect of you hungering for me for -any- length of time... is incredibly thrilling to me, unlike any thrill I've experienced in quite some time," he said as he sorted his cards in his hands. "I wonder, if you came to me and asked for pleasure... if I were to deny you? I wonder how long you could go before you broke your word to me? I wonder how made it would drive you to try to prove to me that you were your own best master, instead of being mastered by the words of a mere mortal? Though I must thank you for the admission of your... hunger. It is comforting for me to know that the feeling is mutual."<br><br>He was teasing her now, which he felt was fair play since she had been teasing him ever since he laid eyes upon her.<br><br>"At the very least, I know that I will get your best ability during the game," he said, nodding towards the cards in their respective hands. "I can only imagine how much such a wager might make you nervous." His sly grin would tell her that he was enjoying this, the banter as well as the game itself. And Duncan himself could not believe how -exciting- this was, making all the women of the king's court look boring and dull by way of comparison. <br><br>Duncan took two of his cards and laid them face down on the table in front of him, prepared for the exchange. <br><br>"Last chance to back out," he teased lightly. <br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 18:39:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"I fear you do not fully understand, Duncan." </em> Jazelle answered, her eyes sober as he accepted the wager, sorting through the cards to seal the deal with, to her, the weight of an oath.&nbsp; She would not accept his retraction now, no more than she would have gone back on her wager.&nbsp; <em>"If I lose this wager, and I come to you ... and you deny me ... the time would soon come when your denial would mean little.&nbsp; &nbsp;If you could refuse me, I doubt that I would suffer the wrack either patiently or ... alone.&nbsp; Perhaps you have heard in your stories of once living things that feed upon blood?"</em><br><br>Jazelle took up her cards, and spread them like a fan, seeing how luck had favored her.&nbsp; Would he think that her warning, that she would not suffer alone, meant that she would break her word and lie with another?&nbsp; &nbsp;No, there were many other things she would likely break before her word, and the stronger the hunger, the less she would care.<br><br><em>"They have a saying, which has made its way into your legends for good reason.&nbsp; The blood is the life.&nbsp; I do not hunger for blood, and now that I am free of the chains that once bound me to the abyss, I do not deal in the barter of souls.&nbsp; But, like those pitiable undead creatures, the hungers within me burn hotter than any flame that consumes mere wood.&nbsp; I would not weaken for that hunger, but be the stronger.&nbsp; What <strong>would</strong> weaken ... is that which separates me now from what I once was.&nbsp; You have chosen a dangerous way to test the strength of my word, my general.&nbsp; I can but hope that you do not have cause to regret it."</em><br><br>It was, perhaps, a delicious irony.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her word had once meant no more than the air that had exited her mouth upon the speaking.&nbsp; Over the years, it had become a barrier, a refutation, of her enslavement, a chain that she chose to wear in order to be something other than what she had been made to be.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>While she would not have chosen this course, if she were set upon it ... some part of her welcomed it, even longed for it.&nbsp; &nbsp;If she lost this wager, and he sought to deny her or failed to quiet those hungers ... What would she have become by its end?&nbsp; No more than she had been, a testament to the futility of fighting destiny, perhaps ... or would she transcend yet again?<br><br>She smiled, lazily, her eyes traveling over his delicious form slowly, the knowledge of what lay beneath his clothes all the sweeter for being hidden from sight.<br><br><em>"You will always receive my best ability regardless, my general, in all things.&nbsp; &nbsp;You deserve no less."&nbsp; </em><br><br>The succubus paused for a moment, eyes returning to his face, all traces of concern wiped away from her expression. <em> "... And win or lose, I do not doubt that the time will be short before you learn how truly I <strong>do</strong> ... hunger for you."</em><br><br>She could not help but enjoy the dance.&nbsp; None had offered her such challenge, such promise, or such threat ... in long years.&nbsp; And the hunger she felt lick up inside her at his smile and the answering flicker of hunger in his dark eyes -- it would be so easy to become drunk upon it, to revel in it, and in the joy and anticipation of giving it full rein to feast.<br><br>There was a vague tremor inside her, almost like the first warning, the first tightening, of delicious release, in the pit of her stomach.&nbsp; Was that fear?&nbsp; She had almost ... almost ... forgotten what it felt like.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-11-2014, 22:18:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Devon listened to her response, and he took it for exactly what it was - a warning. Gentle as her words were, sweet as her eyes were upon his, sultry as her demeanor might be, it was not lost on him at all exactly -what- she was. No man had stopped her in all her long years, which meant that stopping her, protecting oneself from her, was something no man had ever been able to do. Duncan was confident... but not arrogantly so. He realized these things, and in his mind he already had a plan... A plan to tease her and torment her every bit as much as she had already done to him. A plan to dish out the same anxiety to her that she had already done for him. Assuming he won, of course....<br><br>"My dear Jazelle," he said, his voice deeply sweet. "I can claim with no great amount of pride that I've defeated countless opponents who underestimated me. To you, to your eyes, to your... hunger... I am but a mortal man, likely little different from all that have come before me. And... perhaps that is precisely what I want you to believe," he said, his voice gentle and lacking any sort of arrogance one might expect to accompany such words. "I appreciate the warning, as dire as it sounds. While I have no experience dealing with your kind, I do have a rather... well-developed sense of preservation, which has served me well up to this point."<br><br>While he spoke, his hands moved. He exchanged his cards, picking up the replacements and sorting them into his hand. A small smile crossed his lips - a feint? A ruse? Or was he truly happy with the cards he had acquired?<br><br>"Indeed, I have chosen a dangerous way to test you... but as I have learned, such tests are the best and most direct way to learn about your opponent," he replied. "I am confident I can test you... completely, without sending you back to the abyss you refer to. I won't regret it... unless it frightens you away," he added, leaning back in his seat a bit.<br><br>"It also pleases me greatly to hear that you hunger for me. I look forward to learning how much," he said, his eyes still focused on his cards. "Likewise, I look forward to demonstrating the same to you, as well. I've imagined it a hundred times in my head already - the moment we both enjoy the first plunge - and the countless ones after. Does that make me a lech?" he asked rhetorically as he raised his hand to adjust the order of his cards in his hand. He shrugged slightly. "I suppose it might. But, I can tell you this..."<br><br>He folded his cards together and laid the tiny stack face down in front of him, as if he had seen all he needed to see. He then folded his arms and leaned his elbows onto the table in front of him.<br><br>"When you have lost to me - and you will - and you have outlived me and regained your freedom... I promise you... you will -never- forget me," he said, the look on his face and in his dark eyes one of supreme confidence. He wasn't boasting, he wasn't preening his feathers before her, and he wasn't going on with the numerous ways he'd make such a thing come true. Instead, he made the statement, gave her a look - and to him, that's all he needed to do to convey his intent.<br><br>It appeared the general did have a spine, and it appeared that the general was prepared to accept her warning, and anything else she might throw at him. <br><br>Or, he was simply off his rocker.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-11-2014, 04:49:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><br>As Duncan spoke, Jazelle watched him narrowly, considering.&nbsp; &nbsp;This was a side of him she had not yet seen, and it was the most fascinating one yet.&nbsp; His certainty, his confidence, and even his daring was a draw even more so than his intelligence, and the hard appeal of his body.&nbsp; He was no longer fighting his desire for her, or even cautious of it.&nbsp; He had embraced it, and now sought to become its master not by denial but by use.<br><br>She could have told him that, already, she would remember him until the abyss reclaimed her, or she was otherwise destroyed, but she did not, even though it were truth.&nbsp; As long as she had lived, she had met few mortal men who had captured her interest enough to live like a brand in her memory, but already she knew that he would take their place amongst them.<br><br>Unless, of course, he did not.&nbsp; His wager opened up ... a wealth of possibilities, many of which aroused both her lust for him and ... her curiosities ... and her spirit of competition, her need to excel, or at least to be beaten only by the very best.<br><br>It was an interesting quandary, and she was not altogether certain whether she would prefer to win or lose ... though she would play, as she always had, to win. <br><br>Jazelle looked at her cards, and quickly chose two to discard.&nbsp; It would have been better could she have exchange three, but she was limited by Duncan's play.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her hand was weak ... not unplayable, but definitely not catering to her strengths.<br><br><em>"There is, my general, a curse that I have heard ... deemed to be amongst the most terrible that can be leveled upon an enemy.&nbsp; &nbsp;'May you live in interesting times.'&nbsp; Should you win, the times ahead of you ... will ... be interesting.&nbsp; That ... my general ... is my promise to you.&nbsp; I will leave it to your determination, should you be victorious, which it truly is."</em><br><br>Her smile did not falter, and she did not hesitate as she folded her cards together, waiting to see if he would then exchange the remaining three cards the rules allowed, or would play the hand he held.&nbsp; If he did exchange any further cards, she might be able to better her hand.&nbsp; If he did not, there was nothing to do but score the hand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-11-2014, 05:24:48</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan -did- feel more comfortable, more -confident- when he forced his mind to put things into a rationalized context that he could not only understand and appreciate, but also master. War. Battle. Combat. Whether it was hand to hand, or plotting the clash of army against army, Duncan had experienced it -all-, and usually he had come out the better for it. Because of his successes, and because of his bountiful experience in such arts, it was a comfort zone that did not exist elsewhere in his life. In the Royal Courtroom, he felt like a fish out of water. In the grand Hall of Commerce, he felt like a fool. In the Academy of Sciences and Magick, he felt like an idiot. It was only on the field of battle where he felt like a -master-, like he could crush any before him and smile while doing so, enjoying the contest, savoring the victory and the spoils.<br><br>Tonight, even though the game they played was simple with plainly laid rules and no violence whatsoever, Duncan simply changed his perspective, viewing the game itself as a 'battle'. There were two sides. They were opposed, pitted against one another. There was conflict, and both sides wanted desperately to win. The cards were his soldiers - some would be sacrificed for the greater good, while others were of top importance and too valuable to lose. There were spoils to this contest - their respective wagers, and he did not bother mentioning to her that he would be curious about her for the remainder of his living days, whatever the outcome. His opponent, Jazelle, was an unknown, her mind alien to him and her mindset unpredictable. He would use some caution, then, but not overly much - the general had won countless victories in his time, often through daring and risk. He wasn't about to shun Lady Luck as of yet.<br><br>"I have heard such a saying," Duncan replied. "And I say that life would not be worth living without events to -make- it interesting," he said, glancing down at his cards as he then watched her make her exchange. "And I have no doubt whatsoever that - should I win - my life will become -<em>much</em>- more interesting," he said, a confident grin on his lips. "Why do you think I would make such a wager? I try to think of the entire campaign, not just a single battle - it is a trait I acquired through trial and error. A common man would play this game, look at you, and wager quickly for a night between your thighs. He'd be aching for that one pleasure, that one glorious burst of activity - likely lasting only mere moments... and upon losing himself and seeding your bedsheets seconds later - he would be done, spent, his wager played out."<br><br>Duncan took a breath, pondering his cards for an additional moment. "I, on the other hand... am thinking long-term. If you lose, and if you keep your word... you will come to -<em>me</em>-, Jazelle," he said, and his voice grew noticeably more husky. "You will ache as I do. You will <em>want</em> as I want. Your heart will race when you find me, wondering if that night will be the night that I give in and give you what you crave... what you -<em>need-</em>. Perhaps I will make you wait a day. A week. A month... Until I finally decide you may have that which you hunger for. And when that time comes, know this...."<br><br>He then obviously decided to skip his second draw phase - which denied her the ability to do so, as well. Instead, he fanned out his cards before him on the table... revealing an incredibly high-scoring hand...<br><br>"Know that I will insist that you be in your true-form, horns and milky-white skin and hair and eyes... and I will see a -want- on your face the likes of which you likely have never experienced before.... and then I shall satisfy that want in you...." <br><br>He leaned back slowly in his chair, grinning.<br><br>"And you shall<em> love </em>me for it."<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-11-2014, 14:54:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"I wonder ..."</em><br><br>Jazelle studied the general, her eyes gradually darkening as she listened to him speak, drawing on her experience and her own nature as she pondered.&nbsp; The confidence in his own abilities was an attractive feature, and admittedly one that she preferred in a man.&nbsp; Nothing palled more quickly than a man who denied his own worth, who sought the reflection of it in another's eyes and words.&nbsp; &nbsp;She rarely wasted time on such men, or those who must be coaxed to the fullness of their desires in tiny steps, while their mind laid out traps in their path.<br><br>She would leave such foolishness to her daughter.<br><br>In battle, generals held lives in their hands - the lives of those who followed them, the lives of those who opposed them, and the lives of those in both their path and their wake.&nbsp; In battle, men, women, and children died, by intent, by design, and by mischance and ill fortune as well.&nbsp; He did not strike her as a man without empathy, a man who would raze a village for no more reason than it lay between his army and his opponent.<br><br>Her chains to the abyss had been broken, but a succubus she still was.&nbsp; She did not collect souls, but she still fed upon the energy generated by desire, by sexual pleasure, by release.&nbsp; &nbsp;He spoke of denying her that so casually, reminding her of his monarch's casual dispensations of punishment and reward that had never looked beyond the immediate.&nbsp; Was he, like his king had been, unaware of how a single decision could ripple down to a dozen, a hundred, unintended consequences?&nbsp; Or did he know, and simply not care?&nbsp; Or did he think that because she had treated him gently, she would simply suffer the madness of hunger in isolation, until he was convinced he had taught her the meaning of 'want'?&nbsp; &nbsp;Or was he confident that he could control the battle, given that they would be the only two directly engaged?<br><br>What would she do?&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle was truly not certain, which only added to the interest.&nbsp; Breaking her word was not something that she would willingly do, though she wondered how long a period of starvation, of imprisonment, it would take before she reverted to a thing of chaos.&nbsp; Could she resist, until her existence just *stopped*, until she, like mortals, ceased to be?&nbsp; That, she doubted, and her curiosity was not so great as to prompt her to test it ... though now the thought had been planted.&nbsp; Or would she simply reach a point where she *took* what she desired?&nbsp; That thought was not alien to her, though it carried with it a vague sort of distaste, even in the pondering.&nbsp; Or would she seek that which she needed from another source, the one that Duncan's wording had left open to her?&nbsp; This was another that brought with it no true curiosity -- a steady diet of stale, unleavened bread could sustain, but it would not satisfy.&nbsp; And, of course, there was the crude possibility, the final one, the one that most of her sisters would have employed without so much as a thought, whether it was before or after the taking. <br><br>And the longer the need built, the deeper she would feed, and the less control she would have.&nbsp; She felt a flicker of fear, deep down within, but it was weak compared to the curiosity, the draw to test herself, to learn more of both what she was and what she was capable ... and, too, to strip this fascinating mortal man down to the bare essence, to study him, to know him ... to possess him.<br><em><br>"Should you win, we shall see ... and the times will be interesting for a good many."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle inclined her head, acknowledging and reinforcing that she understood and accepted the consequences of her decision.&nbsp; <br><br>He laid out his cards, and in a heartbeat the succubus had scored the hand in her own mind, and accepted the clarion call to battle.<br><br>There was no element of defeat in her motions as she turned over her cards and spread them out in an even fan, revealing the luck of the draw, and his skill in gauging it.<br><em><br>"Congratulations, my general.&nbsp; You have won the advantage ... but the battle has just begun."</em><br><br>And one thing she had seen, time and again, over her existence, was that love and hate were the two sides of the same blade.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>22-11-2014, 19:59:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan gave Jazelle a gracious smile as he examined her cards that she presented for scoring. His were higher, but even as her words immediately indicated – this was but the opening sortie, the first shot, the single arrow that started the conflict. He was well aware that this would be a&nbsp; hard-fought battle lasting several hands, though it may come down to the last deal of the cards, the last luck of the draw – as combat often did.<br><br>“Thank you,” he answered politely as he adroitly scooped up the cards and began to pile them together, facing the same direction, in preparation for his turn to deal. “It is only the first deal of six, so there is still ample time for the winds of fate to change direction. Perhaps it was just sheer luck,” he said with a slight shrug. “Fortune is a fickle mistress, one day eager to grant a man a series of boons that puts him on top of the world, only to turn round moments later and curse him to failure. In my experience, a mix of fortune and skill are required to triumph – one bolsters the other, even if nothing is certain,” he said, and once the cards were neatly stacked, he set about shuffling them and cutting the deck over and over at a leisurely pace.<br><br>“I might also inquire, lady Jazelle... if the idea of a set of... smaller wagers, per the remaining five hands, might entice you?” he asked, his eyes focused on her now, rather than the cards in his hands as he shuffled, straightened, then shuffled again. “We have the overall goal, to win the war... but would it excite you at all to increase the importance of each individual hand with smaller risks? Say, for example, if I win the next hand... I would require a kiss, your tongue enslaved to mine for a few short, sweet seconds. Would this idea interest you?” he asked, his hands mechanically separating the cards into two stacks, shuffling, then neatly arranging the stack again.<br><br>Duncan realized, of course, that he was encountering a very unknown quantity in her. Jazelle, not being human, was unpredictable and not like a typical opponent for him. Still, he had little else to go on. If he treated her as a completely foreign obstacle and chose not to use his own experience in this task, he might as well just randomly accept and discard various cards during the game. No, he would trust to his experience, trust to his skills, and if he lost – at least he would have the added satisfaction of being beaten by someone who was more skilled then he – or luckier. In either event, it would be a -good- loss, one that would want to make him play again.<br><br>But if he won... the prospect of that, the promise it held... was an allure to him almost as powerful as her breasts or her lips, the curve of her rump or the scent of the sweet treasure that hid between her thighs. He had no experience with demons, except only the warnings given to him since he was a child that said demons were foul creatures, bent on the destruction of man and always seeking their downfall. As a child, Duncan always wondered what mankind had done to demons to deserve their hatred, a question no one could ever answer completely for him. The best answer had come from his mother, who had looked him in the eye and said,<em> 'Demons just -are-, Dunny. It's in their nature to hate and want to destroy.'</em><br><br>Just as it was within Duncan's nature to fight to the bitter end, to never give up, to never admit defeat until the last arrow was cast, the last sword raised, the last shield sundered.<br><br>It was within Duncan's nature to -win-.<br><br>Duncan shuffled the cards twice more, then began to deal them as she had dealt them before. Once they each had their twelve cards laying before them, Duncan set the remaining cards between them and picked up his own, fanning the cards and sorting them quietly. Not as favorable a hand as the first, but still quite strong, all things considered...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-11-2014, 17:57:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br><em>"You are gracious in victory, my general.&nbsp; This is, I believe, a rare trait in men who have enjoyed the kind of power that you command.&nbsp; Are you as gracious in defeat?&nbsp; &nbsp;Some would say that the latter is the truest form of grace, to give it expression when all is lost and it is nothing more than a reflection of the soul within.&nbsp; I am not certain that I agree.&nbsp; &nbsp;To congratulate your opponent when he as bested you ... might it not be a measure of defiance rather than surrender?&nbsp; A subtle way to claim for oneself some small measure of equality, or perhaps even superiority?" </em><br><br>Jazelle did not seek to accuse with her words, only to speak her thoughts aloud, to continue to learn more of both herself and the man who so captured her interest. Too, it distracted her from other thoughts, other things, that were ever-present in her mind like a thirst rarely sated.&nbsp; &nbsp;The robe cinched about her tickled and teased at her skin, a thousand tiny fingers, and she toyed with the thought of loosening it, or drawing the fabric tight over her body,&nbsp; to tease Duncan's eyes and perhaps distract him.&nbsp; She would have enjoyed it, very much, but the thought was not a pleasant one as it brushed across the surface of her mind.&nbsp; It was not the way of a bargain.&nbsp; She did neither, only settled back and steepled her fingers together in a fluid and continuous movement.&nbsp; The edges of her nails raked gently, softly, across the sensitive skin between the fingers, stoking her appetite.&nbsp; Either way, she would have him.&nbsp; There was no need to hurry anything.<br><br>Duncan offered the possibility of other wagers, and laid out a suggestion for possible terms.&nbsp; Was he testing her, initiating a bait and switch, testing her hunger for him, or offering the admission that he longed for her kiss, her touch?&nbsp; It was tempting, both the knowledge that such a game offered and the purely physical stoking of her hungers and his.<br><br><em>"No.&nbsp; I think not, my sweet.&nbsp; Lesser wagers would only dilute the victory ... yours ... or mine.&nbsp; &nbsp;You have revealed something of your mind, your desires to me - allow me to return the regard.&nbsp; I do not wager this, but I do promise ... when next you see my true form, sweet Duncan, it will be when you grant me that which I desire, in victory or defeat."</em><br><br>Why he favored that form, that truth, she was not entirely certain.&nbsp; It was to her a form a chaos, of possibilities, of indecision ... but it had captured both his curiosity and his desires, and she had felt the flare of his lust when he alluded to how he would have her, should he win.&nbsp; Jazelle would not risk any further wager that would let him lay the field of battle to his liking.<br><br>The stakes were too high.<br><br>The succubus did like to win - what creature didn't?&nbsp; Yet the years had given her some perspective in defeat -- something that her respected ally had hoped to bestow upon the king's most trusted adviser.<br><br>When he had dealt, she picked up her cards and studied them, and quickly selected two cards to exchange, her eyes seeking his as she laid them face down.<br><br>She was tempted to offer a kiss, freely given, both for her own enjoyment and to keep his senses stirred should he accept ... but decided, reluctantly, against it.&nbsp; The competitive spirit was a delightful thing, but conversely restrictive when given free rein.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>23-11-2014, 22:37:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>“I receive no stimulation or satisfaction from belittling a defeated foe,” Duncan replied to her compliment. “One should always be gracious in victory. The way the victor handles his or her affairs will be remembered by the defeated who survived, and as such it can play an important part during the events that follow. A war is often a series of battles, and the next time one faces that defeated foe on a future battlefield, the results might very well be quite the opposite. It is then that the enemy might decide your fate, and previous encounters could very well have an effect on how that is carried out.”<br><br>He paused a moment, as if reflecting on some past event or series of events that bore out his own personal history on that matter. <br><br>“But you make an excellent point. So often a defeated solider gives-up, as if weighing their entire worth on one battle alone. But there is much respect to be gained from suffering defeat with dignity, and as I have learned over the years, there is -always- something to learn, some bit of wisdom to be gleaned from every confrontation – even in defeat. I certainly have lost some battles, and in each case I learned something important – learned some crucial detail about my foe, about my own forces.... <em>-something-</em>. Not to mention, how a leader handles himself after a defeat will play a huge part on the morale and demeanor of those that follow him.. or her.”<br><br>Duncan leaned back for a moment, further considering her words. She seemed quite knowledgeable on this subject, which did surprise him...&nbsp; but then again, her words might have been intended in a slightly different way than he interpreted them.<br><br>“Showing good graces in the face of defeat is, indeed, an act of defiance unto itself some would say. To acknowledge one was bested means setting aside some amount of pride, however large or small it might be, and that takes courage and an open assessment of oneself to submit to. For some, it might even balm the wounds they suffered, mentally or physically, in their defeat. By offering congratulations, you are silently saying to your opponent, <em>'You have won this day – yet I still stand'</em>, and an opponent that still stands is a possible opponent again down the road.”<br><br>Jazelle refused his offer of smaller wagers, and when she did, he smiled. Perhaps she had realized that he was not unskilled in the game they were now playing, and did not risk to lose any further wagers to the mortal sitting across from her? Or perhaps she simply believed the stakes as they currently stood were more than enough for one day? Whatever the reason, Duncan nodded to her respectfully. <br><br>And her promise relating to him seeing her true form again... it felt like a blow to him for some reason, and he quickly analyzed the feeling and its origin. He had been intrigued by her true form, for various reasons, and for her to deny him seeing it except on her terms... it was as if she had simply reached across the table with a hand and politely took the reins of the horse-cart away from him. The semblance of solid ground he had found himself on once the game had begun had now once more become somewhat unstable.<br><br>It wasn't that her chosen illusory form was not pleasant – quite the contrary. Her chosen illusory form was exceptionally enticing, built as if a dream for -any- man who might happen upon her. Indeed, had he seen such a woman back in the kingdom in which he lived, he would have given pursuit to her no matter the cost or risk involved. Yet Duncan knew that this form was -false-, that it was not -<em>the rea</em>l- Jazelle. Hell, even the form she claimed to be her real one might -not- be her real one. She was under no obligation to be truthful with him to any degree. But if he continued his time spent with her under the assumption that she had been truthful, then he knew what it was he desired – and that was her, the <em>real</em> her, no matter how different her real-self might be.<br><br>His offer refused, there was naught else to do but to engage in the fray. Perhaps she was taking a more serious approach now that he had demonstrated a skill in the game that she thought she had mastered? Whatever the case may be, she chose to exchange two cards, and then the general exchanged three... and the engagement was renewed once more.<br><br>Duncan had claimed the first hand, but Jazelle had claimed the second – by a string. But whether it was by the width of a hair or the width of a mountain mattered not. She was tenacious and challenging. She also won the third hand, which might have dampened the spirits of any man who had built high hopes after the first, but Duncan knew that even the worst odds could be turned in one's favor, if the urge to give in to despair was resisted.<br><br>It was that fourth hand where Duncan focused his own thoughts, sharpened his own mind as he juggled the odds in his mind. This game, like real battle, was often filled with 'what ifs' and possibilities. A hand that looked positive could turn sour with the wrong discard, and a hand that looked helpless could turn into a stellar one if the luck of the draw was in your favor.<br><br>Such was Duncan's fate that night as he went on to take all three of the final hands, scoring a solid victory that should leave no doubt that he did not win with only luck on his side: skill and luck had combined to give him the victory, and as he leaned back in his chair after the final tally was made, his eyes focused intently on the intriguing woman sitting across from him. A thin smile graced his lips, one of satisfaction.<br><br>“So, my sweet demoness,” he said, his voice laced with a sultry tinge to it, not exactly mocking the way she often referred to him as 'her general', but it seemed almost as if he was savoring the words – for were they not at least, in part, accurate now in some way? “How will -you- handle yourself in defeat, I wonder? Will you rage now against the mortal who bested you? Or... will you subtly claim for yourself some small measure of equality... or superiority?” he asked curiously,&nbsp; remembering the words she had uttered at the beginning of the game.<br><br>In that moment, he was braced for anything. As cool and calm as he appeared to be, he was ready for her to show some imagined 'true face', anger and fury directed at him for daring to oppose her... despite it simply being a game. But in his eyes, what she had lost would be sizable – at least for the remaining years he had yet to live. That could be one, or two, or twenty, but in the lifetime of an immortal such as herself, would such an amount of time truly matter at all?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-11-2014, 02:46:44</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>Once she had made her promise, Jazelle watched Duncan's face intently, focusing all her attention on every clue to his thoughts and feelings as body and aura could offer.&nbsp; Yes, she had, she was convinced, done much to level the field of play between them.&nbsp; Should she lose this wager, his desires would rage right along with hers ... and by denying him any chance to control her form by her word ...<br><br>The succubus smiled, and lowered her eyes.<br><br>She played each hand as she had played the first,&nbsp; leveraging the luck of the cards and calculating the odds.&nbsp; In skill, they were well matched.&nbsp; In fortune, the wheel spun.&nbsp; After gracing her with its favor, the lady bestowed her favors to Duncan, again and again.&nbsp; All things considered, Jazelle acknowledged that she might well have done the same.&nbsp; Duncan Vanzell was a temptation that few women with courage could resist - she and Dame Fortune had not proven immune to his allure.<br><br>Even as she knew the outcome from the first deal of her final hand, she played it out to its fullest, giving no quarter.&nbsp; &nbsp;She returned Duncan's smile, her face as serene in defeat as is had been when the outcome was yet in doubt.<br><br>He wondered how she would handle defeat.<br><br>Jazelle rose, and slowly closed the distance between them.&nbsp; Gracefully, she bent and rested her lips against his cheek, moving the kiss downward until her mouth brushed his like the wings of a butterfly.&nbsp; Her fingers brushed over his hair, grazing his ear.&nbsp; She feared the consequences of what might happen, feared the potential to descend once again into the madness of chaos ... but it would be a lie to say that she did not welcome this chance, relish the challenge that had been laid before her.<br><br><em>"We shall see, my general.&nbsp; Well played, and I truly hope that the time does not come when you regret fortune's favor, or your own skill."</em><br><br>She straightened, as the chain that hooked to Duncan's collar slithered free from its fastenings upon the floor, the clasp holding the collar about his neck released, slipping away with a silvery series of clinks as it dropped away.<br><br><em>"The cock has crowed, Duncan, and ended the night with its rude cacophany.&nbsp; You have spent the balance of a night with a succubus - a story that does not usually have a happy ending, or one so ... unfinished.&nbsp; The doorway from this place is open to you now."</em><br><br>What he would do now, she did not know.&nbsp; She could make an educated guess, but there was little point.&nbsp; What she would do, she already knew ... Two games had ended, and the third was about to begin.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>24-11-2014, 10:41:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Basking in his victory had rarely felt so sweet. Any idea Duncan had that Jazelle thought him less of a man simply because he was a mortal, would hopefully have suffered a blow of sorts by his beating her at cards. The thought passed through his consciousness that perhaps she had lost on purpose – but it was a fleeting thought. He had made his wager, a serious one, and he could tell by her reaction that it had affected her somehow. He had chosen something she was not wanting to lose. Not only did that make her play even harder to win (which he wanted), but it gave him a great prize, as well.<br><br>He was sure, then, that he sensed a change in her when the game was done. She politely complimented his skill, and also expressed her hope that he would not regret his wager. He knew he wouldn't, but Duncan decided not to say anything further. Instead, she straightened and her hands rose upward – and he thought for sure she would begin -immediately- to try to seduce him. He felt foolish, then, when her hands simply went to the collar he wore – and unhooked it from about his neck.<br><br>Without any real thought, he raised a hand up to caress his neck where the collar had been. It hadn't been uncomfortable really, but now that it was gone, his neck felt cold, and he was cognizant how odd it felt to be missing the collar now. An odd thought, he pondered to himself.<br><br>Then she claimed that the cock had crowed, and very politely showed him the door.<br><em><br>~The cock has most certainly -not- crowed... or I would obviously know it,~</em> he thought to himself. Had the ache in his loins remained since the first moment he had arrived? Why, yes it had, and having beaten her at the game, it was as ponderous and compelling as it had been all night long. <br><br>But her words had a hint of finality to them, as if she were ushering him out the door. Perhaps she was angry, perhaps she wanted to rage but not in his presence so that he would see how terribly she had taken the defeat. Maybe she sought to break her word to him within minutes of losing. Duncan knew not why she seemed so quick to dismiss him, but... he wasn't going to refuse her. <br><br>“As you wish,” he replied sweetly, rising to his feet, lowering his hand from his neck. He gave a quick glance to the collar, a flash of curiosity crossing his thoughts, wondering if her wager would have been so bad to endure. Perhaps if he saw her again, he might inquire more about it, or perhaps...<br><br>Something inside him gave the general pause, and he turned to face her at the last moment. Was it guilt? No, surely it could not be that? He had played fairly, had not felt the need to cheat, and had won fairly. He had played nobly, had been a gentleman throughout, and not once did he rub it in. Yet still something niggled at the back of his mind....<br><br>“Your wager,” he said. “Would it be such a terrible thing for me to... agree to it outside the confines of our game?” he asked, and with that... he slowly extended his hand toward her. It would be her decision to give him the collar or not. Of course taking it didn't mean he'd have to put it on – he could keep it in a box and out of sight, only taking it out to look at it and remember this night, as she suggested. It would be a trophy of sorts, a memento of his visit here, and his victory. 'Spoils' came to mind, and he thought perhaps that might adequately fit the description as well.<br><br>But her other words, 'you will have but to hold it and think of me.&nbsp; I will come to you and satisfy your curiosity, my sweet, with no magic to compel you save that of your choice.' came echoing back through his mind, and he felt a shiver go down his spine.&nbsp; <br><br>Whether she gave him the device or not, he then politely bowed toward her. “I bid you good night, lady Jazelle. This has been the most intriguing night I've experienced in quite a long time, and... I thoroughly enjoyed your company,” he said, his voice sounding genuine, and then he turned and walked toward the part of her chambers where he had arrived, thinking he would find a door, or some sort of portal, or-...<br>- – - - – – – – - – <br>Duncan blinked, standing in front of his mirror – exactly where he had been when he had 'left'. Or... had he left at -all-, truly?<br><br>As if on cue, Duncan heard the distant sound of a cock crowing, his had snapping around to look out the window. Morning. He had been gone all night... or, he had been standing before his mirror in some sort of fugue state and not even realized it. <br><br><em>Jazelle...</em><br><br>Looking about his opulent chambers, they suddenly felt... cold. Empty, and he found himself already missing her company, her sly smile, her wicked eyes, her witty words and teasing ways. It was a withdrawal of sorts he had never experienced, his mind so focused on her that he simply stood there for a moment – and then the ache gnawed at him again. <br><br>Without hesitation he strode to the corner of his room and dropped his linen breeches – and extending one arm to press a hand against the wall before him to lean against, his other hand lowered and began to stroke himself rather vigorously.<br><br>His eyes closed and he saw images of her, memories of all that they had shared, of the time spent verbally sparring... and of the time spent touching. They had denied each other, perhaps each trying too hard to obtain the upper hand, even though he knew she truly had the upper-hand the entire time. Gods, how he wanted her... just as any man would, and in his vivid imagination, he was able to -have- her, whether she accepted him or not.<br><br>A few more vigorous tugs and his ending was upon him. He groaned deeply, arching his back, sending his burst of seed down towards the chamber pot, spilling a streak of white along its side having missed the opening, but his hand continued to stroke and the following ejaculate went precisely where he intended, his aim improved.<br><br>It was... barely felt. The climax had been almost lifeless, boring, offering the barest hint of enjoyment or bliss. After being with -her-, after seeing her and touching her, he knew any orgasm he enjoyed between now and the next time he saw her would be -empty-. Was that part of her curse? Was that part of some magic she had worked upon him? He wasn't sure.<br><br>Spent now, he moved over to his bed, naked, and slipped beneath the blanket. One oil lamp still burned, but he didn't bother going to turn it down. He wasn't going to sleep soon anyway, so it didn't matter. Unless a war was on the horizon, no one would come to bother him and he could sleep as much as he wished. <br><br>But he lay there for many hours, well past daybreak, thinking of a horned succubus, wondering what she would feel like inside in that form – the same, or different? Did she enjoy pleasure the same away in her true form, or did she require some other form of stimulation? <br><br>All questions he was eager to find answers for, ideas and thoughts crossing his mind as his eyelids finally grew heavier. But the last thought on his mind before sleep claimed him was something else entirely.<br><br><em>When would he see her again?...</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-11-2014, 15:17:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus2small.jpg)</div><br>​To leave him so lightly, without a more emphatic memory, was not the succubus' preference, by far.&nbsp; He was not the first to leave her clutches with aches unsatisfied, curiosity and lust alike ... nor was he the first to have caught her interest all the more for doing so.&nbsp; He had challenged her courteously, and met her on her own field, admitting his desires rather than using them as a shield.&nbsp; For that he was unique in her experience, and it was indeed tempting to attempt to keep him with her longer.&nbsp; With the collar gone, her onus satisfied ... <br><br>But that prospect did not sit well with her.&nbsp; She had accepted his wager, and the rules he had laid down.&nbsp; It was up to her to forge her own measure of victory, or of gracious defeat, by those rules, to challenge him as he had challenged her within those rules.&nbsp; To do other would lessen herself, and him as well, and that would be poor sport at best.<br><br>Still, patient as a bird of prey, she did naught but watch as he moved away.&nbsp; He desired her still, and there was something in his posture of ... uncertainty ... regret?&nbsp; If he were like most mortals, he knew little of her sisters.&nbsp; For her knowing, she was the only succubus moving free upon the world, with no master save her own conscience.&nbsp; &nbsp; Others had been released, certainly, but they had quickly given over to chaos and had been banished or destroyed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her daughter, the daughters of her sisters, were not as rare upon this plane as some might suppose, but few had taken time to learn from them, of them.&nbsp; &nbsp;She felt some measure of sympathy for him as he walked away - even in victory, he was adrift and there were few who could offer him guidance even were he willing to ask for it.<br><br>He paused, turned ... and her breath held while he spoke, his words evoking a shudder of *need* that she did not even attempt to hide.&nbsp; Her eyes closed against it, her will harnessed her breath, and her body.&nbsp; When her eyes opened again she did not address his offer or speak at all, but only watched again as he deemed her silence a refusal.<br><br><em>"Likewise, sweet Duncan.&nbsp; Until we meet again, fare you well." </em> Her words were quiet, hardly more than a whisper ... only her lips moved, her lips and hair and the robe that covered her body, the breeze blowing through the chamber moist and fragrant with the sea, stirring up the scent of sweet-burning wood, of exotic perfumes and spices.&nbsp; She could have been a statue carved and painted, dressed up like some precocious child's doll in finery and wig, her movement nothing but a figment of some half-forgotten dream -- save for her eyes, the hunger and certainty in them filled with life.<br><br>And then he was gone.&nbsp; To the succubus, it was as if she had blinked, though she had not, and winked him from existence.&nbsp; Reflectively, she slowly wound the collar's chain into a neat little coil, fastening it to the leather still warm from Duncan's skin ... her fingers lingering on that warmth.<br><br>The cock had crowed, and she had much to do.&nbsp; Part of her was tempted to go drag a no-doubt slumbering, hung-over king from his bed and get things set in motion ... but that would be both discourteous and an indication of her eagerness.&nbsp; It would also predispose Bertrand against her, giving him reason to regard this game that he had not volunteered to host as an inconvenience and annoyance.&nbsp; No, her first movement in the game would be to recruit him to her cause, to bring him into the game rather than make him an unwilling observer.<br><br>She moved toward the bed and lay down upon it, letting the shape she had taken melt away, and closed her eyes.&nbsp; Her thoughts were of Duncan what they could have shared together, and what they would.&nbsp; It was no effort at all to find him, to sense that he had suffered no ill effects from the ending of the wizard's spell.&nbsp; His desire for her was strong, and it shone like a beacon in the darkness, filled with all the colors and shapes of his magnificent aura.&nbsp; &nbsp;That he thought of her made it all that much easier to fill her awareness with the essence of him.&nbsp; Though she did not know what he thought, precisely, she could sense something of him -- and desire was, after all, the air she breathed, and she smiled ... a slow, lazy, satisfied, hungry smile ... when she worked out what he almost surely did<br><br>Let him sleep, and she would take the field and bring the game to him.&nbsp; She would haunt his dreams, and when he woke ... she would have made certain he would not waste time in wondering whether she had been some spirit-and-revelry-induced dream.<br><br><hr><br>​<br>Several hours later, Jazelle's eyes opened.&nbsp; Though she rested, she did not *need* sleep the way that mortals did, though that would change as her energy levels dropped.&nbsp; It had been long since she had denied herself enough to have to take such things into account, but ... soon, it would become a factor for ... the next several decades, or longer, perhaps.<br><br>Also soon, she would need to visit the wizard, to report failure, though it was a failure with potential for further negotiation.&nbsp; Where once she would have known only torture, punishment for failure, what she would endure would only be the knowledge of having disappointed someone who had entrusted her with a matter of import.&nbsp; Of the two, she was not entirely certain which was worse.&nbsp; First, though, she had other, more pressing business.<br><br>As she stood and made her way to the polished armoire where she kept a variety of costumes -- reality was more appealing to her senses -- her form changed, shrinking, filling out up top, curving at the hips.&nbsp; Her hair curled, and her eyes darkened until the pupil could barely be discerned from the iris.&nbsp; Her cheeks plumped, she added dimples and made her lips fuller, wider, the teeth small and rounded.&nbsp; &nbsp;While she could have dressed in rags and made them appear the finest gowns, there was something sublimely visceral about being dressed suitably for her role.&nbsp; The simple maid's dress that she had worn for Bertrand would do for this, and it was sized already to fit this shape.<br><br>While she dressed, she sought Duncan, and found him sleeping, the deep sleep of exhaustion.&nbsp; &nbsp;Good.&nbsp; That would make things easier.<br><br>Her other preparations were simple, a bit of scent for her own enjoyment, the collar and its chain, a necklace bearing an enchantment that would conceal her nature from those attuned to such things.&nbsp; That done, she departed her refuge by simply stepping into the shadows and focusing her will, locating Duncan's sleeping form with almost no effort at all, and stepping into the darkest shadows where he slumbered.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was noone other than him in the room, and she was glad for it ... the presence of another would have complicated things and time was pressing.&nbsp; A soft touch of her hand upon his temple, a surge of her will, and his sleep eased and deepened, a respite from whatever dreams had made his dark eyes dance behind closed lids,&nbsp; &nbsp;She could smell the musk still on him from his ejaculate, in the room itself, and she inhaled deeply, fixing the scent in her mind much like the floppy-eared hounds humans had bred specifically for hunting by their nose.&nbsp; She had, after all, earned it, for she doubted that it was some empty-headed milkmaid he had been thinking of when he gave his desires such lonely release.<br><br>She studied Duncan's sleeping form, resisting the urge to touch him further, to run her hand over his sleeping form, to stroke back his hair and feel the soft firmness of his lips beneath her fingertip.&nbsp; The time might yet come when she would avail herself of such tactics, but they were not her purpose now.&nbsp; Instead, she lay the coiled collar and its chain upon the pillow beside him. and contented herself with rubbing a bit of the scent she wore off upon the pillow casing where he perhaps might scent it upon waking. <br><br><em>"Rest well, my sweet.&nbsp; I will see you ... very soon." </em> Her voice was barely a whisper, as she gently adjusted the covers over his form, smoothing them straight.&nbsp; She could feel the heat of his body beneath, and gave a low, rumbling purr of anticipation before finishing what she had come to do here.&nbsp; The box the collar had been contained in lay where he had put it, still opened.&nbsp; She shut it, and gathered it up into her arms, then quietly exited the room through the door.&nbsp; If any had been there to see, a maid exiting the general's room was surely not an unusual sight, or cause for alarm.<br><br>She carried the box up to the king's chamber, hesitated long enough to ascertain that he was there and alone, and entered without knocking.<br><br>"Have I not asked you not to do that?!" he demanded, a hand holding to his aching head.&nbsp; &nbsp;"I drank far too much wine last night, and my head would surely feel the better for the headsman's axe.&nbsp; There was no need to come and tell me how things went -- my imagination for such things would have sufficed readily, Jazelle."<br><br><em>"Things did not go badly, all things considered, your majesty.&nbsp; However ... there have been ... complications."</em><br><br>Of course there were.&nbsp; Nothing, the king reflected, could ever be simple.&nbsp; "Just tell me, in as few words, and as quietly as possible."<br><br>Jazelle explained that Duncan had been resistant, but that they had established an initial rapport, and an uneasy truce with complications was in the making.&nbsp; Reluctantly, but conceding the necessity, she briefly explained the game she had played with the general and the terms of his wager.&nbsp; She did not volunteer what she had advanced should she have won, however, for it was now immaterial and none of the king's business.<br><br>Bertrand's eyes widened, and he coughed, sputtered, and clung to his head with both hands as the coughing turned in to deep belly laughs that rumbled out while his face reddened ... and the succubus considered simply pitching him out of his window, ornate chair and all.<br><br>When he could speak, he was still chortling.&nbsp; "Oh, that is rich.&nbsp; That is ... perfect.&nbsp; The funniest thing I have ever heard.&nbsp; But you can't kill him, Jazelle, don't even suggest it.&nbsp; I need him.&nbsp; You've gotten us into this mess, so you'll just have to figure out how to get yourself out."<br><br><em>"I already have, Bertrand," </em>Jazelle answered sweetly.&nbsp; <em>"But I'm afraid that I must ask for your assistance ... if only to keep any collateral damage to a minimum."</em><br><br>"What did you have in mind?"&nbsp; The king's hangover aside, he was immediately suspicious, and quite sure that whatever it was that she wanted, there would be even more headaches for him down the road.<br><br><em>"Just your ... indulgence, Your Highness.&nbsp; And your hospitality.&nbsp; &nbsp;A set of rooms in the East Tower, a maid or two ... and, of course, if there are any ladies of your household who currently have their eyes upon the good general, you might want to find reason for them to be elsewhere for a time ... if, of course, you are fond of them."</em><br><br>"I could just order him to ... noblesse oblige, and such.&nbsp; Oh, for peace's sake, can nothing ever be easy?"&nbsp; Bertrand's voice was exasperated, and a little petulant still.<br><br><em>"No, your majesty.&nbsp; This is between he and I ... and I expect that we will settle it between us.&nbsp; Else how could he trust our intentions,&nbsp; my intentions, if I do not honor my bargains?&nbsp; I appreciate your concern, truly I do."</em><br><br>"I doubt that," the king answered dryly, rubbing at his head.&nbsp; "Very, well, do what you must.&nbsp; &nbsp;If nothing else, such entertainment will make the winter bearable, should it last so long.&nbsp; Do keep in mind that time is pressing ... and also that I would really prefer if you did not damage anyone too severely, at least not without checking with me first.&nbsp; Now do go away and torment General Vanzelle, would you?&nbsp; If I laugh again, my head my split in twain."<br><br>Jazelle smiled, albeit thinly, and curtsied before making her exit, leaving the empty box upon the king's desk.&nbsp; She had gotten his agreement to turn his court upside down, and that would certainly make things easier.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>25-11-2014, 04:08:11</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan lay upon his bed, nude save for the single thin linen sheet that he kept pulled up to mid-waist. Even though he had spent himself furiously to thoughts of her, it had barely taken an edge off his lust or his wakefulness, though he tried mightily to get the sleep that he knew he so desperately needed.<br><br>The first part of his sleep had been restless and fitful. Not only did it take him quite some time to finally -fall- asleep, but even once he did, images of horns and pupiless eyes harried him on the edge of true slumber. He awoke several times, thinking that he had perhaps heard her whisper his name, or heard her gentle laugh fill his bed chamber. And every time he started awake, he would meet bitter disappointment to not find her there.<br><br>Eventually, though, the body gave in, and his slumber finally took hold of him, gripping him firmly within its grasp. As it did so, he did not so much as stir as Jazelle appeared in his room. Neither did he stir when she spoke in his presence, or lightly touched his temple. These things were completely lost on him in his current state, and it would have certainly taken a brisk rousing from her in order to waken him, if that had been her desire. He was oblivious to her presence, his body loosely wrapped in various places by the single sheet that had covered one leg and part of his abdomen as he dozed. <br><br>It wasn't until much later when sleep finally let slip its grasp on him that he finally began to wake. Rather, it was the incessant pounding that woke him. At first he thought it a headache, but as his eyes fluttered open, he realized it was the door to his chambers. Someone was pounding relentlessly, and from this far away, he could hear muffled shouts, but not make out what was being shouted. <br><br>Duncan sat up – instantly cursing his fitful rest... he could not take his mind off the milky-white skinned demoness, even though he knew he should. By the gods, even now, sitting up in his bed, he imagined her scent, and-....<br><br>His head turned to the side and he saw the collar, his eyes widening...<br><br>She had -been- there. Jazelle had been in his chambers, been by his bed... and had left the collar that signaled the start of his journey. That was the only explanation there could be, for Duncan was fairly certain Jazelle wouldn't have trusted the collar to any minion of hers to deliver.<br><br>She had -been- there, and he had slept right through it...<br><br>The pounding at the door only increased, and he could better hear some of the words, now... 'Attack', 'Urgent', and 'Desperate' were words he could make out, and he quickly stepped from the bed, pulling the sheet along with him to wrap around his lower body like a linen skirt. He started to head towards the exit to his bedroom, pausing at the door long enough to cast a glance back at the collar.<br><br>He -dare- not touch it. Not yet. The last time he had....<br><br>BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!<br><br>“General! Please!” a man's deep muffled voice sounded out, and Duncan shuffled out of the room, almost tripping on the corner of the sheet that he used to shield himself, pulling his bedroom door closed behind him. He then shuffled quickly down the hallway, bare feet on smoothly polished marble, cool to the touch. Who would have dared attack the kingdom? His scouts were numerous, so it must have been a well-organized assault since Duncan had received no forewarning.<br><br>He reached the door, pulled off the barricade he had set before examining the gift he had received the night before, and flung open the door.<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div><br>Standing in the doorway, hand upraised to pound on the door again was a tall, armored man with blond hair and beard, eyes full of mischief and upon seeing Duncan standing there with naught but a sheet wrapped around his mid-section, a smile appeared on his face.<br><br>Duncan's heart was racing, his eyes wild as he glanced around. “What is it? Is it the Tholons? The Hypaskies?”<br><br>The man at the door then burst out laughing – and simply walked into his chambers, gently shouldering past Duncan. <br><br>“Relax, Duncan. I was jesting. Of course there is no one attacking us – you've defeated them all. Who would dare such an act of stupidity?”<br><br>Duncan groaned and slammed his door shut, his heart quickly coming under his control once more.<br><br>“You and your damned jests!” Duncan cursed, “One of these days, Lucius, your playfulness is going to get you into trouble.”<br><br>Lucius was unmoved by the threat. “Life is too short to worry about such things my friend. Though I&nbsp; have to wonder if I have missed something important,” he said, his eyes moving to focus on Duncan's manner of dress. His smile widened.<br><br>“Who is she, and more importantly – are you in a mood to share? Remember that time at-...” Lucius asked as his eyes darted this way and that, as if he expected a woman to leap out of the walls to join them.<br><br>Duncan held up his hand for silence. “No. And Yes. I mean, no, there is no woman in my bed. And yes, I remember that time. We were drunk. You lasted all of four thrusts...,” Duncan said, walking past his friend and headed down the hallway. Lucius fell into step behind him.<br><br>“I remembered at least a half dozen thrusts, which would have been more if your balls wouldn't have gotten in the way. You -always- hogged the front door-...”<br><br>Duncan held up his hand again as he turned through an archway into a large, comfortable seating area. The hearth was empty and dark, as he expected, but the furniture was still quite usable, comfortable and plentiful.<br><br>“I need no reminders, Lucius. But if you are only here to torment me, I'll be sending you on your way...”<br><br>Lucius shook his head. “No, I am here to meet you. Don't you remember? We were supposed to meet Lady Blankenship and her sister....”<br><br>“....Lewellyn and Livia, yes...,” Duncan groaned, totally, completely forgetting about the arranged meeting. “How much time do I have?”<br><br>“Oh, about the same amount of time it takes you to bore a woman to death with talk of battles and war.”<br><br>Duncan snorted and shook his head. “I will clean up quickly, and will return here momentarily,” he said, making his way quickly back to the archway leading out of the room, his hand still holding the linen sheet fast around his waist.<br><br>“I'll be here,” Lucius replied as Duncan disappeared through the archway and headed back to his bed chambers. Upon entering, he closed the door behind him and turned, his eyes immediately drawn to the collar that lay on the pillow next to the one he had been resting his head on. <br><br>He moved over to a small table against the wall and poured some water into a basin in front of a large mirror. As he used a small linen cloth to douse in the water than wash himself quickly, his eyes kept taking glances at the collar's reflection in the mirror. It lay on the pillow of his bed, taunting him, luring him, silently inviting him to come touch it. He knew better than to do that. For all he knew Jazelle was already there, hiding in the shadows, waiting for him to touch it so that she could-... what? Spring some sort of trap that she had every opportunity to spring while he was at her mercy in her domain?<br><br>Duncan knew, though, that touching the collar, especially donning it again, could not be a -good thing-. She had made it apart of her wager during their game, and she certainly wouldn't have made that part of her winning-wish if it didn't benefit her somehow....<br><br>Finishing his preparations and donning a fresh new set of clothes, he felt... human again. Using a towel to dab the last bit of water from his face and neck, he then turned to face the bed, and the collar seemed brighter than ever. Memories of her, the delightful demoness, flitted through is mind. He missed her. Her intelligence, her wit, her eyes, her touch... her voice. He could hear it in his head, bits and pieces of their conversations. Had -that- been her plan all along, to impress herself upon him until he could think of nothing else? Could she have so easily ingrained herself in his mind, in his psyche, to be summoned at random and mentally tortured at the merest thought? Or had she-....<br><br>A sudden, loud pounding at his door broke the general out of his reverie...<br><br>Duncan blinked – he was standing next to the bed now, his fingertips lightly stroking the fine metal chain of the collar as if it were the skin of his closest, dearest lover. He yanked his hand away, as if he had tried to pet a venomous snake. Glancing around the room, he did not see her, nor did his surroundings change before his eyes. Glancing at his full-length mirror beside the bed, it looked normal, not watery like it had the previous night when he was whisked away on his otherworldly adventure.<br><br>Part of him was relieved.<br><br>A larger part of him was... disappointed. <br><br>The knocking at his door sounded again, and Luscious's muffled voice sounded out. “Duncan? Everything alright in there?”<br><br>“Yes,” he called out a little bit hesitantly. “I'll be right out.”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>26-11-2014, 19:49:14</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>There was a flurry of activity in the keep shortly after Jazelle's visit to the king.&nbsp; Footmen, maids, and other servants were put to work relocating the current residents of the rooms in the East Tower that Jazelle had commandeered, and getting her moved in.&nbsp; There was some confusion as to when the carriage with her things had arrived, but there were her trunks and luggage piled in the storage room just as had been said.&nbsp; The castellan and the butler would normally have taken time to ascertain how such a breach of protocol and procedure had happened, but after a chat with the lovely Lady Julieta Alerian, they both somehow found themselves no longer worried about hows or whys and oh, so eager to be helpful.<br><br>The squawking of the dispossessed previous inhabitants of the rooms were managed with equal ease, and word quickly spread that a new visitor, an envoy from the far south province of Askandria, had arrived and been given royal welcome.&nbsp; Rumors of her business in the capitol quickly followed, a mixture of mundane and the fantastical, and the lady in question seemed rather practiced at avoiding questions while she charmed the asker in her musical, accented tones.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unpacking was done under her supervision, revealing gowns and garments of the like not common in the keep, and an enviable number of accessories.&nbsp; Some chests she did not allow anyone to touch, and one small room was designated her 'study' and put off limits to even the servants and the maid the king had assigned.&nbsp; &nbsp;The locksmith was dispatched, and a new lock put upon the lady's private study, and his complaints lasted little longer than any other, once the lady had thanked him personally.<br><br>While he did so, Jazelle moved to the window and stared across to the room where Duncan yet slumbered.&nbsp; She had chosen those particular quarters with good intent, for that reason alone.<br><br>Meanwhile, the king's headache had not gone away, but he took some comfort in the fact that thus far, most of the future headaches that did not, at least, come with the benefits of strong spirits, would be directed toward the general of his armies.&nbsp; A discreet inquiry ascertained the whereabouts of General Vanzell and the company he was currently keeping. For a moment, he was tempted to simply let the succubus deal with the matter, but ... perhaps an initial show of support would make things easier.<br><br>With a wave of his hand, he went to visit his queen, and wrangled out a deal with surprising ease -- he would give Jazelle this, her advice had been spot on when it came to handling relations with his wife.&nbsp; With hardly any trouble at all, Her Royal Highness had dispatched a page to have the Ladies Blankenship summoned to her chamber where they would be kept out of the way and all it cost him was attendance at a concert that his wife would be arranging with the ladies help, and a visit to the royal bedchambers that evening ... something that had become much more palatable of late.&nbsp; He would, he decided, put off introducing Her Majesty to the Lady Alerian until after that.&nbsp; Likely Jazelle would be discreet, given her current aims, but better safe than sorry ... a lesson that he thought Duncan might well learn to emulate. While he went off to his next audience, he wondered if he envied his general, or feared for him.&nbsp; Perhaps it was a bit of both.<br><br>Jazelle had not been idle.&nbsp; Locating Duncan was a simple matter for her now, and, dressed in the finery of her new form and a gown that displayed its figure to perfection, she headed off in that direction, snagging a well-dressed courtier along the way to lend her arm as she feigned a passionate interest in seeing the gardens where Duncan currently was.&nbsp; &nbsp;It did not take her long to find him, and his companions ... and no time at all for her eyes to narrow dangerously as she beheld the two lovely ladies engaged in less than subtle flirtation.<br><br>Her escort was doing his best to persuade Jazelle that the true beauty of the garden could only be appreciated in its remotest, most secluded corner, when she halted and insisted upon an introduction.<br><br>Lord Athers weighed the alternatives - he could be rude and lose the lovely lady's company, he could graciously perform the task she had asked and perhaps lose her to Duncan or Lucius -- especially since he doubted that her business with the gathered group was with either of the Blankenship ladies, notorious flirts both who were rumored to have laid half the eligible bachelors of the keep and several more that were not so eligible between them.<br><br>Eventually, politeness wore out, and he lent Lady Alerian his arm, and guided her over, waiting for an opportunity.&nbsp; Lady Lewellyn provided it, and a generous view of her threatening-to-spill-out charms, as she turned toward him with a smile that seemed perhaps warmer than he would have expected.<br><br>"Good afternoon, ladies, lords.&nbsp; I hope that we are not interrupting.&nbsp; I have been showing Lady Alerian the gardens, as she has only recently arrived.&nbsp; Have you been introduced?"<br><br>At the indication that they had not, he drew Jazelle forward with a bit of a flourish, as if to establish that he had some prior claim to her attention by virtue of her fingers upon his arm ... a fact that Jazelle put an end to without a second glance now that he had served his purpose.&nbsp; "Lady Alerian, permit me to introduce the Ladies Blankenship, Lewellyn and Livia, valued members of the King's court, and General Duncan Vanzelle and Lucius ... Lucius ... forgive me, I seem to have forgotten your name.&nbsp; This is Lady Julieta Alerian, envoy from Askandria."<br><br>Jazelle looked Duncan up and down, as boldly as if she had every right to do so ... for, as far as she was concerned, she did, regardless of what form she was in, but first turned her attention to the ladies, fixing both their faces and their auras in her mind for further consideration.&nbsp; After greeting them with cordial nods and compliments, she gave her attention to Lucius, offering her hand and her most charming smile ... a smile that promised at least an afternoon's delight drowning in the blue depths of her eyes, and offered her hand for his kiss.<br><br><em>"It is a pleasure to meet you.&nbsp; The king has commented upon the skill and bravery of his soldiers -- he did not, however, tell me that you were so pleasing to the eye."</em><br><br>Then, withdrawing her hand, she turned to face Duncan.&nbsp; Though her face was different, her expression was not, and she did not even attempt to conceal her regard or the knowledge of who and what she was.<br><br>Her voice was a purr, an accented purr, but still very much her own when she spoke.&nbsp; "<em>The general and I are acquainted.&nbsp; He visited my home for a short time ... not so long ago.&nbsp; He is a player of Piquet to be reckoned with, so I urge you to guard your valuables and your favors most vigilantly.&nbsp; Is that not so&nbsp; ... (my) general?"</em>&nbsp; She turned slightly as she spoke to him, so that Lucius and the two ladies could not see her lips ... and only mouthed the familiar possessive that she was certain he would recognize.<br><br>No sooner had she spoken than a slightly out of breath page arrived.&nbsp; "I beg your pardon, Sirs, Ladies, but I have come from the Queen, who bade me find the Ladies Blankenship and convey her desire that the ladies attend her forthwith."<br><br>Jazelle ... now Julieta ... raised an eyebrow.&nbsp; Did she now?&nbsp; Interesting, and perhaps fortuitous as well.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-11-2014, 22:56:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan walked with Lucius down the long, elaborate hallways of the main keep towards the agreed-upon meeting location. Lucius moved with a spring in his step – obviously eager to get to the meeting that he claimed they were late for, and his enthusiasm would normally have been contagious.<br><br>Normally.<br><br>Now, though, after last night... the prospect of meeting this woman, speaking to her, getting to know her... it simply lacked any semblance of... anticipation? Duncan knew that was unfair to the lady in question, and he certainly couldn't blame her for not living up the enormity of a succubus, and somewhere in his mind Duncan knew that Jazelle would likely laugh at him for it, for allowing his visit with her to ruin the immediate possibility of pairing himself with a mortal woman. <br><br>It was enough to make his stomach turn. <br><br>“Now remember, Lewellyn is the one with the big breasts, Livia is slighter, but no less beautiful. Bigger name, bigger breasts, got it?” Lucius asked.<br><br>Duncan gave the man an odd look as if he had a third arm growing from his forehead. “I know these two ladies by more than their breasts, Lucius. Who in the world made you my second-in-command, anyway?” he asked incredulously.<br><br>“Ummm, you did,” Lucius replied with a grin, “And knowing them for more than their breasts – nice, I am sure they will find that appealing. But you don't get them -both-, Duncan. You can only have one. This isn't like that one time when you-...”<br><br>Duncan raised a hand, “Yes, yes, I know. Let's get this over with,” he urged as they turned down another corridor, descended a flight of smooth steps down to the ground level, and made their way to the courtyard. As they walked, passersby who recognized them gave them greeting, and both men were as polite as they could be in response, given that they were in a hurry to get somewhere.<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div><br>“Something wrong, general?” Lucius asked, his voice tracing a hint of concern. “You seem somewhat... under the weather, I suppose? Normally you would be itching to meet Lady Blankenship. You've often commented about her... or at least, at sampling her wares.”<br><br>Duncan sighed. “No, I'm... fine, Lucius. I am just... eager,” he said, though the way he spoke definitely contradicted any notion he gave that he was eager to meet these ladies.<br><br>“Well, if you decide you're aren't up to it – so much the better,” Lucius smiled, “Maybe -I- can be the one to get both ladies this time...”<br><br>And with that thought, they walked into the garden, a splendid, beautifully manicured place of flowers, trees, grasses, each with their own scent that filled the air the moment they walked in. There were a few other people walking slowly about, observing the colors on display. It was beautiful, but Duncan longed for something else entirely... a starry night sky, and the sound and scents of the ocean....<br><br>“There they are!” Lucius whispered to Duncan as he raised his hands to quickly adjust his clothing, making sure buttons were buttoned and whatnot. Then as one, the two men approached the ladies and made their introductions with polite proper detail, kissing the backs of palms with slight bows and curtsies all around. <br><br>The discussion was light, and Duncan had to admit both women were quite beautiful. He had met them both before, in passing mostly at one event or another hosted by their King. Yes, Duncan had taken a bit of a fancy to Llewelyn, given her comely figure and ample bosom. But now, seeing her even as nicely dressed as she was – she seemed so... plain. Beautiful, yes, and any man would be lucky to have her, he knew. <br><br>Duncan himself remained mostly quiet. He was a gentleman, for sure, and right away Lucius could sense something was really -off-. Of course, his friend took advantange of the situation, charming both of the ladies with his words, while Duncan for the most part listened as if he were only half-there. He knew he had to snap out of it at some point... he didn't even know when he'd see Jazelle again – and he harshly reminded himself that she was a succubus – the effect she was having on him, even now, was all apart of her game with him. How she would laugh! How she would titter if she could see him now, completely unmoved by glorious, sensual milky-white flesh nearly spilling from Llewellyn's corset! <br><br>Time. Duncan just needed a few days and everything would be back to normal. Until then... Lucius would have his time in the sun. Duncan smiled when expected, and he guided discussion about the two of them in Lucius's direction, pointing out his various strong points and accolades. The two girls seemed to buy it, their eyes mostly on Lucius, looking upon him with renewed interest and appreciation. Lucius relished it as well, given his enthusiasm. <br><br>Just when Lucius was into a tale about how he single-handedly saved a cadre of Duncan's finest warriors, they were interrupted by two other people. Lord Athers was the man who spoke first, and on his arm was a beautiful woman whom Duncan had never met before. So it seemed that Lord Athers still had the skill to find a beautiful woman for his arm? Duncan was surprised, not believing the man had it in him. He introduced the woman as Lady Alerian, and both men indicated that they had never made her acquaintance before. The woman introduced herself with a flourish as Lord Athers made the introductions for her. <br><br>“Lucius Von Straad,” the man smiled, biting back the remark he so&nbsp; badly -wanted- to make. That the idiot Athers couldn't remember Lucius's last name was no surprise, but Duncan imagined Athers did, but simply pretended not to remember on purpose – an 'innocent snipe' at his friend and comrade. Still, Lucius remained charming and friendly regardless.<br><br>The Lady Julieta Alerian, from Askandria... Duncan knew the name of the land, of course – far away and not really on his King's map as far as conquest or protection went. But if she was an envoy from another kingdom, she would deserve the highest respect from all of those she met here. In turn, the woman's eyes sized him up, something that Duncan was quite familiar with given his appearance and history in court. Women were constantly 'sizing him up', Lucius had told him one time, 'Sizing you up for a visit between their thighs...'<br><br>Duncan gave her a cordial nod and bow, then she turned her attention to Lucius, who took her hand and leaned over it, kissing the back of it in a charming manner. She explained what a pleasure it was to meet them, and complimented the skill, bravery – and appearance of the King's men. Lucius smiled brightly... -three- beautiful woman for the picking, each ready to share their ripe fruits with him! And Duncan was out of sorts! What marvelous luck!<br><br>“No one told me that the envoys of fair Askandria were so beautiful, or I would have asked for a reassignment months ago,” Lucius replied smoothly. Duncan refused to roll his eyes, not wanting to embarrass or belittle his friend in front of three potential bedmates for him. Duncan knew that if he were to somehow ruin his friend's chances, he'd never hear the end of it.<br><br>And then... the strangeness began.<br><br>The Lady Alerian removed her hand gently from Lucius's grasp and turned her attention to Duncan. He stepped forward, prepared to greet her formally in a similar fashion when the lady began to speak.<br><br>At first, Duncan looked confused as the envoy claimed to have been acquainted with him. No, Duncan was sure that was incorrect; if he had met -her-, he certainly would remember it. But as she continued, his eyes widened slightly, and his breath caught in his chest. He could say nothing, interject nothing, until she had finished with a question, and he knew those gathered were expecting to hear an answer. <br><br>Duncan's instincts kicked in, survival and social, at the same time as he quickly found his voice.<br><br>“Ah, yes, I recall now... a beautiful place in the southlands, by the sea, if I remember correctly. The salt air was incredibly scintillating... as was your company - which was far too brief,” he replied, his voice far more enthusiastic now, causing Lucius to blink in confusion. Of course, Lucius wasn't much put off at all – let Duncan have this wench from the south, that still left him with-....<br><br><em>“I beg your pardon, Sirs, Ladies, but I have come from the Queen, who bade me find the Ladies Blankenship and convey her desire that the ladies attend her forthwith.”</em><br><br>There was some slight confusion, surprise, a soft “Oh, my,” or two as the ladies smiled at the prospect of being summoned by the Queen. Goodbyes were said hastily, Lucius urging one (or both) ladies to call upon him at their earliest opportunity, and Llewelyn casting one silent, meaningful glance Duncan's way. Then the page and the two women were away, leaving Lady Alerian – or rather, Jazelle – in the company of the two men.<br><br>Lucius quickly took the initiative, turning back to Lady Alerian and attempted to make small talk. Off to the side, though, Duncan's gaze was riveted to the 'envoy', doing his best to control both his breathing – and the sudden swelling in his pants. She had chosen a&nbsp; very enticing image to impersonate, no doubt... yet Duncan's thoughts were elsewhere, remembering their night together... remembering the heat and the promises and the words shared. The game they had played, the wager she had lost. <br><br>And despite knowing what and who she was, an enormous part of Duncan was so incredibly relieved to see her.<br><br>“As Duncan's right-hand man, I can assure you that I am every bit the skilled Picquet player that he is, perhaps even better,” Lucius continued. “If you'd fancy a game with someone from our lands, you'd find fewer opponents more skilled at the game than myself. Shall I fetch a pack of cards, then? Or perhaps Duncan would be willing to fetch them for us while we prepare a spot to play?” he asked, giving Duncan the subtle hint to leave Lucius alone with the lady.<br><br>But Duncan's feet weren't moving. His arms were hungry to embrace her, but he couldn't do that obviously without drawing seriously confused – and curious – stares from those nearby, most noticeably Lucius. He could say nothing, his voice suddenly vacating his throat for a time, perhaps, but his dark eyes said much across the short distance between himself and Jazelle...<br><br><em>'I missed you,'</em> was among those wordless messages his eyes conveyed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>27-11-2014, 05:58:12</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Things were not, apparently going well for Jazelle's hopeful escort, who found himself virtually ignored by both the lady and the two men whose military bearing pointed out many of his own shortcomings without need of a single word.&nbsp; He gave it one last attempt, however, pressing forward.<br><br>"Lady Alerian, I hadn't finished showing you the gardens, and the loveliest flowers still await."<br><br>Jazelle dragged her eyes from Duncan's, pausing to give Lucius a tiny smile in the process, and fixed the courtier with a regretful expression that quickly replaced an exaggerated look of surprise, intimating that she'd forgotten he was there.&nbsp; <em>"You have been very kind, Lord Athers.&nbsp; It has been such a long time since I have seen General Vanzell and I have been hoping to renew our acquaintance.&nbsp; I hope that you will forgive me."</em>&nbsp; It was a dismissal that he could hardly ignore, especially after his subtle insult toward Lucius made him an easy target should he do so.<br><br>He likely wouldn't, she thought, as she watched his face struggle to contain his ire at her cavalier brush-off, though his lust would be easy enough to manipulate should she have need of him again.&nbsp; His passions were all surface, with vanity being by far the strongest -- far too easy to hold any real interest, but useful at need.<br><br>After he had stiffly bowed and taken his leave, Jazelle returned her attention to Lucius and Duncan. <em> "It seems that we have been fated to each other's company ... though I believe I will not accept your offer for a game of Piquet just now, Lucius.&nbsp; If you truly are Duncan's superior in the game, I would be far too outmatched.&nbsp; I fear that he trumped me soundly, and was sadly recalled before collecting his winnings in full."</em><br><br>She looked around, noting the cozy spot that they had arranged for the early stages of the flirtation with mild approval, and gave Duncan another sly look before speaking again to his friend.&nbsp; <em>"It is a shame that the ladies were summoned away.&nbsp; It seems that in the spirit of good relations between our two provinces, it behooves me to attempt to entertain you until they return, or your inclinations lead you elsewhere.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was rude of me to interrupt, I know, but I had so been looking forward to seeing an ... old friend."<br></em><br>Duncan's friend, or fellow soldier, was definitely an interesting man ... though somewhat lacking in focus and intensity.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were any number of ways she could have separated the two of them, but it was rather fun watching Duncan process her presence, react to it, while being collared ... so to speak ... by the social expectations of her masquerade.<br><br><em>"Perhaps the two of you would consider showing me the rest of the garden in Lord Ather's stead?&nbsp; It might be good impetus for him to remember your name ... especially when I speak of the lovely tour of the gardens that I received from two charming, handsome gentlemen , and someone whose name escapes me." </em> She gave Lucius a little wink, not at all embarrassed to make the hapless courtier the butt of her joke.<br><br>Had she not found Duncan in the midst of flirtation ... however one sided it might have been ... she likely would have made some excuse to get him to herself, but she would leave that to him if it was what he desired.&nbsp; &nbsp;For now, she was content to flirt with the both of them, and to enjoy the sensation of shared secrets in the presence of another.<br><br>She had missed him as well, and as charming as his friend might be ... Duncan's presence was like a beacon in the darkness, with or without their wager. <br><em><br>Almost as if it had been an afterthought, she turned her full attention upon him.&nbsp; "I had left a message for you regarding my arrival, Duncan.&nbsp; I hope that you were not displeased to learn that we would have ample opportunity to renew our ... friendship?"</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>27-11-2014, 11:15:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Even both Duncan and Lucius had forgotten about Lord Athers. It was an easy to understand situation – Jazelle's human form was -stunning-. Duncan, of course, was not surprised, but Lucius was also emanating massive amounts of lust, so much that it permeated the air around him. Duncan didn't notice it (though he would have easily guessed it), while someone of Jazelle's kind might have sensed it as easily as she might smell fresh bread in the oven or fresh coffee over a campfire.<br><br>Both men remained silent as Jazelle – or, Lady Alerian – took care of the 'riff raff'. Both men held back smiles – though Lucius failed at it – as she gave the older man the brush-off. Did Lord Athers really think he had a chance to entice this woman? Duncan knew better, but Lucius was almost astounded that the man had the nerve to even think to try. Of course, for such a beauty, wouldn't any man at least make an effort, even if it was doomed from the start?<br><br>Both men were impressed with how Lady Alerian handled the man, though. Many women might have been too timid or careful to risk offending the man, but Lady Alerian had handled the situation as smoothly as one might raise a mug to their lips. Duncan, again, knew why. But Lucius found himself impressed by the woman more and more.<br><br>When Athers was 'disposed of', and Lady Alerian turned to face the two men once more, they turned their eyes on her. She gently declined Lucius's offer to play Picquet, and for some reason Duncan felt.... relief? He didn't understand why, especially since Lucius was terrible at the game and Duncan had no fear that he would beat Jazelle in the slightest. How odd, this feeling then...<br><br>“The lady is too kind,” Duncan said. “I barely triumphed, and had to take many risks. But it was quite likely the most thrilling game I've ever played,” he said. If she wanted to hide other meanings in their words, he could certainly play that 'game' with her, as well, as he smiled warmly back at her.<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div><br>“Well, whatever game it was, Duncan, you should be ashamed of yourself,” Lucius said, giving his friend – and commander – a stoney gaze. “You never once mentioned meeting this delightful lady – or playing cards with her. I am hurt, Duncan – you used to share such adventure stories with me – but he's never said a word about you,” Lucius continued, turning his gaze to Lady Alerian. “Isn't that quite rude of him?” he said, though his voice was mischievous in nature and not truly demeaning.<br><br>Duncan had to resist gritting his teeth. He had often been competitive with Lucius in the past, especially over women, but it had always been playful, friendly... but in this case, Duncan certainly wanted to have nothing to do with it.<br><br>Jazelle spoke about the possibility of the two of them showing her about, to see the rest of the garden at the very least. Before she had just barely finished the sentence, Lucius was already moving to stand next to her, his arm extended, bent at the elbow in offering to her. “Why of course we'd be delighted to give you the full tour,” he said, then glanced at Duncan, “Unless, of course, Duncan has... other commitments to attend to?”<br><br>Jazelled had clearly asked them -both- to accompany her, when she could have asked for one or the other. As an envoy, it would have been a simple matter to request to speak to the general – alone, and Lucius would have thought nothing of it. Or, if she wanted Lucius's undivided attention – and wanted to give him her own – she could have simply requested to speak with him alone for any reason she could conjure, and Duncan would have felt obligated to do so. But no – she had asked for both to accompany her, and Duncan believed he was immediately onto her game. <br><br>Jealousy was an emotion he had conquered long ago. It had been accompanied by many fist-fights, shouting-matches, and destruction of property, but once he learned how some women used it as a weapon, he had taught himself how to endure it peacefully, even so far as being able to ignore it completely. Those sorts of games were boring to him now, and if a woman he was interested in was, instead, interested in another man, Duncan would shrug and head back to the ocean – because there were -thousands- of other fish in that ocean.<br><br>So why did he feel that old, familiar burn in his gut now? It reared its head like a conquered foe whom Duncan thought he had slain personally many years ago. But theer it was, burning, making his mouth dry, making him want to clench his teeth. It wasn't at a boiling-point... at least not yet, and he had no plans to let it get that far. <br><br>His chain of thought was broken by her speaking to him, directly, before they set out for the rest of the garden tour. She had left a message? When could she-.....<br><br><em>The collar.</em><br><br>He should have guessed. Duncan should have known she would come here and -stay-, instead of dropping by just to leave the device on his bed and then depart. She had -plans- to put into motion. She had her own agenda she was fulfilling. That was her way. Duncan was keenly aware she was more likely here to enjoy the turmoil she might cause, rather than coming here to see him, in particular. Was that his future, then, to be a marionette to dance and dangle for her entertainment? <br><br>So it seemed she had moved up from Picquet, to a much more personal game. He didn't know if he should be excited... or terrified. <br><br>“Ah yes, the message. How could I possibly forget?” he said with a warm smile on his face. “I am not displeased at all, Lady Alerian, and in fact I am quite thrilled to see you. I look forward to renewing our friendship. For now, though, please... you two lead the way,” he said, motioning with a nod to Lucius and Lady Alerian. “I'll follow behind,” he said. <br><br>Let her have her walk with Lucius. Let her flirt and insinuate and tease and toy with him. In the end, if she stuck to her word, it wouldn't matter anyway.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-11-2014, 19:47:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"Well, you did have ... other things on your mind," </em>the succubus commented with a slightly raised eyebrow before laying a hand lightly on Lucius' arm, and turning, outwardly at least, her attention to him. <br><br><em>"I do confess that I find your arm a much more agreeable place to be than Lord Ather's, Lucius.&nbsp; &nbsp;You don't mind if I call you by your first name, do you?&nbsp; Any friend of the general ...." </em> Jazelle paused, quickly sifting through the conversational possibilities, <em>"is certainly well worth knowing." </em>&nbsp; Despite the reputation of her kind ... a reputation that was well deserved ... she preferred truth.&nbsp; Rarely could lies compare, either in their ability to create or their ability to destroy.<br><br>The general's friend was charming, much as a half-grown puppy could be charming.&nbsp; If one could overlook the fact that a tail could and would wag as enthusiastically for one friendly hand as another, he was an ideal companion for an afternoon, or a night.&nbsp; Of all those she could have dallied with before her word had been given, he would have been among the most harmless, and would have taken the least harm from her attentions.&nbsp; Forgettable as the shape of a single perfect tree in the midst of a forest ... or the flavor of a single ordinary vegetable in a savory stew -- she doubted that he would have appreciated the observation, and to have shared it would have been as needlessly cruel as slapping a puppy.<br><br>If he lived long enough, perhaps he would find someone of import who would draw something more than generic passion from him ... or he would flit from petting hand to petting hand until the passage of time turned the sweetness cloying.&nbsp; Either end seemed possible, but she liked him enough in passing to hope for the former.&nbsp; Perhaps she would take a hand in that ... it would stave off some of the frustration and perhaps make sanity easier to retain within her clutches.<br><br>In the meantime, she encouraged his chatter, asking questions and listening attentively to the answers -- his family, his career, his ambitions, and, of course, finally directing the conversation to the seriousness of the flirtations between him .. and Ducan, by proxy, and the two ladies who had been so regrettably called away.<br><br>Was that Bertrand's work?&nbsp; Yes, she thought it was.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was a good sign, a sign that he was taking this seriously.&nbsp; &nbsp;For now, she was in control, able to reason the implications of her actions.&nbsp; She could make her points emphatically but without undue cruelty.&nbsp; How long would that last?&nbsp; Given Duncan's stubbornness, and her own, the potential for the ripples to wash outward from the stone cast was high.<br><br>She had not felt so alive ... in ages.&nbsp; Every breath, every scent, every ripple of air against her skin, every rustle of fabric, even the anticipation of tastes, even Lucius's lighthearted laughter, was music to her ears.&nbsp; It was a bawdy song when she would have preferred something more subtle, deeper, with an undertone of vibrating bass ... but music still.<br><br>What did that mean?&nbsp; Jazelle understood about the subconscious mind of these mortals -- understood and knew how to use it to her advantage at times.&nbsp; She had always considered herself above such machinations, but now ... now she was beginning to question herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;Did she truly desire a mortal as much as she was coming to desire her general, or did she ... somewhere below the realm of her conscious mind ... long for chaos?<br><br>Had she entered in to this contest because she wished to test herself and win, Duncan certainly, but a prize that would only enhance that sweetness ... or did something in her wish to lose, to be swept up into the chaos like a leaf in a hurricane ... to be free of consequences and the chains that she had used to bind herself to this realm?<br><br>In the meantime, Lucius' chatter was a pleasant distraction from her own thoughts, and Duncan's presence ... a brazier against the chill.&nbsp; She did not press him to join the conversation, as he had relegated himself to the role of chaperon or the like.&nbsp; It was enough to be near, and to be seen, to have others begin to accustom themselves to her presence.<br><br>Eventually, Lucius asked of her plans for the evening, his enthusiasm unflagging, attempting to draw her into a further commitment of time either with him alone or with the two of them, but Jazelle gently demurred. <em> "Thank you, Lucius, that would be lovely ... but I have a bit of unfinished business that must be concluded.&nbsp; Perhaps another time?&nbsp; I expect that I will not long be a stranger to your court, given the warmth of the welcome I have received."</em><br><br>Or she might.&nbsp; If Lady Alerian became dull or an inconvenience, she was not limited to the roles she could play ... save perhaps a few.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>29-11-2014, 01:42:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The raised brow from Jazelle along with her words confused Duncan for a moment. Yes, he -did- have other things on his mind: her, namely. But did she think he was focused on something else? Did she think he was focused on the two women who were just here, who had just -coincidentally- been summoned away at the most opportune time for Jazelle to introduce herself into the fray?<br><br>She turned her attention to Lucius, and Duncan was content with remaining silent for the moment. Her sweet words to Lucius may have been innocent coming from nearly anyone else, but from her, those words were a seduction... one that he noticed Lucius pick up on without fail.<br><br>“Likewise, Lady Alerian. Any acquaintance or friend of the general's, is someone whom I can't help but respect and admire,” he said, offering her a charming smile in return. Lucius, of course, was in love, especially with her eyes. And her hair. And her nose. And those -lips-. And... well, truth be told, her entire body. Lucius had always heard that the women from her part of the world were homely and stocky, but apparently those generalizations were just that, and not representative of the whole.<br><br>The three began to walk – Lucius beside Lady Alerian, her arm and his lightly entwined as Duncan followed behind like some silent retainer or chaperone. As Lucius and Lady Alerian spoke, Lucius simply began to forget that Duncan was even behind them, his attention completely focused on the intriguing woman next to him. They spoke of various random topics, anything to keep the conversation light and fluid as they walked at a leisurely pace.<br><br>Each topic that came up, Lucius threw himself into enthusiastically, ever trying to keep the Lady's attention, offering responses truthfully and entirely. To say that he was a puppy eating from her hand would have been an insult to the puppy. It was clear that the man was trying very hard to make a good, lasting impression.<br><br>His family, his career, his ambitions (to replace Duncan one day, which he openly admitted), and then a short discussion about the two women ensued.<br><br>“The two ladies were sisters, as they were thusly introduced,” he said. “Llewellyn it is said has long harbored a fancy for our good General,” Lucius added, turning his head slightly to glance back at Duncan following behind. “But today for some reason, Duncan did not seem very... reciprocal. Usually he is much more into our forays, but not today. I think perhaps he had something unsettling to eat last night, or perhaps he did not sleep well. I expected a better showing from him, given that the meeting was arranged quite some time ago – all those involved lead busy, interesting lives, of course.”<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>“Be that as it may,” Lucius continued, undaunted. “I entertained both ladies, and had them charmed to within an inch of agreeing to dine privately with me,” he claimed rather boldly. Duncan, for his part, couldn't resist any longer. He rolled his eyes at Lucius's claims. Then again, maybe he was right? Duncan hadn't been paying -that- close attention to the proceedings after all. “Surely a lady such as yourself might be interested in the same? A pleasant, high quality dinner served between the two of us, say tonight – or tomorrow night, if you already have plans for this evening?” he offered.<br><br>Duncan could only grit his teeth. <br><br>She declined, claiming a bit of unfinished business she had to attend to, but promised him that she was not going to be a stranger to court now, and that perhaps she and Lucius might have that dinner date at some other time.<br><br>Lucius took the refusal well – much better than Lord Athers had. “Completely understandable, Lady Alerian. I imagine someone of your quality will have a line of nobles awaiting their chance for dinner and more with you,” he said smoothly. “I can only hope that you will not forget me, and will remember my open invitation. I would be delighted and honored to make your acquaintance further.”<br><br>She subtle wave of lust that emanated from him would likely confirm those very words to Jazelle, who was no stranger to such things.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://4photos.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/garden-waterfall-design.jpg)</div>Lucius gently guided the pair deeper into the gardens, and the faint sounds of a small fountain could be heard fast approaching. They rounded a bend to a scenic, elaborate waterfall garden. It was a beautiful sight, masterfully put together, and if one could focus solely on the sound and sight of it, it would be easy to imagine one was out in the wilds somewhere witnessing the beauty of nature in person. <br><br>Off to the side were a pair of ornately carved benches made of smooth cedar, polished to a sheen that looked as it it might have taken years to achieve. Lucius guided Lady Alerian over to it, thinking that she might enjoy a short refreshment while looking at the beautiful scene before them. He gave Duncan a look, but the general had strode a few paces past them, standing off to the side, his gaze focused silently on the waterfall.<br><br>Unperturbed – and rather enjoying hogging the spotlight, Lucius moved to sit beside Lady Alerian and spoke.<br><br>“So what do you think of our little kingdom so far?” he asked. “Have there been any surprises? Any great disappointments?” he asked, seeking to strike up conversation. <br><br>Off to the side, Duncan heard the words, knowing all of Lucius's plots and plans. Ingratiate himself to the lady, charm her out of her dress, and frolic in bed until exhaustion claimed him. That was his usual habit, as Duncan himself had witnessed first-hand on a number of occasions. More importantly for Duncan – how much of this would Jazelle play along with? Would she break her word on the first day since their wager, and meet Lucius to find out what the deputy-general might be like in the same situation Duncan had been in the previous night?<br><br>It took some amount of control, but Duncan was able to keep those thoughts and others like it at bay. Jazelle was a creature of chaos – by definition in his eyes, she would do whatever she wished to do.... She did not belong to him, and he did not belong to her. Somehow he began to doubt that their wager, her promise, would mean anything at all when it came to her simply being what she was...<br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-11-2014, 23:52:29</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"Yes, I imagine that the two of you are fancied by any number of ladies.&nbsp; Perhaps if their business with the Queen is not extensive, you will be able to recapture your advantage ... I am certain, were I free, that I would not so easily let you escape."</em><br><br>Jazelle gave Duncan a sidelong look from beneath her lashes, but did not attempt to drag him from his brooding.&nbsp; Lucius was rather charming, and his boyishness had not yet quite reached the level of cloying sweetness. <em> "I have had only scant opportunity to form an opinion, Lucius.&nbsp; &nbsp;There has been little time to be surprised, and even less for disappointments.&nbsp; The scenery changes, but it has been my experience that people are much the same the world over -- they love, they hate, they laugh and cry, work and seethe ... once you get beyond the mannerisms and customs, that which lies beneath is not so terribly different, is it?"</em><br><br>She turned just slightly so that she could watch Duncan, who seemed busily engaged in walling himself off, creating a fortress from which to mount a defense against an attack that had not yet been launched.&nbsp; Perhaps he was already regretting his wager, sorry that he had not simply retreated to the bed to wait out the remaining hours before the cock's crow.&nbsp; Had he done so,&nbsp; then perhaps she would not be here now, complicating his life and interrupting his conquests.<br><br>Jazelle turned her eyes back to Lucius, smiled, and offered her hand.&nbsp; <em>"You have been very kind to spare the time to welcome me, and make me feel very much at home here.&nbsp; Unfortunately, I do have a previous commitment, and should I linger longer, I will be late."</em>&nbsp; She did take the opportunity to liberate a strand or two of his hair, brushed from his lapel, for later use ...&nbsp; his own charms would have been enough, she was sure, to entice both ladies to his bed given the one's disappointment, but this way she could ensure that the interest was redirected in a much more emphatically.<br><br>Jazelle had not lied about her commitment.&nbsp; There was still the matter of reporting her failure, though she was certain that it was known already.&nbsp; She was no longer the sole avenue of communication between the king and the wizard, and Bertrand would have likely communicated his displeasure over the turn of events.&nbsp; Even so, paying her debt could not be done by proxy -- not in this case, though she would gladly have skipped the scolding that was sure to ensue.<br><br>Lucius was not so willing to let another conquest slip from his fingers without a fight, but he was confident enough in his own charms that he did not insist on escorting her to where ever it was that she needed to go.&nbsp; Just as well, as it would have required an unnecessary expenditure of energy had he insisted.<br><br>Once she had taken her leave of Lucius, she turned her attention to Duncan, though she did not approach him or seek to press up against those walls with the cement still wet between the stones. <em> "It has been good to see you again, General.&nbsp; Perhaps another time we will have the opportunity to renew our acquaintance."</em><br><br>It was somewhat amusing that he had been so much more certain upon a battlefield strange to him than he was upon ground that he knew.&nbsp; It was also strange to her way of thinking that he seemed more constrained than he had when the collar had commanded obedience.&nbsp; &nbsp;A cynic might have thought that hilarious, almost as if he had put more trust in her when she had held power over him than now, when she wore the chains of his binding.<br><br><hr><br>The wizard's library was no more tidy or free from dust than it had been upon her previous visit.&nbsp; The summoning circle was in the cleanest corner, the floor swept clean to allow the markings to complete their circuit.&nbsp; Though he was a man, he did not desire her... a circumstance that precluded her traveling to him in the manner she would have employed to visit Duncan.<br><br>"Are you insane?!!?"<br><br>The shout dislodged a precarious stack of books upon the edge of a table, sending them skidding to the floor.&nbsp; One came precariously close to the circle that she stood inside, and only a quickly placed shoe deflected it.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was little sense in putting him to the trouble of reconstructing it ... especially since he was nearly as stubborn as Duncan, and she might well have need of him before he would go to the trouble of providing her with an easy access to his workshop again.<br><br><em>"Possibly," </em>she answered mildly, without rancor, as she stepped from the circle, bending down to pick up the tome. <em> "Practical Guide to Aphrodisiacs - From Pixie Dust to Succubus Sweat -- really, Carlysle?&nbsp; &nbsp;Your choice of reading material leaves much to be desired.&nbsp; I thought you had little interest in such things."</em><br><br>"Don't change the subject.&nbsp; You were to gain the general's trust, not enslave yourself to him.&nbsp; What were you thinking?&nbsp; Or should I ask what you were thinking with?!&nbsp; As if I couldn't guess."&nbsp; He reached out and snatched the tome away, slinging it toward the far corner of the room.<br><em><br>"What's done ... is done."</em><br><br>Her somber tone punctured through the wizard's anger, leaving him to stand there with his hands clenching and unclenching slightly. &nbsp;"I expected you to assure me that you had it all under control, that soon he would be eating out of your hand and there was naught to worry about.&nbsp; That would have scared me badly enough.&nbsp; &nbsp;Does this mean that you're taking this ... debacle ... seriously, at least?"<br><em><br>"I'm taking it very seriously.&nbsp; Of that you can be assured."</em><br><br>There was a long period of silence, until the wizard sighed, and began to laboriously straighten the books that had fallen to the floor.&nbsp; &nbsp;"What can I do to assist?"<br><br>Jazelle allowed herself to smile.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 00:49:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Lucius smiled broadly at Lady Alerian's assertion that the two men were fancied by any number of ladies. He shrugged slightly. “Guilty as charged,” he said, casting a glance over to Duncan who, by Lucius's definition, looked positively bored. Of course that only spurred him on – he'd not have to worry about competing for the Lady's attentions for once, and he was quietly grateful for that. He positively glowed at her further assertion that, had she been free from commitments, she would not have let him 'escape' so easily.<br><br>Lucius beamed. Duncan's jaw clenched.<br><br>“Well, as the saying goes – today is but one day, and tomorrow is full of promise,” he said. “Perhaps tomorrow evening would be a more suitable time to continue our acquaintance?” he asked. “Or earlier in the day, if you prefer. As Ducan can attest, I am ready at -all- hours of the day, ever vigilant and eager to do my duty,” he offered smoothly, bowing his head slowly, once, in deference to her. <br><br>Duncan knew he should not care, and if anything, his frustration was directed more at himself than at Jazelle or his comrade Lucius. Jazelle was just being what she was – a creature of pleasure, seeking it wherever and whenever she could, whether it was the pleasure of conversation that lead to pleasures of the body or not, did not matter. He couldn't help but feel his mind running rampant, his imagination unleashed – the idea of her breaking her word -and- doing so with his second in command, his most trusted comrade and friend, burned deep within his very being... especially given that she had not even shared herself with -him- to this point.<br><br>For his part, Lucius was just innocently pursuing a beautiful woman, something Duncan himself had done countless times. It didn't matter to Lucius if 'Lady Alerian' was a friend of Duncan's or not. Hell, if Duncan had a beautiful sister, he'd likely be pursuing her as well. Lucius even enjoyed the pursuit of otherwise 'unavailable women', and given Duncan's single transgression in that regard, he simply was in no position to judge his friend for his choices.<br><br>No, Duncan was angry with -himself- for letting this bother him. He knew he should proceed as if nothing were different. He was angry for letting himself think and feel things that were foolishly naïve, and that, more than anything, rankled him deeply. He was a heartless warrior on the battlefield, and even though -this- battlefield was different, it was one he knew – he needed to keep that in mind, and simply did what he did best.<br><br>“Wise words, my lady,” Lucius responded to her comments about various peoples and cultures. “It is true that, at the base of all men and women there is a sort of commonality. We all feel fear, anger, sadness, in one way or another. The luckiest ones amongst us feel love...,” he paused dramatically, smiling at her. “But there are also significant differences, however small, that affords each person a measure of uniqueness, at least, that is my theory. Duncan?” he called out, turning his gaze to his friend. Duncan in turn swiveled his head to regard the other two, and forced a smile.<br><br>“I agree completely,” he said, nodding politely in their direction before returning his gaze back to the water.<br><br>“Hmmm, well, there you have it. Duncan the philosopher hath spoken,” Lucius replied, turning his eyes back to the delicious lady before him. “I hope that your meeting goes well, and whoever it is you're meeting with does not steal your heart -too- swiftly,” Lucius concluded. If she was as new to the people of this land as she claimed, she -might- simply be 'shopping' for someone – or several someones – to keep her... entertained... during her visit. Lucius sincerely hoped he might be included on her list of candidates.<br><br>The Lady Alerian bid her farewells, first to Lucius who bowed deeply to her as she turned to depart. When she addressed Duncan, expressing her wishes, the general turned to face her, smiled, and bowed as well. “Perhaps,” he replied to her in return, then both men watched as she turned and departed. As soon as she was gone, Lucius sauntered over with a light step to stand with his friend and comrade.<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div><br>“Remind me in the future to accompany you on all such diplomatic endeavors,” Lucius said. “My... she was a -delicious- looking woman, wasn't she?” <br><br>Duncan sighed. “Her bite is -far- worse than her bark,” he said. “You would do well to be wary of her, Lucius.”<br><br>Lucius turned his eyes to the General's face, his brow furrowing, his playful mood muted for a time. “Truly? She seemed rather fond of you... she seemed rather fond of both of us, actually. I think as far as 'sharing' goes, she would be one that I would most surely-....”<br>“Shut up, Lucius,” Duncan commanded sharply, far more sharply than he had intended. Lucius did go silent, at least for the moment, but not because of the command itself, but rather the tone in which it was given.&nbsp; The man quickly grew serious.<br><br>“I... apologize if I have given offense, my friend,” Lucius replied, his tone serious now. He was confused, concerned, and quite surprised by Duncan's mood, to say the least.<br><br>Duncan sighed, his shoulders sagging somewhat. “No, Lucius, it is I who must apologize for my rudeness. It was uncalled for. The... Lady Alerian and I... have a sort of history... as small as it might be.”<br><br>“Oh?” Lucius replied, his curiosity rising. “Care to elaborate?”<br><br>Ducan almost laughed. In now way would he elaborate about the night he had spent as her 'guest'. But he quickly searched for the right words, perhaps some sort of equivalent he could share to keep Lucius from becoming any more suspicious.<br><br>“We enjoyed each other's company... for a night,” he said.<br><br>Lucius instantly smiled a wolfish grin, “Ahhhh, I knew it! I knew there was something else you weren't telling me. I can smell these things, Duncan,” he said. <br><br>“No, it wasn't like... that,” the general replied. “But, it was such that I thought... I felt... I...” His words failed him at that point, but Lucius filled in the rest for him.<br><br>“You felt a connection...,” he said. “And she surprised you today, without warning that she was visiting, that she didn't come to see you first.”<br><br>Duncan remained silent. Lucius's assumptions were close enough.<br><br>“I understand that feeling, and sad to say – it sounds as if your meeting with her, your one night... meant more to you than it did to her,” he spoke, but his voice was not mocking nor disingenuous. “Perhaps she simply wishes to tour the field for herself... she may yet call on you,” he added.<br><br>Duncan took a breath – and let it out. “Perhaps you are right.”<br><br>Lucius regained his smile again, cheerful once more as if a switch had been flipped. “Of course I am right, and I shall make you a promise, my friend – if she comes to me instead – I promise I will be gentle with her.”<br><br>Duncan glared at his friend. “Lucius? Sometimes I want to hit you. Hard.”<br><br>Lucius shrugged. “It is difficult to be so loved sometimes. A weight and a burden, I assure you. Shall we go off to see if we can find out how the Blankenship ladies are faring?” he asked, changing the subject to something hopefully more positive for his friend.<br><br>And together the two men departed the gardens, leaving as they had arrived, with just themselves.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 21:20:15</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>It was late before Jazelle concluded her business, to noone's satisfaction completely.&nbsp; Certainly, the accusation that she had lost her mind had some validity.&nbsp; She, a succubus who had had more men than she could count, could have two or three for no more effort than a smile, or a dozen at the snap of her fingers and the slightest exertion of magic that was innate to her as pheromones were to certain insects, certain species, had been smitten by a stubborn mortal man ... smitten enough to have bound herself to him.<br><br>As the wizard had pointed out, bindings by vows and words were considerably easier to break than those enforced by arcane or divine means.&nbsp; He also pointed out that General Vanzell likely had little interest in unleashing a half-starved succubus upon his own forces, upon those whom he had been engaged to protect.&nbsp; He had even gone so far as to discuss morality with Jazelle, presenting scenarios where his moral 'good' was best served by the revocation of a promise badly given. <br><br>In the end, nothing that she had heard had changed her mind.&nbsp; He had offered assistance, but&nbsp; ... aside from a charm or two to implement her stash ... she asked for nothing, save for his assurance that he would intervene should she truly forget herself ... should she remember only what she had been.&nbsp; His biting remarks about her sense of timing had not truly stung.&nbsp; Wars came and wars went, and if there was not one on the horizon there would be another.<br><br>When she left, she took care to not smudge the summoning circle ... and she made no more observations about his choice of reading material.<br><br>It was easy now to find her way back to the tower room, which was as she had left it aside from a small bouquet of flowers that soaked in a vase near the window, courtesy of the servant who had been delegated to her, to support her claim of status and likely to keep an eye on her activities as well.&nbsp; Accompanying the flowers was an invitation to dinner, which she glanced at and left unanswered as she shooed the servant off with gentle, carefully controlled patience.<br><br>Alone, she moved to the window, and looked out to where the general's room lay easily within her view.&nbsp; They were both stubborn, certainly, and there were truths within the other adjectives that she had heard that day.&nbsp; Yet she was what she was, just as was he.<br><br>What she had not expected was how cold the distance felt between them, strong enough ...&nbsp; almost ... to almost quieten the ache.<br><br><em>"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud."</em><br><br>A lovely sentiment it was, words from some scholar or bard, likely written to soothe the pangs of unrequited desire, to salvage some measure of self-respect from the loss.&nbsp; It bore little resemblance to what she had seen over the years, this thing called love.&nbsp; Perhaps mothers loved that way, or those who were never desire's prisoner.&nbsp; Perhaps.&nbsp; Or perhaps it was little more than a conceit, like so many other noble words.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-11-2014, 22:44:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan and his partner in crime, Lucius, did not fare well in their further pursuit of the Blankenship sisters. The trail led them to the Queen's private quarters, where the guards denied them entrance – very respectfully, of course, knowing who the general was. Duncan at that point seemed all too welcoming to the end of the hunt, which distressed Lucius to some degree.<br><br>“Duncan, I am nearly convinced you wish to keep your wick dry tonight. Even if that is true for some unfathomable reason, could you possibly be a good side-kick and help -me- out here?” Lucius asked in an almost – nearly – somewhat plaintive voice. The tone of it forced Duncan to smile, and take on a very faux sympathetic look.<br><br>“Lucius...whatever will you do, should you be forced to your room alone? You have two hands – I suggest become reacquainted with them,” he teased. <br><br>Lucius snorted as they walked away from the Queen's quarters. “What? I haven't had the need to do that in -ages-. I've.... outgrown that,” he chided. “But if I am unable to find companionship here, I might be forced to head to the Burroughs, delving deeper into my list of... alternate forms of enjoyment.”<br><br>“You mean whores,” Duncan said, a hint of distaste in his mouth.<br><br>“You don't have to be so -cruel- about it, general,” Lucius responded, “But yes, whores. There is something to be said for a&nbsp; woman eager to earn her silver. They will do things that women like lady Blankenship doesn't even know -how- to do, I assure you. Duncan, you should really come with me, if I am forced into such -dire- circumstances. Not only to keep me safe from harm, but to also let off a bit of your angst, as well. I'll even cover the charges. Perhaps two ladies would suffice? Mahap, a third, if your appetite is that strong?”<br><br>In truth, Duncan's appetite had never been stronger. Jazelle had lit fires within, and those flames would not be so easily extinguished, even by his own hand – literally. <br><br>“I am truly not feeling it today, my friend. Perhaps another time, and I appreciate the offer,” he responded genuinely.<br><br>Lucius shrugged. “As you wish. That just means more for me,” he smiled. “I will part ways with you here, then, and bid you a fair evening. And Duncan... do not let your meeting with your old friend drag you down,” he urged.<br><br>Duncan nodded, wondering how much of Lucius's encouragement was from genuine friendship, or how much of it was from the subtle hope that Lucius thought that he might score intimate time with the Lady Alerian herself.<br><br>Duncan wagered it was more of the latter.<br><br>They parted ways, and part of Duncan was grateful for the silence now. He needed time to think. He made a straight course to his quarters, reaching them with only a few random people giving him short pauses with greetings and well-wishes. Ever one to be polite in such times, he returned the kindness each time, until finally he reached his chambers with a heavy sigh.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Jazelle. Here, in -his- world.<br><br>What was her plan? What did she intend to do? Perhaps she sought to shame him, embarrass him into relieving her of the wager she had lost? That was most likely it, the most common sensical reason he could imagine. What other reason might she have to come here?<br><br>Selfishly, he hoped she had come to see him, to be near him, for other reasons. It was a silly notion, he knew, entering his chambers and shutting the door securely behind him. Perhaps it was vanity or arrogance, but he had hoped that he had made some sort of... impression... upon her. Perhaps even attracted her somehow. But he quickly reminded himself of the countless men she'd been with, which meant countless personalities, countless bodies – which she had likely chosen herself. As such, Duncan realized that he was likely just another grain of sand on the beach for all intents and purposes. <br><br>He was nothing special to her. <br><br>Duncan journeyed out onto his balcony, surveying the scene below. He had absolutely no idea where Lady Alerian's quarters were, at least not yet. He would soon summon one of his attendants and set the word out for them to find her. Hunched over to lean against the railing with his forearms, Duncan's eyes were cast downward, as if he expected – or hoped? - to see Jazelle strolling on the grounds below. It didn't occur to him to look about him – or across from him, possibly giving him the chance to spy the very woman he was thinking about.<br><br>What -damage- could she do? She was incredibly cunning, that much she had made plain. She also enjoyed games... and Duncan theorized that 'games' and political machinations might very well be something that might 'entertain' someone who was, for all he knew, immortal. <br><br>But he knew as he stood there gazing down on the various people going to and fro, going about their lives, that she had the potential to do a lot more damage than he wanted to admit. His initial reaction to seeing her had proven that much to him, slapping him across the cheek as if she had used a cold, wet hand herself to do it.<br><br>Thinking of her with another -burned- him. It awoke feelings he had long ago through he had outgrown. He had taken no wife, paired himself with no woman for any length of time – jealousy simply wasn't something he chose to feel. But sometimes, he realized, it chose -you-.<br><br>She also had not come to see him... but wait... she -had-. The collar on his pillow was -proof- of that... she had been in his room, and suddenly he glanced around, as if expecting to find tunnels and secret doors open all around him. Remembering who and what she was, he quickly realized she likely had the power to go wherever she pleased... just as she apparently had the power to bring him into -her- realm, as she had demonstrated the previous night.<br><br>She had visited his room and left the collar... but nothing else. No note, no gentle rousing of him from his slumber to greet him. She was here for -other- reasons, then, and perhaps the collar was just a subtle reminder to him of the power she wielded. <br><br>It was all very maddening, but heady at the same time. No woman had drawn this sort of reaction from him before – ever. He wanted her. He desired her. But it went much deeper than the simple hunger for the flesh of an exotic beauty. He had been attracted to her in other ways, as well, and as he mulled that over, relaxing on his balcony as he was, his mind began to panic.<br><br>No... he -couldn't- love her! It wasn't possible. He had -just- met her, and not to mention she was a creature of the abyss! If the stories were true, she'd be an insatiable whore – his mind flashing back briefly to the discussion he had had with Lucius. <br><br>No – Jazelle was not capable of such things. She had admitted it herself. Duncan mentally tried to reel himself in, denying it, reminding himself of the long list of reasons it was folly to even ponder such a thing. And of course, the worst reason of all...<br><br>If someone like Jazelle, with her intelligence and cunning, even so much as -sniffed- the fact that he had feelings for her... He sighed, trying to recollect a time in his life where possible utter doom and destruction were heaped so high upon his very doorstep....<br><br>And came up empty.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 02:18:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>She did not have to wait long before her curiosity was satisfied.&nbsp; Duncan emerged out onto the balcony of his quarters ... alone.&nbsp; &nbsp;His posture was not one of confidence or victory, but rather that of a man drawing in against the expectation of a blow.<br><br>Jazelle did not like seeing him like that.&nbsp; It was preferable to seeing the buxom woman spilling out of her dress coming out to join him, and likely much healthier for the woman in question, but not by much.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had someone else made him look like that, the succubus would have been inclined to pitch them headfirst from a lofty vantage-point.&nbsp; Was she responsible for the almost dejected air that he wore?<br><br>The idea was ... disturbing, and exciting, all at once.&nbsp; His doubts of her word were understandable, certainly.&nbsp; Had he simply accepted the word of a succubus, any succubus, she would have branded him a fool -- and yet, it stung that he did doubt her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had she moved amongst mortals for so long that she had become infected by their illogic?<br><br>Moreover, he had declared that he would decide when he would relent, and that she would love him for it.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>That was the crux of the issue, even more than the limitation of the wager.&nbsp; That had not been part of of the actual bet, but had been added after, not a condition of the wager.&nbsp; She had promised that she would lie with no other man so long as Duncan lived, she had not promised anything more -- and yet, she was also cognizant of the fact that the collar that they had trapped him with had offered the potential for a similar control.&nbsp; He had made some progress in trusting what she would not do with it, and yet the main source of her resistance was her distrust of what he would do with a similar level of control.<br><br>Had he earned that distrust?&nbsp; Or was she doing him a disservice in preparing for the worst outcome.<br><br>Was she really feeling *guilt* for causing him distress?<br><br>What she did know was that the distance between them was not what she wanted, whether proximity led to more verbal jousting, bickering, or simply a return to their previous, courteous exploration.<br><br>Jazelle backed away from the window, and into the shadows.&nbsp; It was easier this time than the last to emerge in Duncan's room, to step from the darkest shadows, her slippered feet making barely a whisper of sound as she closed the distance.&nbsp; She did not reach out to touch him, though she wanted to.&nbsp; She had not the right, despite their wager, and despite his desire.<br><br><em>"So contemplative, my general?" </em> The accented, affected, speech that she had used for Julieta evaporated, though the form remained.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had promised that he would not again see her true form until he he claimed his wager, and whatever he thought, she would not willingly break her word -- at least not so long as she had a choice.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"I begin to worry that you have lost your voice.&nbsp; Did you, perhaps, catch a chill from the sea air?"</em><br><br>She did not ask after Lucius, or waste any time wondering how he fared.&nbsp; &nbsp;With any luck, he would be cock deep in one of the ladies of the court,&nbsp; with another in reserve.&nbsp; Him, she did not begrudge his pleasures, adorable puppy that he might be, and she rather hoped he would cease bringing women to the general's attention before she had to take stronger steps to discourage him -- marital bliss might take more time than she had patience, even if she rather thought it would suit him well with the right sort of woman.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 03:11:39</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan was not at all surprised to hear her voice behind him, the very woman he was thinking of. She had dropped all pretense of an accent, reverting back to using the voice he had become so accustomed – and attached – to. She was as playful as ever as her words gently teased him about his contemplative state. <br><br>The urge to snap at her was quelled quickly. Duncan had the distinct impression that one of two things would happen if he allowed her to make him emotionally demonstrative in her presence. Either she would give him that knowing smile as if she had won something by causing him such distress, or she would frown, disinterested in a man who exhibited such traits. She enjoyed the verbal back and forth. He doubted she would much enjoy something she would like construe as 'whining' or 'whimpering'. And in his mind, he was certain that any display of jealousy would be gobbled up by her like some delicious desert.<br><br>“No, my voice is fine,” he said, still leaning against the railing, but turning his head to regard her. “And the only chill I've felt since returning from my visit with you, is the absence of your body next to mine as I slept,” he said, which was true, despite it not being the -entire- truth perhaps.<br><br>He wouldn't give her the pleasure of showing any weakness. He would hide it away – like a feint on the battlefield. And he reminded himself again, as he had before she arrived – she could never know how he truly -felt- about her. He was convinced that would be his undoing, his soul rendered spent.<br><br>His eyes looked her up and down now, in privacy he had no qualms about such things. “You picked a pleasing shape, again. You seem to have an eye for good taste,” he said. “You certainly have smitten Lucius with but a few minutes of speech, and even Lord Athers was all but throwing himself at your feet. Oh, how you must enjoy such things,” he said, his voice gentle, sounding as if he were simply teasing her in return. She did not ask about Lucius, though she could very well have just come from the man's quarters for all Duncan knew. If she had, he knew he would hear all about it very soon. <br><br>Ultimately, he was pleased to see her, and felt an incredible sense of... relief... that she was here with him now. That meant she wasn't with Lucius, nor some other man of the court, and that felt like a hint of a balm on some old wound. He knew he had to stop this, had to distance himself from these... feelings, feelings he had only felt once before. That's how he had recognized them, and that's why they had taken such a strong hold on him now.<br><br>And the one time he felt this way in his life, it had ended in disaster. Looking calmly at the otherworldly creature standing a few paces from him, he could only imagine how much worse the end of -this- tale might be...<br><br>“How long do you -truly- intend to stay?” he asked, hoping that the hint of 'hope' in his voice was not as obvious as it had sounded to his own ears.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 04:20:11</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"I am glad to hear it,"</em> Jazelle answered mildly, without closing any of the distance between them.&nbsp; That she would have liked to do so was unimportant.&nbsp; He was used to identifying weakness and exploiting it - much like her sisters.&nbsp; She wondered if he would have been flattered had she made the comparison aloud.<br><em>"There is very little of my choice, Duncan.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is not my eyes that my shape need please - the forms I take are shaped by those who desire most strongly -- a little here a little there, to avoid rousing suspicion.&nbsp; Sometimes I choose a more familiar form, sometimes less."</em><br><br>Without hurry, Jazelle turned and surveyed the general's quarters, before leaving the open air of the balcony for the relative privacy of the inside, settling herself gracefully upon the corner of his bed.&nbsp; Whether he chose to follow or not was of little moment.<br><em><br>"Lucius would be smitten by any woman with a halfway pleasing face and proportionate body ... or the converse ... so long as she gave any indication that charming her out of her clothes would not be too involved a task ... and Lord Athers believes his wealth and money a suitable substitute for personality and charm.&nbsp; Sadly, he has encountered those who have shown his theory has some substance ... he provided a convenient arm, and perhaps the idea that I might have fancied him, were it not for you and Lucius, might bolster his confidence enough to approach someone more suited to his reach."</em><br><br>Jazelle shrugged mildly.&nbsp; Lord Athers did not figure in to her concerns very highly, and she had not liked him enough to wish to better his circumstances.&nbsp; Should she see him again, she would not hesitate to brush him aside if it suited her, or to use him if doing so served her purpose.&nbsp; That she had learned well from observing the behavior of mortals.<br><em><br>"How long, my general?&nbsp; Have you forgotten your wager won so soon?&nbsp; From now, until the end of your days, I will never be far away ... certainly not so far that I cannot be at your side in an instant, or that I will not know if another seeks to claim that which is mine." </em>&nbsp; Her voice was low, still light and pleasant, but the succubus' eyes fixed on him from beneath her lashes, dark, intent, without the slightest hint of humor.&nbsp; Had he truly thought that he could thus bind her and continue to dally with whomever caught his fancy?<br><br><em>"You have bound me to you as securely as the collar you donned last night bound you to me, and not merely for the space of a few hours."</em><br><br>She did not say that her word would hold as long as she yet had the power to choose her own path.&nbsp; Should she fail, she would trust to the wizard's word, to bring her back if it could be done ... though for the first time she wondered if she had fully comprehended what failure would mean.&nbsp; A tickle of ... something ... evoked a prickle of gooseflesh along her arms and spine, which caused her to frown and rub her hands, crossed, over the affected area that she could easily reach.<br><br>It was ... a peculiar feeling.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 05:08:42</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle claimed that her appearance was not by choice – and that very little was actually by her choice. He glanced at her, not fully believing it – or at the very least not fully understanding why. He shouldn't be surprised, of course. It was in her nature to please – and in turn, be pleased. Not only that, but pleasing others would likely get her precisely whatever she wanted, whatever her desire was at that particular moment. <br><br>“I see. So you take the form of whatever others desire you to be,” he said gently, without a trace of resentment or disappointment in his voice. “Except me, of course...”<br><br>He remembered well her promise, which she had made in response to their wager. Jazelle would refuse him the chance to see what -he- desired.... yet she readily assumed a form that -others- desired... more proof to him that his wishes mattered little – unless he won them in a game of chance. Or, it simply meant that there were others here whose desires mattered – more-.<br><br>His eyes narrowed slightly for a moment... others... surely he was not her first conquest here, surely he was not the first to play her game. But he listened passively as she began to detail the wants and desires of Lucius and Lord Athers, and he had to admit that she had both men pegged very precisely. <br><br>“The amount of effort Lucius puts into the pursuit of any given woman is directly relative to the arousal his would-be lover inspires in him. Sadly, my dear... you will be on his mind for quite some time to come,” he said with a slight grin. “He is persistent, resourceful, intelligent, and often underestimated. Factors that explain part of the reason why he is my second in command... and, yes, before you need to say it,” he held up a hand as if to stop her, “He is handsome, as well, I must admit. It does not surprise me that he catches your eye.”<br><br>“Lord Athers is a different kind of animal. He constantly seeks women half his age – or younger. He tosses around his money as easily as he tosses around that gut of his, and sadly enough – often it works,” he said. “He is a widower, and the only woman he's ever truly loved died during the Sarkoza raids five years ago. They were vacationing on the River Sang, and were overrun, and she was killed during the attack. He blames me, of course, being the head of the armies. But if it is his good graces you seek to delve into, then by all means – simply assume a shape similar to his dearly departed wife, and he'll be eating out of your hand, as well,” he said.<br><br>Her response to his query about the length of time she'd be remaining in the city definitely caught him off guard. He assumed that she had some task, some... agenda that she was seeking to fulfill, and toying with him was merely a bit of side-show entertainment. She set him straight, and he could sense the tension in her voice – she didn't like this, she didn't like keeping her word, not in this case. Slowly he turned and casually walked back off the balcony and into his home, shutting the large glass-paned door behind him.<br><br>Duncan walked toward her, stopping when he stood before her, and leaned over. His arms extended, his hands moved to rest on the edge of the bed to either side of her hips, his face inches from her own.<br><br>“I would never forget such a thing,” he said, his voice above a whisper. “And I can't help but wonder... is that why you are here, now, in my chambers? Do you ache and throb even now, hoping I might be like the rest and throw myself at you?” he asked, his voice as gentle as it had been before. “Is that why you look at me like that, why your voice hides an intensity just beneath the surface? Is that why your hands cloy together along your arms even now?”<br><br>His lips closed in on hers – stopping just short. “All you need to do is simply -ask- me, Jazelle. All you need to do is -tell- me what you need... and I will scratch that itch like no other.”<br><br>Her choice of words had been interesting... she displayed a possessiveness that he had not expected. “...if another seeks to claim that which is mine.” Duncan couldn't help but wonder -just- what she meant by that... and though he wanted to ask and explore that even more, he knew better than to do so.<br><br>Duncan strode over to a small set of shelves in the corner of his bedroom, and turned up an ornate looking goblet. He reached for one of several bottles and pulled the cork from it, then put a small amount of the liquid into the glass. He turned at the waist to look back at her. “Would you care for a drink, my dear? I find myself suddenly needing something... cool.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 20:39:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>The succubus had remained quiet while Duncan spoke, her eyes upon him, though her movements continued, subtle shiftings that did not change the intensity of her gaze or the faintly amused expression upon her face that faded into serenity as he leaned down toward her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Only when he offered her a drink did she finally speak.<br><br><em>"No.&nbsp; Thank you.&nbsp; I am not overly warm at the moment."</em><br><br>Once her silence was broken, Jazelle went on to address the matter of least import first, and of his clarification of Lucius she made no reference at all.<br><br><em>"Lord Athers knows what it is to love?&nbsp; Interesting.&nbsp; &nbsp;Now deprived of it, he seeks to purchase an imitation that requires nothing of him that he does not have readily at hand.&nbsp; &nbsp;And yet he eschews those who readily sell their favors for those who would not likely barter for his wares.&nbsp; I wonder ... does he hate his wife now, for leaving him?&nbsp; &nbsp;Though I would hazard that she likely had little choice in the matter."</em>&nbsp; Her question was not to Duncan at that point, but more to herself.&nbsp; Perhaps she had dismissed the courtier too quickly as a source of potential wisdom ... or perhaps Duncan was simply assuming some of his own experiences upon the droll little man.&nbsp; Perhaps she would investigate further, satisfy her curiosity while this game played itself out.<br><em><br>"My form incorporates your desires, as well, Duncan ... else you would not look at me with hunger in your eyes, hunger that I can yet sense.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps you have forgotten this, then --&nbsp; my true form was yours for the asking as well, until it was demanded, a condition to be delivered when you had decided ... have decided ... that I have suffered sufficiently for my testing of you." </em>Jazelle's answer was delivered just as softly, without any more intonation than if she had been discussing the weather, though the expression in her eyes belied any such casual disinterest.<br><br>She stood, and walked, stalked, a slow, easy perimeter around the bed, her hand never leaving the smooth surface, until her back was to the shadows from which she had emerged.<br><br><em>"You ask if I ache for you ... I do.&nbsp; I ached to have you when nothing truly hung in the balance, when I was replete.&nbsp; All that possessing you, however ... superficial and brief ... such possession would have been, would have been to let the collar you wore bend you to my will.&nbsp; &nbsp;Now, it is I who wear a collar, and you who hold the chain, not until the cock crows but until death's call.&nbsp; And though you cannot compel me to your will through magic, you wait to see whether my word can, to see how far it, and you, might bend me before I break ... before you decide if bending will suffice or breaking is in order.&nbsp; A day, you said ... a week, a month ... and did you hear 'a year ... years' in the silence of your thoughts, my general?&nbsp; Now, I have but to ask, to speak my need.&nbsp; Is that a weakening of your resolve, or do you merely lay out the bait so that the next time 'to ask' becomes 'to beg', a logical progression?"</em><br><br>Jazelle's head raised, and her smile returned, though the warmth in her eyes was faint.&nbsp; <em>"It is a dilemma that poses several interesting questions, is it not?&nbsp; What is the value of an ache, a want, a need?&nbsp; Does its value ebb and flo with circumstance, or is it constant?&nbsp; Needs burn hot; do they also burn cold?&nbsp; What cost is too great to pay for an answer, or ... to have an itch scratched?"</em><br><br>And how great a price would be demanded, for understanding, not only of herself, but of him as well?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>01-12-2014, 23:05:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle declined his offer of a drink – that and her words sent him a message loud and clear, and he decided to tread lightly for the time being. Better that than surrendering his very self to her, right? That's what he kept insisting to himself internally, at least. Whether he truly believed it or not was a different matter altogether.<br><br>She began with some observations about Lord Athers. When she finished speaking of the man, Duncan shrugged. “I only know that which he has told me, and the gossip that made the rounds at the time. When he stood in front of me at the funeral, red-faced and eyes full of hatred, saying the words, 'She would be alive if you had acted'.... well, I didn't need to draw -too- many conclusions on my own,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “Whether or not my actions could have saved her is neither here nor there. The result is that his heart is closed to another like that ever again, or so he says. Now, he enjoys partaking in pleasures of the flesh – but nothing beyond that. The pain of his loss was far deeper than any pain a young woman might cause him. But... perhaps his views have changed since then. We rarely speak to one another. As for hating his wife... no, I don't believe so. If she had died by her own doing, or by making some silly action or taking some risk – then I could see it. But, she and their family and retainers were in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more. He was lucky to have survived. Our patrol arrived within minutes of the attack and drove the raiders off – a delay of even a few more minutes and there wouldn't have been -any- survivors. But, alas, when a man's true love is taken from him, there are no excuses sweet enough to staunch that pain.”<br><br>He took a sip, looking her form over for a moment, then responded to her words concerning it. “The form you have chosen is truly beautiful, I admit. There is no denying it. But it is not the form -I- would choose to see you in. Does your form incorporate my desires? Only to a degree, but I suppose that is all that you need,” he said. “And I seem to recall events a bit differently than you do. I seem to recall -asking- to have you and being outright denied, as we lay on your bed together. I had almost... -almost- pleaded with you to allow me to pleasure you... do you not remember? Yet I was denied. I had assumed your refusal was part of your game – to set my desire alight and send me home to pine away for you. Or, perhaps... I simply did not elicit the sort of response from your body that I had hoped.”<br><br>He took another sip of his drink. “If I gave the impression that I wanted you to 'suffer', then I have failed miserably in my efforts to simply convince you to -want- me...,” he said, and then he froze for a moment. It had come so easily from his lips, the summary of his attempts so far to entice her. “I am a mere warrior, Jazelle. I am neither poet nor bard, and do not have the capacity for candied words with which to draw you in. There are dozens of other men, -better- men in this realm who would melt your nethers with their words alone, but I am not one of them. To face you in a game, another form of 'battlefield' is more the language I speak, and I spoke, and I was victorious; the wager merely an effort to have you long for me even a fraction of how I long for you. There was no 'suffering' intended, except perhaps the suffering of my patience as I wait for you to come to me with any sort of desire.”<br><br>“As for my 'demand' to have the 'real you'... I did not intend it as a demand, but as a deeply hoped-for request. I want the -real- you, Jazelle. The vision before me now, though beautiful – is a lie. I do not want my hands to roam a lie, my lips to suckle a lie, my tongue to penetrate a lie. I want what is really -you-, but I have come to believe that you are too afraid to give it – and instead, use these alternate forms as a sort of safety to protect your heart from something you may simply be too reluctant to feel.”<br><br>He tilted the goblet up, the final contents slipping down his throat. As he set the glass down, he turned his eyes back to her.<br><br>“The value of an ache, a want, a need? It is -priceless-. It is those things that prove we are -alive-. Need can burn hot or cold, based on the situation. My need for Llewellyn Blankeship was, at one time, a fiery ember from the hearth. Now – it is but a sheet of ice, frozen and unwanted. But my need for <em>you</em>...,” he paused for a moment searching for the words before his eyes widened momentarily, having finally found them.<br><br>“Have you ever dared to touch the sun itself, Jazelle?” 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>02-12-2014, 03:07:57</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>The information about Lord Athers was interesting, though Jazelle couldn't precisely say why -- but that was for further consideration later.<br><br>When Duncan continued speaking, her focus sharpened, and intensified ... and some of the tension eased from her posture as she considered the possibility that he spoke the truth.&nbsp; From the first, she had judged him a man who lived by his vows ... and she had not judged him cruel, and the idea that he could be had not set well.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had they simply seen things from the perspective of their individual experiences, without understanding?&nbsp; She had given truth, and hoped that he would accept it -- she could hardly do less.<br><br><em>"I remember, Duncan.&nbsp; I also remember that I had said that, so long as you wore the collar, I was bound by obligation over my own desires.&nbsp; To tease you, tempt you, that I could do - but to have you required your trust, which you did not give.&nbsp; And by then I did not wish for a mere taste if I could not have all."</em><br><br>Jazelle's head lifted, and she smiled faintly, her eyes traveling from his head to his boots as if to communicate her incredulity that any would be satisfied with less, given the temptation.<br><br><em>"Have you seen the effects of starvation, of thirst, on those you have taken in battle, Duncan?&nbsp; Have you ever required knowledge from an enemy, and denied them air to win their cooperation?&nbsp; You know what I am, Duncan, and even if I no longer drain men of their lives, their souls, desire and its culmination are food, air to me.&nbsp; With your wager, you have bound me to take those things from no other man while you yet live -- a wager which I accepted, after I cautioned you to consider the dangers.&nbsp; And you promised that when you won,&nbsp; you would deny me food ... air ... until you chose to grant it.&nbsp; A day, a week, a month ... in a month, I do not know how much control I would yet have.&nbsp; I denied you my form in the hope that it would give me a ... chip ... with which to bargain, should I lose."</em><br><br>As slowly as she had traversed the perimeter of the bed, she retraced her steps until she stood close enough to reach out, to touch him ... which she longed to do, but did not ... reminding herself of control, and of the importance of understanding -- something that she had taken enough for granted as to possibly damage fledgling trust beyond its ability to again find wings.<br><em><br>"Do you remember that I told you that I already burned for you?&nbsp; Do you ask yourself why I would chance binding myself, my freedom, the existence I have forged for myself upon this plane?&nbsp; Did you think that I would ensure that I did not lose to you?&nbsp; Did you think my word as disposable as my form?&nbsp; My word is my armor, that which keeps me from the abyss.&nbsp; If I speak the truth, then why, my general ... why would I risk all upon a foolish wager?&nbsp; If I won, what did I have to gain ... other than the possibility you could come to trust that the last thing I wish is to bring you harm?"</em><br><br>Despite the intensity of her voice, her gaze, her lips quirked.&nbsp; <em>"Llwellyn Blankenship is a different matter altogether - without the queen's timely intervention, I fear she would not have fared so well as to only be lamenting the absence of your arms ... rather her own, perhaps."</em><br><br>She sobered again, closing her eyes against the all the things she could so easily see herself daring, to be the focus of his need ... and his regard.<br><br><em>"To come to you without desire, my general, is an impossibility.&nbsp; I have no means to touch the sun, but I would risk the abyss to ... deserve ... your regard, and your need."</em><br><br>She had once asked her daughter if a mortal man, one who did not accept her for what she was, was worth agony. Her daughter had not hesitated to throw herself into the flames, and Jazelle had borne the scorching wrack with her ... even as she denied giving name to that which compelled her to do so.&nbsp; &nbsp;Was it that moment that she had wondered if she were capable of such ... emotion ... had first felt the desire to experience it for herself?<br><br>Jazelle thought that perhaps it was.&nbsp; She did not yet have an answer to whether it was worth it ... and she wondered if her daughter deemed it so still.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>02-12-2014, 03:44:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan expected Jazelle to drop some witty one-liners about his comments, his words that were slowly digging a hole from which he would not so easily escape. Perhaps a few words to 'warn' him about being so 'mushy', or maybe an anecdote about puppy-love or teenage crushes. This was -her- battlefield, he realized already – back and forth with words, promises, oaths and insinuations. He felt as if he were combating a foe that outnumbered him and outsmarted him – for she was intelligent, no mater what glorious form she chose to assume.<br><br>“So as long as I wore the collar, until I -trusted- you, you were... restrained in some way,” he said, nodding slowly as he put the pieces together. He wasn't an obtuse man by any means, but unlike her, he didn't have all the pieces – and dealing with the machinations of an otherworldly creature was, sadly, something he had very little experience with. She looked him over – just as he had done to her – but it did not slow him down at all.<br><br>“Of course I have seen starvation, along with famine and disease. Starvation, especially, is a part of war. I had indeed sought to leverage control of your body during our match... but I had no idea that you relied upon the -use- of your body in such a way...,” his look darkened for a moment... guilt? Surprise? Whatever it was, when he spoke again, his words were softer. “Forgive me, Jazelle. No matter the pleasure and excitement our game brought to me... I would -never- deny you something to the point of starvation. I thought...”<br><br>He sighed, raising a hand to run through his hair as he closely considered his words. “I thought that by winning control over something you enjoyed, you would be... coerced... to come to me for it. Perhaps... heatedly so,” he said, his eyes avoiding her for a moment.<br><br>-That-, apparently, was guilt.<br><br>“You speak as if you are... different.... from others of your own kind, that you have undergone... changes, which make your appetites – and your needs – different than they used to be. I have no knowledge of such things then or now – except for what you have just presently shared with me. Your word is your armor – keeping you from the abyss.... curious words... as if you seek to -avoid- that place which, for all that we mortals know, is your home, loved by you and your kind.”<br><br>He truly wished he would have went to see the wizard straight away. Not knowing that the wizard was -in league- with Jazelle, Duncan still would have approached him for counsel. But it was too late now. Now, she stood before him – unhappy, dissatisfied... her look and sound not at all like the playful creature he had spent an unforgettable night with the previous evening.<br><br>“Denying me your form gives you an -enormous- chip. It was a perfect counter-move on your part and you deserve praise for it... I won, denying others the use of your body, hoping to have -you-, the real -you-... all to myself... only to have you deny the -real you- that I sought to possess. You would give me yourself in any <em>other</em> form – even the one you wear now – yet you would <em>know</em> that I still hungered for something else, and perhaps that would be the 'chip', as you say, to free you from your oath to me...,” he nodded slowly, sharing his own realization with her. <br><br>“And it would have worked. For one night with the<em> real </em>you – I would have gladly rescinded my wager.”<br><br>That he found her true form attractive did not surprise him. He knew most men would be repulsed by it (or terrified of it), but not him. Duncan had always sought the exotic, the rare, the things that were -different-. Even his choice of weapons on the battlefield were rare and unique amongst his ranks. And then there was the belief he held that she had likely bedded few men, perhaps none, in her true form, and that prospect had... thrilled him.<br><br>She stood before him now, approaching him back around the bed the way she had walked moments ago. He smirked at her veiled threat towards Llewellyn Blankenship – or rather, her not-so-veiled threat to Lady Blankenship's arms. And then she referred back to his own words about the sun, and what she would risk to -deserve- his regard – and his need.<br><br>He wasn't sure how she meant those words, but he found his body moving all on its own – his hands rising up to gently cup both of her cheeks in his palms – and his lips were hurrying to meet hers in a rush. Whether she returned the affection, whether she received it well, parted her lips, raised her hands... or simply stood there like a mannequin being assaulted by a tailor, Duncan pressed his lips to hers for a long, quiet moment, both of his thumbs caressing her cheeks. When he finally did pull his lips from hers, his head backed away but his hands remained where they were.<br><br>“You deserve far <em>-better-</em>,” he said, “And you already have my trust, Jazelle... at least the trust of my body. I've been vulnerable to you many times over, and if you meant me harm – you had ample opportunity to do so...”<br><br>His thumbs moved slowly, gently, along her cheek bones.<br><br>“But my heart... that is what I long to give you the most; can I trust you with it?” he asked, laying more of his cards out on the table.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>02-12-2014, 18:57:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>There was extreme satisfaction, an almost ... almost ... sexual pleasure in a game well played.&nbsp; Jazelle was familiar with that feeling, and had felt it even upon losing.&nbsp; Duncan Vanzell had played well, with both skill and courage.&nbsp; Only the nature of what she perceived as his intent had surprised her, had given her pause ... had made her wonder at the depths of his ruthlessness.&nbsp; He had not struck her as one who would carelessly play with the lives of others, and she had hoped ... hoped ... that he had planned only to use the potential in much the same way that she had used the collar.<br><br>She had hoped, believed, enough to accept his wager.&nbsp; He had asked for the collar, had offered the possibility of agreeing to what she would have asked had she won.&nbsp; At the time, she had thought it a strange request, given that he could have ... from her perspective ... what she had offered and more, an indication that he had not trusted her to keep her word.<br><em><br>"I did not seek to use it to free myself from my oath, Duncan - only to give you .... incentive ... not to deny me.&nbsp; My promises are not so easily revoked."</em><br><br>There was no time to address anything else, or no need at the moment.&nbsp; The immediacy of his kiss removed the distance, and the last lingering traces of the chill she had felt between them.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was enough, more than enough, to close the remaining distance between them as her hands slid up his sides to his waist, lips parting, surrendering to the kiss with a mixture of emotions that would require some effort to sort out, but later, much later.<br><br>When he lifted his mouth from hers, she missed it immediately, but did not protest; she said nothing, did not move, only gazed up into his face as if she intended to emblazon his face and the moment in her memory.&nbsp; That was, in fact, precisely what she was doing.<br><br>He trusted her.&nbsp; In losing, she had accomplished her goal, and perhaps gained even more.&nbsp; <em>"And you have mine."</em><br><br>The next words stilled her breathing, and her eyes dropped for a few moments as she gave careful consideration of what his words meant, to them both.&nbsp; She had spoken truly in that she did not want to cause him harm, and that desire carried over to harm inflicted by any means.&nbsp; <em>"I do not know ... my understanding of all that might bring you pain ... is not complete.&nbsp; But I would ... try."</em><br><br>Her almost hopeful offer made, she steeled herself to speak of the points he had touched on earlier, things he must know and understand to avoid such misunderstandings in the future.<br><br><em>"I am different from my sisters, different from what I once was.&nbsp; The abyss is no home, not to my kind, but a prison.&nbsp; We have no freedom, but what is allowed by those who ... command ... or should some mortal unwittingly summon one of us without stricture.&nbsp; Such summonings do not usually end well for the summoner, or any who find themselves in the vicinity, or even for the succubus herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;When we are sent out to the mortal realm, or summoned, it is for a task.&nbsp; The overseers are not kind to those who fail, and even success buys only a small amount of favor ... favor that is usually quickly spent.&nbsp; Punishments for failure is harsh ... the starvation of which I spoke is only one such punishment, to keep us eager to succeed at any cost.&nbsp; Loyalty is ... bartered and purchased, a thing of moments.&nbsp; &nbsp;Honor ... is rare, a conceit of the strongest.&nbsp; &nbsp;I would choose destruction, given the choice, over returning to that existence.&nbsp; I was fortunate to have escaped ... and perhaps wise enough not to squander the chance to seek another path.&nbsp; If you are to trust me with something of such value, you should not do so without knowledge, and understanding of the dangers, my general."<br></em><br>As she spoke, Jazelle did not grow more agitated, but rather only more relaxed, more certain.&nbsp; Though she did not fully understand why, she did know that her actions had not taken her closer to the abyss but rather farther from it.&nbsp; &nbsp;Whatever Duncan decided, it would enough, and far better than she could have ever expected.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>03-12-2014, 03:21:43</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>“You offer ample incentive to not deny you. I have no doubt at all countless men before me have been in the same boat – unable to refuse whatever you wished,” he answer in reply to her supposition concerning leverage she might gain from withholding her true form from him. He had assumed, of course, that she knew this already, that the temptation she could offer him would be too much for him to refuse. How could he, a mere mortal, refuse one such as her, or any of her sisters? He assumed she would believe that, that she would simply bide her time until his hunger for her became something akin to her own hunger that she had described to him – the major difference being, he was a mortal, the sands of the hourglass for him were constantly becoming fewer: as soon as he was spat from his mother's womb, he was already -dying-.<br><br>Not so for the succubus. She might hunger. She might come close to starving. Perhaps in a year, or five, or ten, she would breakdown, unable to resist the urge, and take a man – any man – to sate that which she had been denied. And when she spoke, she truly seemed to believe that he would deny her that long... when in truth, he doubted he would last a month, or even a week... though he had not admitted such things, hoping she simply wouldn't realize it.<br><br>Her hands moved to his sides as she gave in to the kiss, and he was immediately grateful for it, a small, slight, almost tender groan of relief reverberating from his throat as he tasted her. Had it not felt as if he hadn't been in her chambers for -days-? Or had it truly only been a length of time measured only in hours? The kiss seemed to sate some of his hunger, at least for now, while offering him some manner of relief. He tried not to think of the possibility of tasting another man on her lips – instead, he chose to believe her other various 'meetings' since arriving here had been platonic at best.<br><br>Gently, reluctantly he pulled his lips from hers. He confessed a level of trust in her, and a small part of his mind ridiculed himself for even thinking it. He? Trusting a -demon-? He knew if others could hear him now – even his closest friends – they would think he had simply gone -mad-. Had he known her his entire life, so ready to trust her now after years of proof that she was trustworthy? Or had it simply been a deeply rooted desire to trust her in a way he had trusted no one, but once, thinking that perhaps she might be worthy of it? <br><br>She next admitted that she would try to be worthy of trust with his heart. She sounded unsure, and her own words indicated that she could still very well hurt him. He nodded slowly, believing that he understood why.<br><br>Jazelle continued to speak, and this was when the discussion took a more serious turn. He listened intently, closely, examining her words in his mind so that he would understand. She was sharing things with him that he wagered few actually knew about her or her kind. In this matter, his interest was not scholastic, but rather personal. At first he was gratified to hear that she -was- different from her sisters, that perhaps she had a bit more freedom and autonomy from that which made her kind -evil-, as childish a hope that might have been for him to have. She described a system of servitude for her kind that he never would have imagined – to him, the fables spoke of demonic-women who seduced men to sate their own bodily lusts – not as some sort of method to do another's bidding. He had also heard of the incubus, of course, a male version of her kind that sought to do much the same, but to also impregnate mortal women with demon-spawn. How much of it was truth, and how much of it was false? <br><br>“My mentor once told me words that I have lived by through battle, through war, through life. He once said, <em>'The greatest rewards require the greatest risks'</em>. Those words have always been true in my experience... and at this moment, likely never more true.”<br><br>He caressed her cheek again. “Tell me, Jazelle. Tell me of these dangers. Are you at risk of being drawn back to the abyss? Can some mage pull you away from me at any moment? Are there others hunting you? Your sisters – brothers? Can I somehow 'summon' you myself?”<br><br>Duncan paused for a moment, then gently stepped away from her, moving over to retrieve the collar that she had left for him that morning. He held it in his hands as if it might break, turning it over this way and that as he returned to stand in front of her.<br><br>“I trust you. I -<em>want</em>- to trust you. And if you need proof....”<br><br>His voice trailed off as he opened the device and lifted it towards his neck....<br><br>– – --- – ----- - - –&nbsp; ---- - - - – – -&nbsp; - - --- --- <br><br>“Brother Steffan, please, you must come quickly!”<br><br>Steffan looked up from behind his desk where he had been sitting and scribing for hours. The look he gave the younger monk was harsh, and warning: if this break in his concentration was for some frivolous reason, then the young monk would receive a healthy dose of lashes for his stupidity. The young monk, Rathan, knew this of course, which only made the elder monk very curious why he would be disturbed.<br><br>Slowly, Steffan rose to his feet and moved around this desk. “I needn't warn you that this had better be for a good reason, Brother Rathan...”<br><br>Rathan did not bother to reply, but his exuberance and excitement were obvious, not contained in the slightest. It was -<em>alarm</em>- that the young monk was exhibiting, and in turn that set Steffan slightly on edge. <br><br>The young monk was nearly hopping as he led Steffan – who walked with long, steady strides to keep up – down a long, rough-stone corridor. They reached a doorway that led to a set of stairs, and those stairs led down to the temple's dungeons. <br><br>A sense of foreboding slowly crept into Steffan's heart, but he kept his calm demeanor, looking for all intents and purposes as though he were bored.<br><br>Down the steps they went, down into the bowels of the earth. Those kept in this dungeon were dead to the world, their screams would never be heard by any save those who kept them locked away. Men and women, witches and warlocks, whores and adulterers... most of whom the King himself were not even aware of.<br><br>Brother Steffan answered to a -<em>higher</em>- authority than the King. Steffan and his followers worshiped Amalthea, the Lady of Justice, Queen of Law, Guardian of Men. She was the light in the darkness, and only through Her will and grace were Steffan and his followers able to protect the people of the kingdom from complete and utter chaos and despair.<br><br>Rathan wordlessly led Steffan to the last cell on the end, as they walked by so many others, both men ignoring the odd noises, pleas, curses, and tears of those they passed. At the end, in the last cell, Steffan's suspicions proved true, as he turned to look through the bars towards the cell's only inhabitant.<br><br>An old man, in his sixties at the very least, sat in the middle of the floor. He had wisps of hair on his head, white from age, and the rest of his skin sagged and hung on his body like a damp sheet over a chair. His mouth moved, muttering something, babbling incessantly, but it was his eyes that were different – his eyelids were sewn -<em>shut</em>-, long ago, for reasons known only to Steffan himself, and those reasons were paying off now.<br><br>“He is babbling, like usual,” Steffan said with a sigh, his shoulders sagging with annoyed disappointment. “I warned you, Brother Rathan, that-....”<br><br>The man in the cell, hearing the voice he recognized, began to speak coherently, his voice rising, his words clear and strong.<br><br><br><em>“Ill winds mark its fearsome flight,<br>Summer branches creak in the night,<br>The landscape shall turn into ashen crumbs,<br>when something wicked this way comes.<br><br>Crystal water turns to dark,<br>wherever its presences leaves a mark.<br>And boiling currents pound like drums,<br>as something wicked this way comes.<br><br>A presence dark invades the fair,<br>and gives the innocent ample scare.<br>For chaos reigns and panic numbs,<br>for something wicked this way comes!”</em><br><br>And then, as if he hadn't even realized he had spoken rationally for those few precious moments, the man descended quietly into babbling once more. But around him, the inmates of the cells began to howl and scream, teeth chattering and hands gripping bars, rattling them in their frames. The noise was nearly deafening, echoing around the place enclosed in stone, and immediately Steffan began to walk back the way he had come.<br><br>“When did this start?” Steffan shouted over his shoulder.<br><br>“This morning, Brother,” Rathan replied as loud as he could.<br><br>Steffan froze suddenly, turned and glowered at him, his voice rising. “Why wasn't I informed SOONER?” he nearly roared. Rathan's face went pale.<br><br>“Brother Anton was on duty here sir, until just a short while ago, when I took over. I came to you the moment I heard it, after Anton told me the man had been babbling the same thing over and over since then, and I remembered that this had-....”<br><br>“Happened before, several times in the past,” Steffan interrupted as he curtly turned on his heel and continued towards the exit. As they reached the stairwell heading back upwards to the surface, they left the howling and screaming behind them, dying down the more distance they put between themselves and the dungeon. <br><br>“Your grace?” Rathan asked as he worked hard to keep up with Steffan's long strides.<br><br>“The Savant has uttered those words before, and he does so, I believe, whenever a great evil is amongst us. If he began to utter those words this morning, then it -<em>arrived</em>- this morning, and the entire kingdom could be in danger. But this time, I am prepared...”<br><br>Rathan simply didn't know how to respond to that. <br><br>“I want you to go fetch Brothers Mace and Jeffrey. And then fetch the High Paladin Torrin himself. Summon them to my chambers – and no, I do not care what time of day it is or what they are doing. Whatever it is can wait.”<br><br>“Yes, Brother Steffan,” Rathan answered almost breathlessly.<br><br>“Oh, and fetch Brother Anton last of all,” he said, and Rathan nodded and turned to dash off to do as he was told.<br><br>It seemed there would be some lashes given out tonight after all.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>03-12-2014, 23:16:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><em><br>"Some do,"</em> Jazelle answered mildly, wise enough not to go into too many specifics. <em> "That which tempts most men will leave others unmoved.&nbsp; If you valued power over me more than what I could offer ... "<br></em><br>His kiss left her longing for more, but she did not press.&nbsp; It was enough, more than enough, that it seemed that the battle of slow degrees, slow agonies, was not what he intended.&nbsp; Her fears had been unfounded, and he was ... what she had been told, had experienced for herself in the hours before dawn.&nbsp; There was no rush now, and the building of trust was more important than desires ... as odd as she once would have found that notion ... at least so long as she had good control of her hungers.<br><br>His touch against her cheek, the brush of his fingers, did not make that resolve particularly easy to hold, though she was happy for his questions.&nbsp; Before she could answer, he paused and moved away to retrieve the collar that she had left for him that morning, in answer to his last request before he had departed her sanctuary.<br><br>Jazelle stilled, and watched as he spoke of trust, and of proof.&nbsp; She said nothing at all as he lifted the collar and placed it back where it once had been, a faint smile on her face.<br><br>This time, there was no involuntary movement of the clasp to fasten tight, no hum of magic against his skin.&nbsp; There was only the brief coolness of soft, padded leather that warmed to his skin, and the soft tinkle of the chain as is led from neck to the coil in his hands.<br><br><em>"The collar's enchantment was ended with the dawn, my general.&nbsp; It is naught now but ... a pretty symbol ... a focus for your thoughts and desires, should you hold it and think of me, so that I might know, no matter what distractions.&nbsp; I thank you for the trust, all the same.&nbsp; If you come to me, it will be at your will.&nbsp; It truly always was, Duncan ... beyond the first demonstration to offer us both some measure of safety, and perhaps an excuse to indulge in your own desires.&nbsp; Being in control ... guarding your trust always ... is an exhausting prospect ... even for one such as you, or I."</em><br><br>She smiled, a dimple appearing in the face of the form she wore.&nbsp; <em>"But I do like the way it looks on you, bringing back memories of you otherwise naked and ... aroused."</em><br><br><em>"But first, the talk.&nbsp; Your questions deserve an answer.&nbsp; There are times when I truly regret the shift in my priorities, though."</em>&nbsp; Her voice was sultry, playful, once more, the tension one of expectation rather than dread, and her walk back to the General's bed, where she sat herself almost primly, was one involving a sway of her hips that hardly seemed necessary for simple locomotion.<br><br><em>"The forces that binds me to that plane have been ... circumvented ... by magic.&nbsp; Should I grow too hungry, too angry, or be driven by desperation to push myself beyond certain limits, that magic may not hold.&nbsp; What protections I have ... would dissipate.&nbsp; It would be likely that I would be driven back by the abyss, or reclaimed by those who would again sense my presence.&nbsp; As for mages who could pull me away from you ... any possessing my name ... my truename ... could use it to summon me.&nbsp; An accidental lesser summoning ... my protections would prevent that.&nbsp; To my knowledge, there are only two such - Valerian, your court wizard, is one of those.&nbsp; He is ... an ally.&nbsp; As for those hunting me, there have been some.&nbsp; I have made enemies, but mostly in this plane.&nbsp; My taskmaster believed that I was destroyed, and he himself met that fate some long years ago." </em><br><br>Jazelle's eyes held Duncan's, not even attempting to hide the fact that she had been instrumental in bringing that demise about, and that it gave her a great deal of satisfaction.<br><em><br>"And I suppose that you 'could' summon me, had you the training and the ability to create the circle and cast the summoning.&nbsp; I would not suggest it, unless you truly possess the gift for such things.&nbsp; Botched summonings likely account for most of the stories you have heard of my kind, and any deviation could bring to you something that you would likely not enjoy.&nbsp; To bring me to you, however, will soon not be hard ... should you choose to follow your desires."</em><br><br><hr><br>The empty darkness of a well-appointed, empty chamber rustled with a sound not unlike the coiling of a snake, the soft rasp of scale against scale, but deeper.&nbsp; And suddenly, the darkness was not empty.&nbsp; A sleeper, sitting up from a nightmare, might have caught just a glimpse of something in the blackness, something blacker than the darkness and massive, a vein of coal given life, perhaps, or a wall of jet, if such things could ooze malevolence.&nbsp; &nbsp;And then the shadows parted, and through them a man stepped through, a handsome man of impressive proportions, with eyes as cold as a serpent's.&nbsp; He was dressed in immaculate fashion, the latest court style, black upon black upon black.&nbsp; He smiled, and something in his hand flashed for a moment as he casually tossed and caught it before slipping it into his pocket.<br><br>Good.&nbsp; The chamber was empty.&nbsp; If it had not been, it wouldn't have mattered, but it would save him a special trip to deal with a tool not wise enough to know his place.&nbsp; With a flourish, despite there being none to see, he whipped out his hand, palm up, as if inviting some simpering miss to the dance floor.&nbsp; From the shadows, something stepped, a dusky hand followed by an obviously female body of generous proportion.&nbsp; A dark flash of wings, and just as the dark shape had morphed into a fully clothed man, so did this.&nbsp; She was dressed in attire well suited to those who displayed and sold their favors, not for a few coppers but for gold instead.&nbsp; Her hair was dark, piled high upon her head, with curling tendrils escaping to highlight the angles of her feline-like face, green eyes almost glowing in the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains.<br><br>"You understand what it is you are to do?"<br><br>"Of course, my master."<br><br>"Then go do it.&nbsp; Remember, you are to be subtle ... for now.&nbsp; Do not grow careless and expose yourself, Zenora ... or you will incur my displeasure."<br><br>"I know what is to be done.&nbsp; No other could do it better than I."&nbsp; The voice was low, husky, sensual, promising a thousand delights.&nbsp; She showed no fear, only a lazy confidence.<br><br>The man bent, raised his hand to force the succubus' head high to receive his kiss, a deep full press, as he pulled her hard against him, bending and lifting her like a doll as his mouth released hers to trail down her chin, to her neck and then the half-exposed bounty spilling from her dress.<br><br>Zenora purred at the touch, but her eyes were cold, and she closed them as he pushed her away, so that he would not see.&nbsp; He knew, of course, but for her to display her disgust would be an impertinence he would not let go unpunished.&nbsp; Still, she paused long enough to regard him in the dim light, projecting her certainty, her confidence, before she turned and let herself out the door.<br><br>Iblis' eyes lingered on the succubus' lush human form as she sauntered away.&nbsp; He was tempted to linger, to watch her work, but ... he had other things to do.&nbsp; After he had given Zenora enough time to make her exit, he let himself out again.&nbsp; The faint scent of sulfur, faint as the scent from a dry, book-pressed flower, lingered after him for a few moments ... and then was gone as well.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>04-12-2014, 10:13:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan was glad that she did not resist his kiss, or pull away. Neither did she throw herself into it – reserved would have been a good word to describe it, and he felt somewhat silly, allowing his thoughts to get carried away. Like her, he did not press it further. Perhaps she was still sore with him for some reason he could not fathom. Perhaps his sharing his thoughts had disappointed her somehow, perhaps she thought he would resist longer, or completely deny her, doing things that no man had likely ever had the power to do when at the receiving end of her charms.<br><br>Perhaps she had already won, and was bored of winning.<br><br>She had smiled faintly as he brought the collar to his neck, seeking to show his trust in her – and was informed that the collar was powerless now. He felt silly, then, lowering it in his hand, almost succumbing to a blush. She explained on, though, about how she thanked him for his trust, about how coming to her had always been a matter of his own will, and not his being compelled by any outside means. Then she shared how she thought that guarding one's trust, being in control... was an exhausting prospect – even for her.<br><br>Did that mean she, too, could feel such a thing? Was that what she had just inferred?<br><br>She then smiled more widely, a dimple appearing, as she admitted that she liked how it looked on him with nothing else on at all – his arousal at full mast for her. He remembered that well, how he had ached, and how he had continued to ache, unsatisfied in that regard before he departed and returned to his chambers to do what needed done. For now, she walked away from him, over to the bed, putting some distance between them. Of course his eyes lowered, watching her rump do things that would drive most men wild with want. She sat on his bed, prim and proper, and spoke.<br><br>And then her words turned more serious, and her mood did seem to relax a bit. He simply remained quiet by that point, allowing her a chance to elaborate as she began to share details about herself, her kind, that so many scholars would have paid huge sums of money for. Or was this information common knowledge amongst them, just not amongst the common man? He didn't know for certain and truly he did not care – as he had no plans to profit from anything she said. He had simply been looking for an excuse to feel that she was confiding in him...<br><br>Duncan listened closely, balanced on every word. She spoke of the magic that was used that allowed her to avoid the abyss, and how it could be ruined, forcing her back to that dark, wicked-sounding place. She spoke of her true name, and how the two who owned her true name could summon her at their whim. One was Valerian, and at the mention of his name, Duncan's eyes widened, even though she mentioned Valerian as an ally. She did not mention who the second was, and that immediately gnawed at him.<br><br>She spoke about her taskmaster – her... owner? - and how he was destroyed long ago. The look on her face told him that she had a&nbsp; part in that, perhaps even a major part, and he could see the pride and satisfaction in her gaze.<br><br>She moved on, then, to explain that Duncan – with the right training and skill – might be able to 'summon' her. She counseled against it, though, for it was a dangerous task. But she hinted at some method by which he could easily summon her to him....<br><br>“Who else knows your true name?” he asked, blurting the question out. He was eager to know who else could pull her away at a moment's notice. Duncan had never truly trusted Valerian, and though the wizard was a cantankerous bastard, it did seem that his motives were usually aligned with the King's. Duncan could ask no more than that. But he was still very eager to know who this second individual was.<br><br>“And what is this method you hint that, that might allow me to bring you to me?” he asked, curious to see how that might work. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>04-12-2014, 19:36:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>For a moment, Jazelle pondered what she should say, what she could say without betraying another's secrets.&nbsp; The succubus had spent most of her existence without allies, without even the concept of what such a thing meant.&nbsp; She had learned the value of trust.&nbsp; Valerian's cast his magicks openly, and in telling Duncan that he possessed her summoning name betrayed no secret that was not her own.&nbsp; <em>"Another mage, of a sort - one who aided me in the construction of my sanctuary ... where you were when you wore the collar.&nbsp; Were it known the aid he provided to one such as I, he would be harmed for it ... so I ask that you not inquire further as to his name at this juncture.&nbsp; He is no summoner -- he used my name to build my essence into the tower.&nbsp; The others who have known my name over the years ... are no longer in a position to use it."</em><br><br>The mage she had spoken of was also not fully human, something that she didn't care to mention just then. <br><br>Her face drew down into a frown, before she glanced upward at Duncan once more.&nbsp; He had spoken of giving her his heart ... and despite the fact that she would have considered such a thing absurd once, she did not do so now.&nbsp; He did not speak of such things lightly, and that was the stick best used to measure against.&nbsp; &nbsp;He thought he could possibly care for, trust, her despite what she was, but how truly would that intent hold through the vastly different lives they had led?&nbsp; All the same, he had offered her a tremendous gift of faith ... she could do no less in return.<br><br><em>"There is one other who knows my name, though she does not need it to summon me.&nbsp; My daughter." </em> The daughter she had conceived with a human cleric, a man sworn to his god and to another, who had broken every oath he had sworn to lie with her, again and again until she had tired of toying with him.&nbsp; &nbsp; When she had found herself with child, she had not been prepared, had not thought herself capable of nurturing anything or anyone ... and had left the baby with his father, to be raised as a foundling -- though she had returned to watch the tiny babe grow to a fiery-haired girl and then to woman.&nbsp; Her father had betrayed his daughter, just as he had betrayed his wife ... though in the doing, he had taught Jazelle something of what it was to be a mother, to sacrifice. <br><br>She did not offer further explanation, though her head cocked inquiringly, allowing him to question if he wished. <br><br>He had given her trust; she would offer him the same. <br><br><em>"Your desire, my general.&nbsp; You have my notice ... my regard ... already.&nbsp; &nbsp;With the collar to focus your thoughts, given the association, it is likely that I would know of it, should you call for me.&nbsp; &nbsp; This would weaken over time, as things stand now ... but the closer our ... association ... the stronger will the connection be.&nbsp; While you could not compel me to come to you, assuredly I would, unless some some pressing need required me to delay in answering.&nbsp; I can feel your presence, my general.&nbsp; So long as you desire me, and no external force interferes, I will find you, wherever you might be, and the distance between us is no more than your distance from my realm and your quarters."</em><br><br><em>"Any man who dallies with a succubus, my general, will never truly be free of her ... unless he lays his desire for her to rest ... "</em><br><br>And even if he had not yet 'closed the circuit' as Valerian might have said in one of his lecturing moods ... Jazelle already would remember him for the rest of her days.&nbsp; He would never truly be free of her, so long as she could prevent it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>04-12-2014, 22:30:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan was no stranger to hesitation, mostly from seeing it in others. As fluid as Jazelle was in her banter, words of a more... personal... nature weren't so quick and easy to flow. It made clear to him the seriousness of the situation, and the depth of the topics they discussed. Oh yes, it could all still be some sort of ruse, for certain, especially given her origins. But he liked to believe that they -had- been developing trust between one another, and that there -had- been some kind of... spark?... between them.<br><br>Wishful thinking? Or a subconscious longing that he had finally decided to fulfill with the one creature in all the world most likely to betray him? Was it the allure of the inherent danger? Or was it the fact that she could mold her body into any interesting form she – or he – desired? Or... had her true form truly enchanted him as much as he felt it had?<br><br>Wherever those thoughts led, at the moment she did answer his question concerning those who knew who real name – those who had power over her. She asked him not to inquire further of this other person's identity – and Duncan nodded once in complete understanding. Did it truly matter? Part of him feared that it did, but if Jazelle was content with the state of things as they were, then he would be, as well. <br><br><br>And then he saw perhaps her most serious frown yet in the time he had known her. She spoke of yet another that knew her name – a daughter. Duncan's eyes widened slowly. A -daughter-? <br><br>“Oh,” he said, sounding completely surprised. Then he kicked himself mentally – why -wouldn't- she have offspring? With as much sex as she had likely had, it was conceivable that she had given birth to countless offspring, why was he so shocked over the admission of a single daughter's existence? <br><br>Jazelle tilted her head to the side – but offered no further details. Duncan took the hint, and decided not to open his mind and let pour the dozens of questions that fully formed in his mind concerning her child. Instead, one corner of his lips curled in a mischievous smile. “So there is another one of -you- out there somewhere? Gods be good... as if one of you isn't enough,” he said softly, his voice a tease. He meant to pass no judgment on her – not feeling as though he had a right to anyway, and he certainly did not care whether she had children or not. <br><br>She pressed on, then, explaining how the collar could be use to 'call' for her. She stated that the closer they grew together, the stronger the connection would become. Secretly he hoped for a -very- strong connection, if that was the case... but he knew that this was no ordinary woman sitting on his bed before him. The definition of the word 'complicated' likely didn't possibly take into account the differences between them – despite the possible similarities.<br><br>She warned him, then, that any man who dallies with one of her kind would never be truly free of her – and Duncan nodded.<br><br>“I do not wish to be,” he assured her, his look serious now. No, he had no plans to 'lay his desire' to rest, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could, even had he wanted to. She had burned herself within his veins, melded herself in his very spirit... Even though he was aware that it could be some simple trick of magic, it did not matter to him – if he was ensorcelled by her, it would be too late to resist anyway. To him, it made perfect sense.<br><br>Slowly he approached her then, and took a seat beside her on the bed, leaning back on his hands, his head turned to regard her. <br><br>“Then perhaps we can reach some sort of agreement,” he said. “Perhaps... I will agree not to use your word against you, while you... might agree to come to me whenever you are... in need?” he asked. He was fairly certain she would understand what he was proposing, or asking, or clarifying at the very least. <br><br>Would she remain true to the wager? Or should he release her from it? Releasing her would surely prove to her even more all the things he had said... but then she would be utterly free of him, as well... <br><br>“I would like very much if...,” he started to say, but then closed his mouth. No – he must hear her thoughts first on the matter he just breached to her, and then there would be time for... further discussion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-12-2014, 02:14:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><em><br>"She is me, in part," </em>Jazelle answered, with a small smile that had at least some semblance of maternal regard. <em> "While she grew, she was not aware that her mother was other than human.&nbsp; She succeeded in sublimating that part of her that ... made her other, almost completely.&nbsp; Perhaps she would have lived her life out as a mortal -- she is certainly stubborn enough -- but circumstances did not permit it."</em><br><br>Jazelle offered no more of her daughter then, though only because she was not certain how much he truly wanted to know.&nbsp; Given their wager, and the length of time that they would be tied together, it was almost certain that Mercy would put in an appearance, or require her help.&nbsp; Her daughter was very good at getting into trouble -- better even than Jazelle.<br><br>Her emotions roiled within her as he closed the distance between them, coming to sit beside her on the bed and leaning back as he looked at her.&nbsp; Much of the tension had gone, though not all ... he was still very much testing her ... feeling her out, as Valerian might have said.&nbsp; In some respects, she was doing the same, taking small steps as she approached a situation that was almost totally new to her.&nbsp; She had found regard, respect, even fondness, for other mortals ... but this one ... this one was special.&nbsp; She did not want to make a mis-step and watch him grow cold and reserved again, his doubts and suspicions taking hold.<br><br>He started to speak, and then stopped.&nbsp; She waited for a moment, to see if he wished to finish his thought.&nbsp; When he didn't, she raised an eyebrow, and asked ... her voice lowering an octave. <em> "Only when I am ... in need?"</em><br><br>And, slowly, as if she feared he might pull away, her hand moved from her lap to his face, brushing the cheek lightly as her fingers slid gently into his hair, pushing it back and luxuriating in its softness, the hidden heat there.<br><br>------------------------------------------<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Zenora.jpg)</div><br>Zenora walked with purpose, finding the nearest exit that led to the streets.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she lingered in the doorway, she extracted a bit of cloth ... a torn piece of blue shirt, ripped from the area over the wearer's heart.&nbsp; How Iblis had secured it, she did not know -- he did not share details with her, which made him all the more a fool in her eyes.&nbsp; &nbsp; He trusted her no more than she trusted him, as she must.<br><br>The succubus held the cloth to her nose, breathing its scent in deeply.&nbsp; The wearer was a virile specimen, in the prime of life and brimming with health and stamina.&nbsp; Handsome, too.&nbsp; His essence, his sweat, in the cloth was more than enough.&nbsp; She could feel him in the distance, laughing, talking, his desire like a beacon burning through the fog of humanity, the keep's inhabitants.&nbsp; He was with a woman, certain of bedding her, his body willing but his mind ... his mind was on another.<br><br>The succubus followed the trail of his essence, ignoring those who attempted to interact, turning eyes full of the thoughts of what she would do to them if they did not take themselves out of her path.&nbsp; &nbsp;A few protested, but quickly found something else to pursue -- Zenora cared nothing for them.&nbsp; She was on the hunt, and she had scented her prey.<br><br>While she stalked, her face, form, and finally clothing began to subtly change, until the dark haired lady of the evening became a chestnut haired lady dressed in pastel finery, overtopped by an embroidered blue coat with gold trim.&nbsp; Her curls were springy in the damp air, and her eyes were confident and eager, as blue as a pale summer sky.<br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div>Those at the door protested when she entered, but a little of her charm persuaded them to allow her inside.<br><br>"A lady such as yourself should not be in a place like this," one scolded, causing Zenora to laugh softly.<br><br>"I am here for him," she confided softly, pointing to man in the center of the room, holding a blonde, half-tipsy woman on his lap while he hoisted a mug of ale, white teeth flashing as he laughed with the others at the table.&nbsp; "Would you mind asking him if he would come outside to have a word with me?"<br><br>"Lucius?&nbsp; I can do that.&nbsp; Who should I say is asking?"<br><br>"He will know ... if you describe me," she answered, giving the oaf a honey-sweet smile.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You are very ... kind."<br><br>The transformed succubus allowed herself to be escorted to the entryway, where she waited.&nbsp; Of the form she wore, she knew only that this Lucius desired her strongly ... it was a starting point, and she was quite skilled at strengthening her disguise as she went along, until it no longer mattered.&nbsp; This ... was going to be fun. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>05-12-2014, 03:41:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan smiled softly when she spoke of her daughter. He caught the small smile, the shift in her body language, demon or not Duncan read a sense of -pride- there, a sense of... affection. Maybe she was faking that, as well – but he certainly didn't get that impression. He nodded when she shared a small bit of info about her daughter, but he made no effort to press her with questions. Not now. Perhaps at some point when she felt more comfortable talking about it, he would.<br><br>For now he sat next to her, his mind racing with all the different angles and thoughts moving through his mind. This wasn't nearly as simple as he thought it would be, but he found that he wanted it more than anything else he'd ever shared with someone.<br><br>When she raised her hand to his face, brushing his cheek – his eyes closed part way and he turned his head, his lips kissing the heel of her palm as she slid her hand back gently into his hair. He continued to kiss her skin, her wrist, the inside of her forearm, letting her sink her hand into his hair.<br><br>When she spoke, wanting to clarify that he would only call her when she was 'in need', his kiss paused, lips pressed against her skin, his eyes darting up to meet hers. He held that pose for just a moment before pulling his lips away... so that he might shake his head a few times, slowly.<br><br>“If I had my wish... you would come visit me whenever you wanted, whether you were in need or not,” he said softly, very serious now. “If I had my wish, you would...share yourself with no one else. If I had my wish....,” he whispered lower, his upper body moving closer to her, “You would kiss me. You would give yourself to me. You would be -mine-.”<br><br>But he didn't push himself on her, only closer to her. He knew for certain she had her own agenda, her own plan, and he was very much aware that he might not figure as much into it as he hoped. The wizard... the King... other strangers without a name... and now a daughter... <br><br>She was complicated, but he was ok with that. <br>- - – - --- --- --- - – --- --- – - <br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>By the god's light, the whores in this town were going to shit.<br><br>Lucius was almost dismayed enough to go somewhere else – but there wasn't anywhere else TO go. All of his usual haunts were unavailable – starting with the Blankenship sisters. He would have been pleased to have had just a touch of just one of them, but they had never called on him. For a moment, he wondered if both of them had headed to Duncan's chambers, instead...<br><br>Bah, fuck that thought! <br><br>Lucius had tried other women he had 'known', some married, some single, one or two with children (not his, thankfully), yet all of them were indisposed, gone, or simply not interested.<br><br>That left him with the taverns, and he'd be DAMNED if he wouldn't find a woman there instead of dragging his feet to the brothel.<br><br>After meeting Lady Alerian today, he had a healthy load he needed to get out of his system, and some lucky lady was going to be the recipient of it tonight, even if he had to pay for it.<br><br>The tavern, “The Rusty Mug”, was one of his favorite rowdy places to hang out. He knew many of the soldiers that visited the place, having fought alongside many of them for several years now. Lucius, like Duncan, was well-thought of by the men – but Lucius perhaps a bit more: he was the hedonist, the party animal, the drinker and the gambler. The men respected Duncan greatly, but they -loved- Lucius.<br><br>He had gotten the 'pick of the litter' when it came to the tavern wenches. A big, buxom blond woman with melons as big as his head that were -barely- contained within her loose shift. Occasionally he'd see a hint of her areola peeking out as she moved or swayed, a bit tipsy into her cups before he had even arrived. She was homely in the face, though, and he thought for a moment that perhaps someone had punched her face in at one time, her nose slightly uneven and clearly so. <br><br>No matter. She would do. She would make a very enjoyable receptacle for his need that night. <br><br>A few of the men egged him on, because he was still on his first mug. He didn't plan to drink -too- much that night – for he had other plans. But he did raise his mug, causing a bit of a cheer to surround him as he then brought it to his lips for a swig.<br><br><br>“Do her on the table!” one of the men shouted, answered by raucous laughter.<br><br>“Come on, teach us young men how it's done!” another voice shouted, answered with more laughter.<br><br>Lucius turned his head to shout back at those gathered in that direction, from whence the shouts had come. “Sorry boys – I don't share my secrets with any man. Less competition that way!” <br><br>And there was another round of laughter. Just another day at the tavern... and Lucius was already growing bored.<br><br>“Alright my pretty... are you ready to be fucked like you've never been fucked before?”<br><br>The blonds eyes widened as such braze words – but her head was nodding emphatically nonetheless. <br><br>Just then, one of the men he knew by name strode up behind him, leaned over and whispered in his ear.<br><br>In an instant, Lucius rose to his feet – the blond crying out as she fell to the floor in a heap – which, of course, elicited hefty amounts of laughter as Lucius suddenly grew very serious – and set his mug on the table.<br><br>Perhaps fortunes had turned that night?<br><br>He strolled to the door – raising a hand to make sure his hair was somewhat combed-back in a fairly decent fashion, his hands then moving to straighten his outfit. <br><br>Lady Alerian had found him. And she wished to speak to him. At this hour, it could mean only one thing.<br><br>She hungered for him as much as he had for her. <br><br>Smiling, he made his way to the entrance, looking left and right and then saw her. His smile brightened as he approached her.<br><br>“Lady Alerian,” he whispered her name, bowing deeply, smoothly, the effects of a single drink not seeming to affect his coordination, at least. “It is such a pleasure to see you tonight! I had thought your schedule would not permit it, but I am not complaining in the least. Please, tell me... how may I be of service to you?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-12-2014, 20:24:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>It was complicated, but Jazelle liked complicated.&nbsp; Simple was undemanding, simple was ... ultimately ... boring, or at the least requiring only a modicum of her attention.&nbsp; Whatever happened from the result of her wager, her loss, she did not think it would be boring ... and the touch of Duncan's lips on her skin had lost none of its appeal.&nbsp; The hunger that she had been keeping tightly controlled shifted within her, like caged animal waking at the scent of food ... but aside from the immediate part of her lips, she gave no sign of it.<br><br>He spoke his wishes, his eyes intent on hers, and the hunger's sleepy shifting turned to immediate, wakeful attention.&nbsp; Jazelle doubted, still, that he knew the full import of what he asked for, but he knew more than he had when he had made his wager.&nbsp; She knew now more than she had when she had accepted, and neither's interest had waned in the slightest.<br><br>She moved to intercept his movement, her mouth seeking his almost before he had gotten the last word out.&nbsp; Despite the hunger's demands, her kiss was soft, almost gentle, but without a trace of hesitation or doubt.&nbsp; &nbsp; She had been 'owned' before&nbsp; ... but wanting to own in return was something new.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had seen jealousy in mortals, had been its benefactor, but that too had been different.&nbsp; She was a succubus, and for the most part the notion of fidelity had been a conceit for most, easily transformed from a vow or principle to a niggle of guilt no more forceful than a fat merchant's regret when his 'vow' to reduce the spread of his girth fell to another pastry, another ladle.<br><br>Her word against her hungers.&nbsp; Coupled with the obvious rewards, it was a challenge she could not refuse, despite the risks.<br><em><br>"Your wish ... is my command, my general," </em>she whispered softly as their lips slowly eased apart. <em> "Though I would ask that you close off the glass and lock the door to your chambers, if it is still your wish to have me in my natural form ... or you could come with me to my tower.&nbsp; &nbsp;It would not be beneficial for any should I be seen thus, here."</em><br><br>She was now free to finish what had been started, under no restraints other than Duncan's and her own.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div>Zenora waited, returning the questioning looks of those exiting the tavern and passing by boldly.&nbsp; She cared little for what others might think of this form she wore, save that she enjoyed the emotions directed her way because of it.&nbsp; The woman whom this mortal ... this Lucius ... lusted after, was of no import to her.&nbsp; That lives might be ruined, relationships strained, murders committed, or a thousand thousand ripples created by her impersonation, the succubus had not a care.&nbsp; It would only have increased her enjoyment had she known of each and every ripple. <br><br>For now, all she cared was that THIS form, this shape, this body and face, was the embodiment of her target's current desires.&nbsp; In a day, an hour, or less he might desire a new form and she would have used that one just as easily.&nbsp; He would burn for her, and she would be whatever he desired, until he desired only her.<br><br>"Lady Alerian" ... a partial name.&nbsp; Zenora committed it to memory.&nbsp; Soon she would have the rest, at least enough so that her disguise would not be compromised with him. &nbsp;"Schedules change, and I decided that I did not want to wait so long to see you again.&nbsp; &nbsp; There is much I would like to ... discuss&nbsp; ... but not here.&nbsp; Somewhere much more ... private ... would be better."&nbsp; Pauses were wonderful conversational tools, she had found, allowing mortal men to fill in whatever meanings suited their fancy best.<br><br>She reached out, laid a delicate hand upon his arm, long, pink-stained nails curling into his skin as she sidled up beside him, pressing her body to his just enough to make it clear that she wished to do more, if only they were not here, in front of so many peering eyes.<br><br>Particularly if things were to go wrong an isolated locale would suit her far better.&nbsp; She was certain, however, that nothing would go wrong.&nbsp; His desire was strong enough now that she could have a light snack upon it alone. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 11:54:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan felt the fullness of her kiss – which she readily gave – but it seemed to lack the intensity he had hoped for. Was she... frightened? Now that the moment had come that they had both danced around so adroitly the previous night, was she not -feeling- it now, the first part of the game at its end? Was that the fun part for her – the pursuit and counter-pursuit, and now that he had her in his sights, the excitement had ebbed? Or was he reading too much into it – was she simply biding her time until they were more fully... engaged... in order to unleash her passion?<br><br>She teased him further, claiming that his wish was her command. He turned his head to regard her, smirking, obviously not believing that at all. She asked for a bit more privacy, if they were to remain here for 'the deed', and he immediately understood her concern. He nodded in reference to her true form – he had meant it, no matter whether she disbelieved him or not. He wanted her, the -real- her, horns, milky skin, empty eyes and all... Only then would he truly believe the reactions he might elicit from her... and he so very much longed to see his darker skin pressed against her pale flesh, eager to enjoy the contrasts in sight that it would provide.<br><br>For his part, as he rose and walked swiftly over the windows along the wall, his own passion was barely contained – as it had been since he met her. The prospect of being able to unleash it crawled along his spine like a gaggle of spiders, tiny tingles of arachnid footsteps creeping down his back. His hands worked the curtains, thick and heavy, blocking out almost the entirety of the sun. Only a few stray, slender beams of light were able to sneak in around the edges, casting the room in a very dim light. <br><br>As he turned and slowly paced himself towards her, his hands were already quickly working his tunic open and loose enough to pull up over his head, only to be tossed aside like refuse. His feet kicked off his low-topped boots, soft leather that was easily pushed from his ankles and feet. Meanwhile his hands worked the belt buckle of his pants, the distance towards her closed by half now, his eyes never leaving her face.<br><br>“It is time, Jazelle,” he whispered to her with a hunger she had not heard yet from him as the belt came loose, his hands immediately reaching for the buttons of his breeches as he closed the distance to her with a slow, confident saunter. <br><br>“It is <em>-long-</em> past time...”<br><br>- - – - --- --- --- - – --- --- – - <br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div><br>Lucius listened to her with undivided attention. She was here, to see him... and he knew that was important. She explained that her schedule had changed. His smile only widened further at his good fortune – and hers, if she were to play her cards right. Lucius was not a selfish man, he would share his pleasure with her, as long as she demonstrated a -little- gratitude, of course...<br><br>“Then I am indeed the most fortunate man in this city this night,” he smiled charmingly. “And of course, I know a place not far from here that will offer us complete and total privacy. You needn't worry about prying eyes or large ears. Come, my dove,” he urged, and gently took her hand, and turned and set off away from the tavern.<br><br>He guided her away at a heady pace. There were some places they could stop at between the tavern and his destination, but they certainly would not be near as comfortable as his own quarters would be. And of course, his place was completely stocked with wine, oils, toys and devices the likes of which this pampered princess from the southlands had never seen or experienced before – though Lucius was of a mind to simply enjoy her naturally the first time. Later, when she came back for more – then he would introduce her to the variety of pleasures he could offer.<br><br>“This way, tis not far,” he said as they hustled down the dimly lit streets, passing others in the dank darkness of the night. He glanced back at her often, even though he still held her hand, though he was finding his luck to be quite extraordinary that night. As they continued, they passed back into the keep itself, and he nodded over towards a row of small stone structures.<br><br>“Your quarters of course are closer, but... tis best we go to mine. Far more comfortable... and harder to be spied upon,” he said, even if he had no idea whether that was actually true or not. He did know where foreign dignitaries were housed, and those were rather nice to begin with. But his quarters were befitting a man of his station, and would offer every manner of enjoyment she could desire.<br><br>Soon, they were inside the keep proper, and he was leading them down marble-lined hallways, soon to find themselves at his room door. He fished out the ky from around his neck, and used it to unlock the door, then ushered her inside.<br><br>A single small lamp above the cold, dark hearth was lit to cast just enough light around the main entryway to see by. Once they were both safely inside, he was closing the door and securing it, then turned toward her.<br><br>“Safe and sound, Lady Alerian. And alone, completely. I assure you Duncan will not intrude upon us here. This is my lair, my inner sanctum.... and I am a very important man,” he promised her, <br><br>Then he moved toward her to stand directly in front of her, his hands rising up to rest on her shoulders with a gentle touch.<br><br>“Now... how may I be of service to you, my sweet Lady?” 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>06-12-2014, 21:54:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>For all of her long years, it still took Jazelle somewhat by surprise how quickly things could change.&nbsp; In her experience, such changes were rarely in her favor.&nbsp; She had crossed the space from the tower room to Duncan's expecting ... challenge ... fencing ... as he demonstrated his control of the situation.&nbsp; Instead, she had found a willingness toward understanding, and a return to the tentative trust that they had begun building.<br><br>She had, on some level, prepared herself for this denial, had closed off certain of her expectations, disciplining her need ... and now, it seemed that it was unnecessary.&nbsp; A part of her still expected ... something else.<br><br>But Duncan's desire was real.&nbsp; She could feel it pouring off him, despite his control, seeping from his pores and suffusing his body with a delicious, fragrant heat as he moved from the bed to the window, shutting out the light and breaking the line of sight.&nbsp; &nbsp;That, with her other protections, should be enough.&nbsp; The gown she wore was not illusion, but real fabric.&nbsp; Like all of her 'real' clothes, it had been designed for easy removal.&nbsp; As Duncan began the more laborious process of shedding his garments, Jazelle stood and rid herself of hers - rather like a snake shedding its splitting skin, save in the matter of heartbeats rather than hours.&nbsp; Her form, the one she wore, was much as the one Duncan had first seen in shape and aesthetics, generous bust, narrow waist, curving hips and thighs, honey-toned skin without blemish or scar.<br><br>Slippers were discarded, left beneath the taffeta of the skirts, along with the underthings that humans seemed attached to.&nbsp; They had been naked together before, engaged in teasing and foreplay.&nbsp; Duncan was right - it was time, and long past.<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div>Bare, save for the jewelry she had worn, the amulet around her throat, the gold links and bangles about her wrist, a fine chain about her ankle, the teardrop stones dangling from her earlobes, jeweled loop suspended the fold of her navel, rings upon her fingers, she sank back on the bed in a position more of eager welcome than surrender.&nbsp; As she moved, her body rippled, changed, lightened until she was a pale form upon the dark cover of the bed, reclining slightly upon the pillows.&nbsp; Her pale eyes shone faintly in the dim light, her expression mirroring the hunger in Duncan's voice, a physical manifestation of her agreement that they had waited long enough.<br><br><em>"Come to me, my general.&nbsp; I burn to have you."</em><br><br><strong>*Thud* *thud* *thud* THUD*</strong><br><br>The banging upon the outer door was loud enough to reverberate against the stone of the walls, frantic and solid, perhaps evocative of Ducan's earlier rude awakening.<br><br><strong>*Thud* *thud* *thud* THUD* </strong><br><br>This time, there was no wait to build suspense, no wait to let the joke sink in -- only the voice of a man on a mission of urgency.<br><br>"General Vanzell, you are wanted at the armory.&nbsp; &nbsp;It's been broken into, and the guards ... the guards are murdered!"<br><br>Sudden change ... as she had thought earlier ... was almost never in her favor.&nbsp; Jazelle supposed that she should take some comfort in that, but it did not come easy.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div>"I was certain that you would not fail me."&nbsp; Zenora smiled with her eyes, silently promising a thousand delights.&nbsp; &nbsp; Had she been in her natural form, she would have rolled her eyes at how easily the mortal had raced to the bait.&nbsp; It was not even a challenge.&nbsp; He was ripe for the plucking, his desire blinding him to question or suspicion.<br><br>He led her eagerly through the streets, setting a pace that would possibly have offered discomfort to a human of her size and stature.&nbsp; For Zenora, it was but a simple matter to keep up, offering no complaint or resistance.&nbsp; "Yes, that would be be best."&nbsp; &nbsp; From his thoughts, his desires, she gleaned that the form she wore was that of a recent arrival, a representative of some distant land ... an image of warm climes, scantily clad women lolling about on couches to catch the breeze.&nbsp; <br><br>"Of course you are," she agreed in a throaty, sultry purr, at his claim that he was an important man.&nbsp; "Why else would I have chosen you above all others.&nbsp; &nbsp;Important, charming, witty ... and above all ... attentive ... handsome ... strong." &nbsp;Zenora was generous with the flattery -- it cost her little, and she, after all, wished him fully engaged, the better to take all he offered and more.<br><br>"How might you be of service to me?&nbsp; You know the answer to that, do you not?&nbsp; I want what you were offering the woman upon your lap in the tavern.&nbsp; Ambitious words, but I think you may be up to the task.&nbsp; Fuck me, as I have never been fucked before ... and I promise that I will do the same to you."&nbsp; It was not subtle, but subtlety hardly seemed necessary.&nbsp; He was used to those who offered little resistance to his charms, the lovely thick muscle that dangled between his legs no longer precisely dangling, but eager, demanding, to be put to good use.<br><br>She moved into him, letting his hands slide down her as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, rising to his neck.&nbsp; She used the leverage to pull herself up to him, pull him down to her as her lips sought his in a hungry, insistent kiss.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 13:18:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan's desire was certainly real – hadn't the desire of -every- man she'd been with, been real? Their lust, want, and need for her had likely been as real as the very breath they took – was Duncan any different in that regard? He knew he wasn't, and that shamed him somewhat, and he would not use that as an excuse. 'Just because every man before me had fallen for her sweet words and physical form, I shouldn't feel badly that I have as well'... No, such a thought was not excuse at all to him. Duncan was a man who often felt superior to his fellow man, who held himself to higher standards especially when it came to self-control and self-determination.<br><br>But here he was, trapped in her web, longing to fall into her embrace... and he had lasted no longer than every man before him had. <br><br>That realization did not hamper his thoughts, though, even if it stormed his ego. His thoughts were on her, and his desire for her in all ways. Had every man before him simply lusted for her physical form, seeking to use it to find their physical release? Or had they actually felt -something- for her in any other way – for the personality behind those eyes, for the mischief and calculating wit that she seemed to enjoy employing? For the obvious intelligence that allowed her to outwit men and lure them in even if her body alone would not do the trick?<br><br>Even now as he moved to close curtains as she requested so that no one could spy on her true form, he was so very eager to throw himself at her. For him, he felt as if he had desired her for ages. Duncan knew the truth, though – he desired a woman -like her- for ages. He had a very strict, narrow view of the type of woman that might tame him, and so far he had not met a single one in the kingdom that had even come -close- to the tall order he had put into place. But one night with Jazelle, and he knew what he wanted, plain and simple...<br><br>And that was without having even tasted her flesh. Not -truly-. The truth was that she tantalized his mind and challenged his wit, was enough on its own to make him long for her. The fact that her body drew him in even more was and added benefit, rather than the focus of his overall desire. She was, as some would say, the 'total package', and he was not such a fool as to pass it by – demon or not.<br><br>He approached her now, hands moving swiftly with practiced precision, stripping himself as she stood not far away now, the prize for the taking, her gown slipping from her body as if it had slithered down her skin. She still wore the assumed form, and it was indeed stunning – enough so that no man he could think of would be able to refuse her. Her body was still decorated, though, with jewelry and trinkets, like some garnish made of gold and other precious gems. She eased back onto the bed, positioning herself in an inviting way, saying to him without words that she was just as hungry for him as he was for her.<br><br>Her back arched, one of her feet slid along the coverlet, and as she moved, her body began to change and morph as she slowly revealed her true self to him. Her skin lightened, her eye color went solid white, the horns sprouted soundlessly from her head and her hair turned white. <br><br>Ducan let out a soft, feral growl, his hands moving suddenly quicker, the last bit of patience he had quickly melting away. His pants were yanked downward, taking his underclothes along with them, leaning over to push them down past his knees yet his eyes remained on her without flinching. He stepped out of his pants, rising upward – his manhood freed and proudly defying gravity as it pointed upward at an angle, eager to find a home buried in her silken sheathe. <br><br>With two steps he was at the bed, crawling over it, muscles tensing and flexing as he smoothly approached her on all four as if stalking her like a great hunting cat. One hand moved and slid along her calf for a moment, then planted on the bed's surface as he continued forward, his other hand moving to slid along her thigh. His heartbeat pounded so hard he could hear it in his own ears, quick and rapid, mercilessly forcing blood into all parts of his body – though it seemed as if a large potion of it was being funneled to one long, thick place in particular.<br><br>He moved up and over her, his knees sliding smoothly between her legs, then easily forced them apart. There was no preamble, no courting of her body – he meant to take it swiftly, firmly, without pause and without delay. For as little as he had known her, it had still felt like forever for him, a year or more, and it was long past time, as he had warned her, for him to enjoy what so many others had before him, and he saw little reason to delay any further.<br><br>Duncan knew it was more than that, though, more than mere lust for him. But right now... the physical demand won out.<br><br>His eyes locked with hers, looking over her exotic features, eagerly wondering if she would feel eveything in this form that he was about to do to her. His legs moved and parted – forcing hers even wider apart, baring her open and ready to receive him as he lowered his hips, the hungry slab of meat hanging between his thighs eager to claim what she offered. His eyes said something different as he gazed into hers, his head lowered slowly, lips bound for her own, wanting to kiss her at the moment of penetration... <br><br>*Thud* Thud* Thud *Thud*<br><br>The pounding of his heart was at its zenith now, loud enough to reverberate throughout his chambers...<br><br>*Thud* Thud* Thud *Thud*<br><br>No... that wasn't his heart... that was someone else at the door, and then there was the faint cry of a voice behind it beseeching his attention....<br><br>The very tip of his manhood lightly brushed her folds – that was how close he had come! He growled deeply, anger flashing across his face – not at her, of course, but the -timing- of it all. He could force himself into her, dip inside for a few long, powerful strokes... but that would be cheating her, and cheating himself... and hadn't she said something before about wanting all of him... or nothing at all?<br><br>He did allow one small pleasure, though... he lowered his lips to brush hers, a soft, gentle kiss that promised so much more, that promised pleasures -and- affection both. His kiss had meaning, at least to him, and he tried to convey that to her before he slowly rose and pulled himself away from her, his thick, stiff manhood bobbing awkwardly, heavily, as he stepped onto the floor once more and made for his clothes.<br><br>“Forgive me, Jazelle. I must see to this. It sounds dire,” he said. “If it is not – I will have those responsible flogged, and shall return as soon as I can. If it -is- dire, I shall still return as quickly as I can...”<br><br>He donned his clothing as quickly as he could, though he scarcely took his eyes from her form on his bed. She looked -good- there, on his bed, as if she belonged. The tension in his loins intensified as he covered it once more, caging it away once again beneath linen and leather. As if punishing him for such treachery, it ached almost painfully so now. He grimaced slightly as he approached her where she lay, lowering a hand down to stroke her cheek.<br><br>“If I kiss you again, I won't leave... Please feel free to make yourself comfortable. I promise to return as quickly as I can, and... I hope to find you here,” he said, and then he turned and forced himself to depart, as difficult as it was.<br><br>Exiting his chambers, he encountered the guard who had been making all the fuss. For a moment Duncan had hoped it was merely Lucius making another jest, one which would allow Duncan to ignore and send Lucius on his merry way. But alas, this was real.<br><br>The two men marched at a quick pace toward the armory, Duncan knowing the way my memory quite easily. Duncan had the man repeat the details again, his mind analyzing the information provided, the sheer shock of it all surprising and startling the general at the same time. Soon, they arrived at their destination, and if anything, Duncan realized the man was not exaggerating.<br><br>Outside the armory, two bodies lay at impossibly odd angles, necks -bent- and broken, as if they were made of sticks. Inside, four more men were scattered much as the two outside – there was no blood, strangely enough – almost as if the attacker simply didn't want to dirty himself with the stuff. Each man's head had been twisted, necks shattered, killing them brutally but instantly, and in a morbid way Duncan was grateful for that much.<br><br>“What was missing?” Duncan asked, glancing around the mess that covered the room's floor. All the cabinets, it seemed, had been emptied, as had all the buckets, barrels, racks, shelves, and any other place where arms and armor had been stored, as if someone had been searching for something in particular.<br><br>“Nothing, sir... all items are accounted for as much as we could tell. We are going through the manifests a third time...”<br><br>“Make it four times, then,” Duncan commanded, his eyes examining, brow furrowed as he looked around. There were no witnesses, and there was no missing equipment. Either the item the attacker searched for was unknown to the rest of them, or it hadn't been there in the first place – and the unmoving bodies were dead for no reason at all.<br><br>One of the corpses Duncan recognized and he moved over to it and lowered himself to one knee. Duncan reached a hand to the man's face, the helmet half-askew on his head, eyes frozen open with a look of terror. <br><br>“Polimus,” Duncan said softly. “I knew him. A veteran, knowledgeable and skilled – yet he hadn't even been able to draw his sword,” he mused, glancing down to see the man's weapons still in their scabbards. “He had a wife... three children, including a newborn...” <br><br>The general sighed. <br><br>“Have there been any reports of other attacks?”<br><br>“None yet, sir,” the original guard said. Duncan rose back up to his feet. <br><br>“Double the guard at all other major areas of import, including the Wizard's tower – even if he doesn't want it. Triple the guard at the treasury, and the King and Queen's royal chambers. And someone fetch Lucius to me, immediately,” he said. “I have six families to visit, and he should be at my side.”<br><br>“As you wish, sir,” the guard responded, snapping a crisp salute to the general as he turned and sped off to see to the general's demand. A dozen other guards silently sifted through the debris, taking stock of what was present, organizing the remnants of the chamber into some semblance of order.<br><br>Duncan sighed, glancing around.<br><br><em>~What -were- you looking for?~</em> he wondered to himself...<br><br>- - – - --- --- --- - – --- --- – - <br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>To say Lucius was a bit vain would have been an unfair assessment of the man. No, he was <em>-massively-</em> vain, and not afraid to admit it. Be that as it may, he was also often keen to realize when someone was blowing smoke up his ass, as well – but at the moment, as 'Lady Alerian' whispered her appreciation for him, he didn't sense anything amiss whatsoever.<br><br>She was grateful to see him – as she should have been.<br><br>He had no reason to be suspicious or questioning. He had enjoyed a very pleasant discussion with Lady Alerian before, and she had sounded genuinely sad that her previous commitments had prevented her from accompanying him further. But her duties were finished, understandably so given the hour – and now, she sought the company of a handsome, able local man, and that just so happened to be him. Perhaps he charmed her during their earlier discussion, or perhaps she simply loved the shape of his body. He believed it was a combination of the two, of course. Whatever the case might be, she was here now, and that was all that mattered.<br><br>She desired to speak with him in private, and he took that as a sign of her -true- intentions. They would speak, alright – their bodies pressed together, sharing sweet, intense 'conversations' that he definitely looked forward to. Her further compliments simply confirmed his suspicions of her: she was intelligent and observant, and the fact that she chose him over Duncan was not missed at all. This only made her appear even -smarter- to him, though he obviously wished no ill-will towards his comrade and general.<br><br>Inside his room, Lucius was only slightly winded from the quick getaway they had just undertaken. She purred for him now that they were alone, and she informed him quite plainly how he might serve her: she needed to be fucked, as she had never been fucked before, and she promised the same in return.<br><br>Lucius simply smiled – and quickly began the task of removing his clothing. No sooner than his shirt was unbuttoned did he find her suddenly pressed against him, her arms around his neck, pulling with surprising strength. Their lips met in a clash of wet flesh as he drank deeply of her kiss. His hands abandoned his now-open shirt and moved to her body, to her hips, gripping firmly – pulling her hard against him. His hands slipped around to her back, groping her rump, each hand filled with a buttock as he forced her loins to press firmly against his. A soft groan from his throat accompanied the stiff press of his eager manhood against her, hinting at what he wished to give her.<br><br>Poor, poor Duncan had no idea what he was missing, and Lucius simply smiled inwardly....<br><br>Only the dim lamp provided any light, and given her urgency to be alone, he felt no need to add more light to the room that might draw attention. Even when there were knocks at the door – he simply ignored them, assuming they were heralds or guards seeking Lady Alerian, and... Lady Alerian was currently indisposed....<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>07-12-2014, 22:42:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Duncan's form was appealing now as it had been the night before, as finely crafted as she had imagined even when seeing him fully clothed.&nbsp; This time, there was no game, no rules that must be followed.&nbsp; Now there was only her desire and his, a longed for and well overdue consummation, the start of many ... perhaps many more than he could have imagined when he chose to bind her to him, and him to her.&nbsp; The prospect did not daunt her in the slightest ... a rather remarkable circumstance which she would examine in depth with more leisure, later.&nbsp; Much later.<br><br><em>"My sweet general,"</em> she murmured softly as he moved up on the bed, looming over her, his touch along her thigh as if he were stroking a masterpiece sculpture, so dark against the pale ivory of her skin.&nbsp; Without her altered form, she could see him clearly, every detail sharp, mixed with the lovely colors that revealed the strength of the man beneath, the spirit.<br><br>She was ready, had been ready and aroused within moments of being near him; her body was hungry to receive his.<br><br>She snarled along with him, his rage her own, the urge to simply lift her hips and draw him into her, to have him if only for a moment, but the anger, the frustration, drained away like water from a sieve as he lowered his head and kissed her, impossible gentleness, a flash of mauve and blue with undertones of darkest violet.&nbsp; Jazelle shivered, sighed, and relaxed against the bed .... and the world lost some of its brilliance as her form shifted and coalesced, returning to the Lady Alerian, bare save for her jewelry, unconcerned who might see what had been interrupted in this form.<br><br><em>"If you need me, Duncan, you have but to call," </em>she whispered softly.<em>&nbsp; "Otherwise, I will be here."</em><br><br>When he had gone, the room felt strangely large and empty.&nbsp; Such foolishness, from one who should know better ... and yet she stayed all the same, curled up on the bed that still held his scent.<br><br>The reason for his being called away did not concern her, not beyond a mild curiosity.&nbsp; Humans were good at killing each other, and there was no reason to think this anything more ... not&nbsp; yet, anyway.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div><br>Zenora smiled faintly as Lucius ignored the knocks on the door.&nbsp; In case he had any momentary lapse of duty, any qualms, she ground her hips against the hard, eager press of his erection, her hand sliding down his side to his hip, and then to the front.&nbsp; Her fingers, palm, curled to the shape of him beneath his clothes, stroking him hungrily over the cloth.<br><br>"Lift my skirts, Lucius, tear away these clothes.&nbsp; I want your hands on me&nbsp; .... I want this in me ... and I don't want to wait another moment."<br><br>Her free hand moved to the back of his head, pulling him closer as she lifted her mouth to his, tongue invading his mouth and curling with his ... losing just a hint of control of the magic as that organ elongated, curled around his, tasting ale and desire and hunger as she stopped thinking about what she was there to do and simply ... began to feed as he pleasured her body.<br><br>Impatient, greedy, she left off stroking him into a frenzy and followed her own advice ripping the fastenings of his trousers to get at what delights lay beneath.<br><br><hr><br>The extra guards that General Vanzell had ordered were posted, not without argument from both the King and the king's wizard ... though the latter was less vehement in his protests as might otherwise have been expected.<br><br>Keeping a wizard guarded, however, is a different matter entirely, and keeping a wizard from an area he wishes to visit ... more difficult still.&nbsp; &nbsp;Those still examining the armory found the wizard at the armory proper, leaning upon his staff as he surveyed the chaos.<br><br>The senior guard tried to ... diplomatically ... urge him away, but somehow found himself persuading the door jamb rather than the wizard, as Valerian knelt ... rather stiffly ... beside one of the bodies, and gently turned the man's broken neck, his long, delicate fingers as gentle, as sorrowful, as if he were touching the body of a kitten, a puppy, even a child, that had suffered violence rather than a member of the city guard, a battle-hardened soldier.<br><br>From his cloak, he withdrew a small vial of powder, and sprinkled it upon the man's crushed neck.&nbsp; For a moment, the scent of brimstone rose up, as if from a boiled egg left out too long in the heat.&nbsp; Valerian gagged, then used his staff to rise once again to his feet. <br><br>The annoyed, and rather disoriented sergeant, was attempting to work out how the old mage had gotten from in front of him at the door into the armory itself, aided by some pointed and agitated questions, but the wizard just ignored them as he stalked out of the room.&nbsp; "Tell General Vanzell that I would have a word with him.&nbsp; Tomorrow morning will be soon enough.&nbsp; And have a priest summoned to stand duty with the guards posted at the royal suites -- one of good standing and rank."<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>08-12-2014, 00:23:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Visiting the families of the fallen was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Early in his career, when he was but a young pup learning to make his way at the lowest end of the ranks, he knew an officer who visited the families of the fallen out of respect for those who had given their lives for their King and kingdom. True, during campaigns, such visits were not practical or even possible. But when it was possible, Duncan had adopted that practice, wanting the families of the fallen to know that their loved ones did not die in vain, needlessly, and without notice from the highest levels of the monarchy. <br><br>The King, of course, thought such a thing was impractical at -all- times, and rather morbid to boot. 'Why would you subject yourself to their family's rage and tears, general? Why give them such respect when their son or daughter, brother or sister, husband or wife had simply done the duty expected of them, and fate had simply decided it was their time?'<br><br>Duncan had never been able to fully explain it to the King, yet he simply felt that it must be done.<br><br>The visits – all six of them – had been difficult. Some wanted answers. Others – like Polimus's wife – had done nothing but shed tears and wailed at their loss. One or two were angry, with bitter tears wetly staining cheeks as they clubbed the general's chest with their balled-up fists. <br><br>Yet it needed doing, and he made it done.<br><br>Hours later, once he felt that everything was handled, he finally began to make his way back to his chambers. He had not forgotten about the woman who awaited him, as she was always on the edge of his mind, teasing him, tormenting him in the sweetest way possible. He needed her now, especially after this morbid evening had damaged his mood considerably. <br><br>As he made his way back to his quarters, his pace steadily quickening as he summoned up images of his last moments with her, resplendent as she was lying on his bed in her natural form awaiting his pleasures, he thought for a moment of Lucius... The man had never arrived, and the guard he sent to find him had tried everywhere he could think of: his chambers, the garden, his usual taverns that he haunted. When Duncan asked if the guard had tried the brothels, the guard blushed and shook his head – and Duncan ordered him to do so. <br><br>But even&nbsp; that search had turned up fruitless. Duncan did not -truly- worry for his friend, a very capable warrior in his own right. Instead, Duncan assumed his friend had met with some beauty and had retreated to -her- abode in hopes of avoiding being found if needed. The general smiled faintly at the thought as he turned the corner that fed into the hallway that ended at his chamber doors. He smiled wider as he thought of the possibility that Lucius was sheltered away with one of the Blankenship women... or, perhaps, both of them. Lucius had a fondness for multiple women at a time, thinking himself some sort of stud. A week ago, Duncan might have been envious of such a thing, Lucius delving into flesh that Duncan had sometimes desired. But not now... Not anymore. And, if he had his way – not again.<br><br>Then there was the message from the Wizard. He wished to see the general on the morrow, in the morning 'would be soon enough'. If it wasn't an urgent matter, Duncan would just assume visit the wizard when it suited his own schedule. He didn't exactly 'dislike' the wizard so much as he simply didn't -trust- him... <br><br>Ironic, given that Duncan had just confessed absolute trust to a -<em>succubus</em>-, by way of comparison.<br><br>The wizard's command to add priests to the ranks for the guards was a keen – and curious – one, though. Duncan did not counter that order, simply deciding to discuss it with the Wizard the next day. Besides, another set of eyes amongst the guards surely wouldn't hurt, and the priesthood often offered solace and inspiration to many of the soldiery who believed in such things.<br><br>As he had done countless times before, though, he pushed back the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing due to the events of the evening, packing them away, pushing them into the darkest recesses of his mind, those little-used parts of his memory where cob-webs would grow if such a thing were possible. He focused anew on what lie -head- of him... what hopefully lie waiting for him on his bed... <br><br>The -need- to have her now was stronger than before, and it was a need born of something more than simple lust.<br><br>&nbsp;-- - - - -- - -- - -- - - - -- - -- - --&nbsp; - ---<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lady Alerian knew quite well how to distract Lucius. He had heard the insistent banging on his door, and -she- had responded first, stroking him, rubbing him, urgently demanding he scratch her itch. <br><br>Hmmm... follow a pushy, demanding soldier begging for Lucius to come break up a bar fight or discipline an unruly drunken solider.... or stay here with a gorgeous, sensual, eager beauty like Lady Alerian who had openly and bluntly demanded use of his cock?<br><br>The choice wasn't exactly a difficult one to make.<br><br>She reinforced her desire with more words, telling him what to do in order to enjoy her all the quicker. <br><br><em>~Well of -course- she wants your cock in her,~</em> he told himself, providing his own mental cheering section, as if he were participating in a joust of sorts. Of course she doesn't want to wait another moment. It wasn't every woman who had the chance to ride – or be ridden by – a stallion such as himself. He only needed to make sure to do his duty well, so that she would come calling again, eager for another touch, another caress, another climax.<br><br><em>They always did.</em><br><br>Their kiss quickly escalated from heated to scorching – her tongue was a bit longer than normal, which only made his balls tingle sweetly at the prospects of how she could put -that- to good use. He felt nothing – at least not for now – as she began to feed. His own thoughts, feelings and will were swamped with little more than lust, but it was an overwhelming force. A wolf could be gnawing at his ankle in that moment and he likely would not have noticed.<br><br>Her hand that stroked the elongated, thickened part of the front of his breeches moved to the buckle, the buttons, frantically seeking to free him. He smiled against her kiss – she wanted him, and wanted him badly. He couldn't help but wonder, somewhere in the back of his mind, if the Lady Alerian had ever been so frantic with Duncan.<br><br>Soon, he felt the cool air that signaled freedom. In return, his hands slid down beneath her buttocks, lifted her suddenly, and pressed her back against the nearby wall – pinning her there with one arm scooped beneath her thigh. The other moved to pull up the dress as she had wished, and the eagerness she expressed to have him pull her dress up likely meant one thing – which he confirmed a moment later.<br><br><em>No panties</em>. She knew -exactly- how to get straight to his heart.<br><br>To say he speared her in that next moment would be a gross injustice to how hard he drove into her. A ballista would have a more difficult time launching its spear with more force as he drove her ass back against the wall behind her, her waiting wetness a testament to her own desire for him, receiving him in one fell stroke. Had she been soaked all day for him, perhaps? He liked to think so. And if not... it really did not matter. <br><br>His hips began to rock, his hand around her leg urging her to hook her thighs about his waist, if she wished. His hand let the dress ruffles rest up between their bodies as his hand no sought and groped her breast, squeezing hard, tightly, fondling and groping rudely. He could only currently get part of himself inside her, and he wanted it -<em>all</em>- buried to the hilt. He wanted to deliver his full length, to demonstrate what she had summoned from him. Their kiss continued of course, her tongue seeking to dominate his – and for a time he was fine with allowing it. But he knew the tables would turn, soon enough, and she'd be eating out of his hand after he drew her first finish from her.<br><br><em>Little did he know....</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>08-12-2014, 20:05:38</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle was dozing, the kind of 'sleep' that she did when her energy levels weren't significantly depleted but there was really nothing to press her to activity.&nbsp; If any had approached Duncan's door, including the general himself, she would have opened her eyes immediately, with no transition between rest and wakefulness.&nbsp; &nbsp; She was aware, on some level, that her would-be lover was under stress, but there was no indication that he was in danger or need -- it seemed no more than an unpleasant duty.&nbsp; Once he was finished, she would provide solace and a great deal more, and she looked forward, once more, to resuming their tryst.<br><br>Yet, little more than a few candlemarks after he had departed, Jazelle felt the irresistible pull of Valerian's summoning circle.&nbsp; Her eyes opened, and she sat up in the bed, clothing herself in the illusion of a diaphanous dressing gown and slippers before she surrendered to the summoning.<br><br>To an observer, it would have appeared as if she had slid off the darkest side of the bed and ... simply winked from sight into the shadows with her step.&nbsp; Left behind was a heated imprint of her body in the covers, and the very real clothing that 'Lady Alerian' had been wearing.&nbsp; She spared no worry over what Duncan would think when he returned - with luck, she would be back before he returned, and if not, she had explained her connection to the royal wizard ... a connection that had nothing to do with physical pleasures..<br><br><hr><br><em>"I trust that this is important," </em>Jazelle commented mildly as she found herself in the familiar circle drawn in the corner of his workroom.&nbsp; The woven rug that he used to cover it between uses had been pulled away in a manner different from the wizard's habitual meticulous manner, and there were tomes open and spread across the flat surfaces.&nbsp; The wizard himself turned at her arrival, arresting his pacing.<br><br>"I doubt that I'm interrupting anything vital, Jazelle.&nbsp; General Vanzell will likely be busy for an hour or two more, and given your current predicament ..."<br><br><em>"Don't gloat, Valerian, " </em>Jazelle reprimanded him mildly, a faint smile upon her lips, her body relaxed in a way quite different from the way she had appeared when she had requested his help.&nbsp; <em>"It is unbecoming one of your stature."</em><br><br>The wizard gave her a look of mild surprise, his gray eyebrows climbing up toward his hairline.&nbsp; <em>"Did the General have cause to re-think the terms of his wager?&nbsp; That would be the first bit of good news I've had tonight."</em><br><br><em>"No ... but it seems that my concern over his intentions was ... premature.&nbsp; We have come to somewhat of an understanding, though he was called away on business before we could finalize negotiations."</em>&nbsp; Her eyes sharpened, narrowed, as she finished assimilating the clues to warrant the conclusion that the reason the wizard had summoned her in the middle of the night had nothing to do with her wager with Duncan.&nbsp; <em>"Has this to do with the killing of the guards in the armory?"</em><br><br>"How did you know about that?"<br><br><em>"I was in the general's quarters when the guards came to notify him, Valerian.&nbsp; I would have to be deaf as well as stupid not to know."</em><br><br>The wizard gave her a skeptical look, which only prompted her to widen her eyes innocent and blink at him, arms held open in an instinctive gesture that likely was designed to draw attention to her form beneath the ridiculous bit of tissue she was wearing.<br><br>"Could you not have found something more appropriate to wear?"<br><br><em>"I'm sorry, Valerian.&nbsp; Is there some court protocol regarding the dress one should wear when being summoned by the royal wizard in the middle of the night?&nbsp; I would not wish to break protocol."</em><br><br>"Oh, nevermind." Sometimes the wizard thought he preferred the succubus' company when she was in a temper or wing-deep in some plot or another.&nbsp; Yet he knew her well enough that he was certain making her further aware of his discomfort would only drive her to increase it.&nbsp; Just because they were allies did not change her nature, nor his.<br><br>"I have certain safeguards in place throughout the keep ... alarms, traps, triggers and the like.&nbsp; &nbsp;When the armory was attacked, those triggers alerted me.&nbsp; Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, the attack was over.&nbsp; Something ... or someone ... killed the guards&nbsp; and ransacked the armory.&nbsp; What the intruder sought was not there.&nbsp; I performed certain tests upon the body of one of the guards.&nbsp; &nbsp;I had hoped that I was ... needlessly worrying ... but my further investigations indicate that my concerns are valid."<br><br>He fixed the succubus with both beady, concerned eyes.&nbsp; He did not smile as he posed his next, clearly rhetorical, question.<br><br>"You are, I assume, familiar with the Balor?"<br><br>It was not truly possible for Jazelle's face to drain of color, but for a moment she went still, impossibly still, before she heaved a long sigh and lowered her head.<br><br><em>"What would you have of me?"</em><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">​(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>​When Duncan reached his chambers and entered, having unlocked the door and made it fast behind him, for a moment it seemed that the room was empty.&nbsp; The bed was still faintly mussed, with the faint imprint of bodies upon it, and 'Lady Alerian's discarded gown still lay in a soft pile on the floor where she had discarded it, and her perfume lingered.<br><br>And then, before he could do much more than register her absence, she stepped once more from the shadows, as if she had carved a slit in them with a long-nailed finger and then simply passed through the opening.&nbsp; She was in her 'envoy' guise, dressed in a thin gown that only faintly obscured the shape of her body beneath, her face showing ... concern ... and then relief.&nbsp; Without a word, she simply crossed the distance between them soundlessly, her form shifting and melding into the one he had said he preferred as she reached for him and drew him close in a tight, comforting embrace.<br><br><em>"My general," </em>she whispered, her head bending to rest upon his shoulder, the hard curve of a horn pressing against his skin, heated, smooth, and alive - like polished ivory that had never been cleaved.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div>Zenora made a sound of triumph into Lucius' mouth as he slammed her against the wall, his cock finding her entrance with the ease borne of practice.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unlike those humans who sold their bodies, succubi had been designed to eke out every drop of pleasure from their lovers' bodies, whether they be endowed like the most fearsome demon of the pits, a human whose manhood barely rated the title, or any other male who possessed the basic form.&nbsp; No amount of use had stretched Zenora's inner walls beyond a speedy recovery, and she was almost uncomfortably tight for the first thrust, despite being wet and welcoming.<br><br>She hardly waited for his urging before her arms shifted, and her legs lifted, wrapping herself around him as if he were a sapling tree she intended to climb.&nbsp; By the second thrust, she had found his shape and molded her body to fit it.&nbsp; For a human, he wasn't bad ... though the force of his desire for her ... his pilfered, misdirected, desire ... would have made almost any shape pleasurable so long as he was hard enough to make it count, and forceful enough to satisfy her needs.&nbsp; Lucius was that,&nbsp; and Zenora showed her approval by a hard suckle of his tongue, a bite sharp enough to sting a bit as she ripped her mouth from his and wriggled on him for a better position.<br><br>Her weight was not inconsiderable. as if her form were comprised of muscle, strength beneath the softness.&nbsp; She used that strength, letting Lucius concentrate on holding her body against the wall as he thrust, encouraging him to greater efforts with body and words.&nbsp; "That's it, harder.&nbsp; I won't break.&nbsp; I've been wanting you for what feels like forever.&nbsp; I knew you ... would know how to satisfy."<br><br>When she was sure that he was far gone enough in the thrusting to shift her weight, she freed an arm enough to reach to the illusory bodice of the dress, and used her magic to simulate the ripping of cloth as she bared her breasts to him.&nbsp; Such sounds, such eagerness, usually worked to inspire men to greater efforts, and her illusion would tear just like cloth, spurring his desire to even greater heights.<br><br>Men ... such lovely, useful creatures.&nbsp; When he spilled his seed, she would feast ... and perhaps after, there would be time for a leisurely dessert.<br><br>And the next time, she would make him hers, and soon ... soon ... she would convey his soul to the abyss, her toy until she tired of it.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>09-12-2014, 08:44:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>At first, in those brief moments when he turned to face his bed and saw it empty, his already heavy heart seemed to grow in weight even further. Perhaps she had simply grown tired or bored of waiting, or perhaps she had been summoned. Duncan did not see a woman like her as being the type to 'wait around' on him, and he felt a tad bit guilty for making her wait as long as he had. <br><br>Her gown, the gown that Lady Alerian had worn that day, still lay pooled on the floor beside the bed where she had removed it earlier. He could still smell her perfume – perhaps she had not been gone long? <br><br>Hadn't she said he need only think of her, and she would -know-, and come to him unless she was seriously invovled in other matters? Something about that appealed to him, knowing that he could simply 'call' for her, to close his eyes and whisper her name and wherever she was – she would hear him. It was as romantic a notion as he had ever heard, one lover calling to another across any distance, and being heard. Yet something about it also did not sit well with him – she was no 'dog' to be called upon whenever he whistled, and he never wanted her to feel that way, or feel that he treated her that way.<br><br>Perhaps it was merely fate, then, or perhaps she had sensed his longing for her, but a moment later, Jazelle stepped smoothly from the shadows, moving with that grace that seemed to belong to her and her alone, a fluid movement of the feminine body that no mere mortal woman could hope to imitate. She was back in the shape of Lady Alerian, and she wore a thing gown that faintly obscured the curves beneath. Where had she gone, he wondered... dressed like -that-? <br><br>Such thoughts were vacated, though, when she approached him, her form shifting into that which he longed to see. She was back to her 'real' self just as they embraced, arms slithering around one another as she turned her head to lean against his shoulder, the smooth, heated surface of one of her horns resting against his skin. She whispered to him, calling him her general, and he felt compelled to reply in some way.<br><br>“My Jazelle...,” he whispered in return, one of his hands angling upward to stroke the long, silky white hair on the back of her head. <br><br>“My business is completed for the night, and I am all yours,” he said, and after a moment he leaned back slightly, and moved a hand round to her chin, gently lifting it and turning her face to look at his.<br><br>“May I have you now?” he asked bluntly. He only wanted her if she was willing and as eager as he was, and if that had changed, or the moment of passion been lost for tonight – he wanted to know. He could wait if that was necessary.<br><br>But whether she answered favorably or not, he could at -least- still kiss her – which he lowered his lips toward hers to do at that moment while she considered her answer.<br><br>&nbsp;-- - - - -- - -- - -- - - - -- - -- - --&nbsp; - ---<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>The first couple thrusts were powerful, meant to spearhead the rest of his oncoming assault, to open the path, and to spread her juices along his length so that he could begin something much harder and faster. Her fit was tight, far more than he had honestly expected, but that was a -pleasant- surprise, for certain. Too many times Lucius had brought home a woman for the night, only to feel as if he were fucking a cup of water, even with his larger-and-average equipment. <br><br>It was often the sour not that would ruin an otherwise wonderfully delicious evening.<br><br>But, he could tell he would not have that issue with Lady Alerian at all.<br><br>He couldn't wait to see -just- how exotic she was, being from a far away land. She began right off with something different – her mouth taking hold of his tongue and sucking it -painfully-, her teeth biting it enough to send a stinging sensation along it, causing him to grunt in surprise.<br><br>Oh -my-... so -that- was how they did things down south, was it? Two could play -that- game....<br><br>Her mouth let loose his tongue, and her lower body wiggled in order to accepted him better, letting him slip more fully into her tight confines. His mouth went to her neck – and there he kissed, licked – and then bit hard enough to equal the force she had used on his tongue, his teeth -nearly- piercing the skin.<br><br>Her voice egged him on, asking for harder treatment – and he answered, thrusting roughly. She promised he wouldn't break her – and still he thrust -harder-. She wanted him. She was confident he could do this for her... satisfying her to her heart's content.<br><br>Lucius closed his eyes as he pumped her tight pussy mercilessly, each stab of his solid cock penetrating her like some fleshy dagger, again and again. He felt her moving an arm, and opened his eyes just in time to see her literally rip the cloth to free her breass, which came tumbling out in a pair of full yet firm jiggling masses. He groaned deeply, lifting her slightly so that he was fucking -upward- into her, her back still pressed firmly against the wall. His head lowered quickly, his mouth finding one of her nipples, suckling it -hard-, nipping it with his teeth just as roughly as she had bit his tongue. Oh, he could certainly play that game – letting them nip and mark each other like animals...<br><br>His mouth quickly let go her first nipple with a loud, audible -POP-, then bounced to the other, sucking it hard and pulling it out from her body as his tongue raped the nipple inside his mouth with a flurry of licks and flutters. His hips curled upward still, thrusting, quickly starting a faint sheen of sweat on his brow and shoulders form the effort of hammering away at her as well as holding her aloft. <br><br>And it didn't take long for that special sensation to begin to grow in his loins. He was close already... but there was -no way- he was going to let her off so easily...<br><br>He suddenly slow, stopped, and let his cock slide from her, twitching with silent rage as Lucius withdrew completely from the pleasure.<br><br>“Oh no you don't, Lady,” he whispered up to her, a mischievous smile on his face. “I have no plans to let you off so easily...,” he warned, and then he was carrying her, swooping her up in his arms and turning to head deeper into his quarters. <br><br>The brief respite might not make him last -that- much longer, but there was no way he was going to spill his seed in the receiving area of his chambers. Seed was meant to be spilled in the bedroom, and that's where he meant to take her. Arriving there, he did not hesitate to haul her over to the bed – and then unceremoniously dumped her upon it.<br><br>Without waiting, his hands moved to his clothes, continuing the job they had begun at the entrance. <br><br>“Gods you are beautiful,” he whispered, thoughts of the other possible partners for the evening completely gone by now, focused solely on the one woman he had -hoped- to seduce.<br><br>Sometimes... dreams really did came true. And sometimes... dreams led to nightmares.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>10-12-2014, 02:38:26</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>With Duncan's arms around her, Jazelle wanted nothing but to answer in the emphatic affirmative, to draw him down onto the bed and draw his cares away with her touch, her kisses.&nbsp; It was not a completely foreign feeling, but it was unique enough to bring her something akin to wonder.&nbsp; And yet, she had assumed a responsibility for him and for his well-being that was not superseded by her desires.&nbsp; She returned his kiss, with passion that was softened only slightly by her concern.&nbsp; <em>"But a moment, my sweet.&nbsp; &nbsp;I have something for you."</em><br><br>From someplace, assuredly not her thin robes, she drew a golden band, its surface etched with a vine-like design and set with a tiger eye stone. <em> "Would you wear this, Duncan?&nbsp; &nbsp;It bears an enchantment of protection against creatures from the abyss, weakening both their illusions and bringing discomfort.&nbsp; It is not a powerful deterrent but ... a heartbeat may be the difference between danger and safety should you find yourself in such fell presence."</em><br><br>Valerian's secrets were not hers to give, but she found that she was unwilling to trust to his assurances that the Balor whose presence he had sussed out would be revealed by his magical wards alone -- the keep was too large, and the wizard's strength would be sorely tested were he to stand alone against even the weakest Balor she had ever encountered.<br><br>Yet, he was not alone - he had the forces of a kingdom to command, as did Duncan ... and Jazelle was quite certain that the wizard would live long enough to say 'I told you so' for many long years to come -- as would Duncan.<br><em><br>"And now, there is nothing I would rather than to to begin again, from whence you were called away ... if it please you as well."</em><br><br>The succubus was well aware that his curiosity might well overcome his desires, which she would sorely regret ... but it was a mark of how far she had come from that which she had once been that seeing to his safety before indulging their desires was her first priority.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was time yet for both.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)<br></div>Zenora was quite happy with her mortal's enthusiasm and lack of inhibitions -- and, of course, the energy she drew from him was intoxicating.&nbsp; It was tempting, oh, so tempting, to simply drain him dry as as he spilled his seed ... perhaps she would, regardless of what her master commanded.&nbsp; It was likely he would not reward her regardless of the outcome, so it simply made sense to take what she could now ...<br><br>She snarled when Lucius stopped, pulled his slick, coated member from her nethers, fury that he dared raw upon her face for an instant before she masked it with the semblance of approval.&nbsp; The night was young, and there was no true reason to hurry, after all.<br><br>The human was strong, muscles rippling his arms, his legs, as he carried her into his bedroom, and dumped her on the bed.&nbsp; Her eyes flashed at that, though such tiny fall could not damage her ... but again she reasserted control as his hands moved to shed his clothing and he whispered of her beauty as his desire licked across her flesh, sweet as kisses.<br><br>Zenora was neither meticulous nor gentle as she finished with the illusion of clothing, ripping the disgustingly mild colored gown and baring her body.&nbsp; Lucius's knowledge of what lay beneath the clothing was nothing more than what his desires hoped to find, generous breasts, a narrow waist, curvaceous hips and thighs ... the color of her nipples, the shape of her navel, the neat auburn bush at the apex of her thighs, the curve of her calf and even the shape of her feet were formed solely by what he wished to see.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was easier that way, and it pleased the succubus as she reaped the success of her efforts by the roiling boil of his need for her as she effortlessly pulled herself up onto the bed's center in a lascivious pose of welcome as she licked her lips, and let her hands trail down her body.<br><br>"Come to me, Lucius.&nbsp; I will make your dreams all come true." &nbsp;Especially the nightmares, the delicious, spicy horrors that he combatted with such lovely excesses of the flesh.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>10-12-2014, 08:45:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The kiss was slow, gentle, but he could feel and sense the passion that seemed to lurk just beneath the surface of her lips – just as his own boiled and brewed almost violently below his own. It felt like forever since he had wanted her the first time, though it had not truly been more than a pair of days. Still, his drive was strong, his body's urges as healthy and virile as they had ever been. And she had teased and taunted him enough to the point where she had made the torture -feel- as if it had been months in the making.<br><br>But now, finally, his wish would be granted, and he would finally be able to-...<br><br>“But a moment, my sweet...” she said, and he let out a shallow groan. Was she purposely trying to drive him mad with lust? He had read stories about such men, driven to the point that their stones finally burst with anticipation, killing their owner instantly. Was that her goal, he wondered? But he smiled, knowing that the waiting would make the claiming of her all the more powerful.<br><br>She offered him a gift, then... a golden band, and he blinked at it for a moment, wondering if she was going do what he -thought- she was going to do. She asked if he would wear it, and his heart pounded almost brutally in his big chest. But she went on, and explained the reason for her request – and it had little to do with bonding herself to him and instead it was a talisman against creatures of the abyss. He collected himself smoothly, only slightly disappointed that the golden band hadn't had more... meaning?... for her. But he took the band from her and turned it this way and that, looking it over. <br><br>Duncan's mind continued to think on her words, though, and then it moved on to motive. Why would she ask him to wear such a thing? To protect himself from -her-? He wanted to ask her, to delve into detail for the reasons regarding the gift. Was she aware of something he wasn't? He began to wonder about the assignment of priests at the important places in the keep – and his mind immediately began drawing connections. Did -she- know something about the night's events that she wasn't telling him, and offered the ring as a way to afford him some amount of protection? Or was it something else?<br><br>“I've worn your collar, Jazelle. Surely I can wear your ring,” he said with a smile, and he brought his hands together and gently placed the band of gold around whatever finger it would best fit. <br><br>And then she was speaking her desires again, wanting once more to continue from where they had left off earlier.<br><br>“Gladly,” he smiled, saying the word in a low, husky tone. Oh yes, it most certainly -would- please him, and it struck him only a bit odd that he was putting his own desires above his duty, in order to finally have her.<br><br>He looked down into her eyes, at her face, tracing every curve and plane of it with his eyes. His hands rose to her shoulders, gently grasping the gossamer thin material she now wore, and pull outwared to the edge of each of her shoulders. The material became less slack, but wide enough such that he was able to slide the material down her shoulders, down her arms, the material slowly and catching along the rounded curves of her breasts. His hands shifted, easing the gossamer down over both orbs with a gentle touch, and then it fell downward to be captured by her hips. <br><br>Her torso exposed – he bent his back and lowered his head downward – and with a warm, gentle purr, he captured one of her nipples in his mouth. Gently he suckled, tongue lathering and sliding over it. Her gown rested around the width of her hips, and he seemed content to leave it there for now, as one of his hands rose up to offer a palm beneath the breast he was tasting – lifting it gently so that he might fit more of her delciate flesh into his mouth. <br><br>And slowly, gently, she'd feel the pressure of him pushing against her, urging her back to the nearby bed...<br><br>&nbsp;-- - - - -- - -- - -- - - - -- - -- - --&nbsp; - ---<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lucius took Alerian's snarls and growls as a sign of her -need- for him – and he smiled because of it. She was -very- needy, he decided, and he was luckily the only man who could fulfill that need for her. She also gave him a somewhat defiant look when he tossed her onto the bed...<br><br>This royal wench likely wasn't used to being treated like some common tavern whore. She was probably expecting Lucius to bow and scrape and grovel before kissing her, touching her, dipping himself inside her with a, 'May I penetrate your royal cunt, your majesty'? But if that was her expectation – she was going to be in for a night full of disappointment...<br><br>Well, maybe not a night -full- of it.<br><br>What lie beneath her clothing, though, was perfection as he had always imagined it. Perfect, generous breasts... narrow waist, curvy hips, slender thighs, even her nipples and the bush at her apex were -perfect-. As his eyes gaze down her body, his need and want for her grew, which she would surely feel. She seemed to sense it, too – perhaps by the way he had frozen for a moment, as if in aw when it came time to view all of her in the nude.<br><br>She moved up the bed, struck an inviting pose, and licked her lips, her hands trailing down her body. She beckoned him to come closer, come let her make his dreams come true, and for the first time in a long time, he believed it might be possible for a single woman to do that for him.<br><br>He climbed upon the bed, his manhood bobbing and swaying left and right as he moved, crawling toward her, making his way between her thighs. His eyes remained fixed on her perfect face, her eyes that he wished he could simply -swim- in, her lips that he simultaneously wanted against his own, and the head of his cock. And slowly, his thighs forced hers apart, preparing to continue where they left from the entryway.<br><br>He smiled at her, allowing a short, low chuckle to fill his throat. “You already have, Lady Alerian. Never have I seen finer flesh,” he said – and then dipped himself back into her with a loud gasp.<br><br>Soaked, she was, her folds and subsequent tunnel slick for his welcoming. His eyes drooped closed, and he wasted no time in speeding his hips into motion, thrusting rapidly, setting a healthy pace that rocked the bed beneath them. One hand held his arm extended straight, his body held above her, while the other moved, his hand groping her gorgeous breast greedily, her soft flesh bulging between each of his fingers. Even her nipples – plump and thick like the tips of his thumbs – were stiff and eager to be pleased. <br><br>For a moment he imagined her cunt tightening around his thickness – like a velvety-wet noose enclosing around his member from base to tip. He moaned deeply, knowing that it was simply his imagination – yet his thrusts intensified... <br><br>“Sweet Lady....,” he whispered as he fucked her, then, drilling her into his mattress, eager to make his presence known – and remembered to her – for quite some time.<br><br>His lips lowered, crushing against hers, demanding that she parted hers for a deep, sensual kiss. But nothing their hands or lips did would slow the rocking motion, the rapid hammering that he used on her sex. Many minutes later, when someone like her could easily feel his tension mounting, quickly rising upward... his end was clearly in sight. At which time....<br><br>He stopped again, groaning, well before the point of losing his top.<br><br>“Oh noooo you don't,” he moaned softly in her ear. “You don't get off -that- easy, Lady. How rude a hos would I be to spill far too quickly for a lady of your quality?” he asked in what he thought was a rhetorical way. Little did he know, losing his load quickly was -precisely- what the succubus had in mind.<br><br>“It seems that to do that, you would be cheated of pleasure, yourself...”<br><br>He eased himself out of her -again- replacing his slick, glistening cock with a pair of fingers that he used to stroke her clit directly. It was a smooth transition, though now there was nothing of him within her, but his fingers stroked her in such a way that he knew would bring most any woman to their knees... which, he had discovered long ago, was quite a pleasant position of its own.<br><br>“We'll get you to have some fun first, my lady... I would offer nothing less for our esteemed guest...”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-12-2014, 02:29:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Had he asked, Jazelle would have answered to the best of her ability, but she was glad to let the explanations wait until the morning.&nbsp; It felt that she had waited long enough, and the knowledge that Duncan wanted her just as much ... without enchantment of any kind other than the ambient sort that was a part of her being ... was a heady, welcome sensation that complemented her physical desires like spices employed by a master in the kitchen.<br><br>The fabric of her robe, spun out of her will and ambient particles, energy, would have been simple enough to dispel, but she enjoyed the feel of his hands peeling it away, baring her body without the need to command or bargain for him to do so.&nbsp; Her breasts were pale, cool in color despite the orange glow from the lamps, but warm to the touch, and just as they had responded to Duncan's caress in her abode, they did so here with immediate eagerness ... the intimate caress all the more delightful for being borne of desire rather than compulsion or illusion.<br><br>At the first movement of his body, urging her backward, she took over that lead, moving slowly enough that he need not cease his attentions unless he wished.&nbsp; As her legs eased backward, the robe melted away, leaving her again naked, stripped of both fabric and illusion, though her jewelry again remained., warm colored accessories on a body that outwardly appeared to be sculpted of some material composed of living ivory, but soft and supple to the touch.<br><br>When she reached the bed, she stopped, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders as she very, very gently tugged him fully upright again, so she could help remove his clothes.&nbsp; &nbsp;He had done it himself the last time, but this time, she was too impatient to touch him to wait.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could feel, taste, his desire for her, heating and mingling with her own.&nbsp; Anyone coming to his door now ... or for the remainder of the night ... might well find themselves battling an urge for a midnight swim in the moat, or something equally undesirable.<br><br>Without hurry, despite her impatience, she worked his tunic loose, and then leaned in to tease the skin below the open collar with her mouth, her tongue, her teeth, as her hands slid down to the hem and beneath, her flattened palms sculpting the muscle of his sides as she raised the cloth on the backs of her hands and her wrists.<br><br>When she could no longer kiss his neck, his collarbone, without impeding the progress of his undressing, she reluctantly eased back, so that she could assist him in lifting the shirt off over his head.&nbsp; &nbsp;When that task was almost complete, her fingers returned to his stomach, then slid lower to the fastenings of his pants.&nbsp; Skillful, practiced, eager fingers undid those as well, freeing the lovely swell of him once more before bending at the knees to slide his lower garments down his thighs, her eyes hungrily on his face even as her lips, face, brushed along the silky, hot surface of his cock.<br><em><br>"You are beautiful, my general," </em>she whispered, huskily, her tone one of sincerity and hunger.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div><br>The mortal's enthusiasm was gratifying, his cock deliciously hard and used in a manner that an incubus might well have benefited by the learning.&nbsp; Zenora enjoyed the thrusting, the rising heat and tension that the rhythmic strokes produced ... her body was formed, reacted, as a human woman, and she possessed virtually the same triggers, save for one ... however pleasurable she found being fucked, being kissed and stroked, her release would not come until she received his ... and Zenora had never had reason to learn patience, or to expand on her body's capabilities.<br><br>Lucius' determined efforts, his teasing, rather than having the desired effect, were driving the succubus to a state of impatient frustration.<br><br>For several moments, she writhed against his fingers, moaning and lifting her hips as if the enjoyable sensation was transporting her to the heights ... until her patience ebbed and she opened her eyes and fixed his gaze with her own.&nbsp; The spring sky blue of her irises shrank, as if the pupils had dilated, the blackness of her eyes overtaking her disguise, and without warning she lurched for him and bore him roughly down to the bed as her mouth found his, her tongue invading and encircling his.&nbsp; Zenora's strength was easily the equal for most men, no matter her form, and she pushed his shoulders down into the mattress as her legs moved to hold his hips.&nbsp; Without ceremony, and with a low, nearly feral growl, she impaled her slick, tight, aching pussy with his cock and began a slow rocking motion up and down, though by the time she released his mouth and raised her body to better accomodate the rise and fall of her hips, any attempt at 'slow' was all but abandoned.<br><br>"This," she said with a growl, her eyes still darker than they should have been, "is what I want.&nbsp; Fuck me, Lucius ... <strong>oh!</strong>" &nbsp;Her eyes rolled back in her head, just a bit, and there was no more need to fake anything&nbsp; ... though if the exasperating mortal attempted to slip her grasp again, she would take him regardless, and have that which she craved.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>11-12-2014, 10:08:48</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan's eyes feasted on her unlike any time before as his hands lowered her gown. He understood the gown itself might have been an illusion – or it might not have. All he truly knew was that the gown barely concealed anything regardless – but it concealed enough to make him ache in all the right places, though that was hardly necessary where she was concerned.<br><br>Even as she stepped backward, his hands were touching her, easing the robe further down her body, never slowing, never hesitating. He would finally have her now, and unless she used some sort of magic to intentionally avoid him – nothing was going to prevent it now. Nothing was going to stop him from having what he had desired since he first stepped into her chambers. Only now, that desire was infinitely greater, stronger, more potent than every before. <br><br>The jewelry she wore accented her body, especially the color contrast of it, and he made no mention of it. He'd be careful not to snag it or catch it on his body, his fingers, his lips or skin. To him, she was a piece of ivory carved into the perfect example of womanhood, gilded in gold and other colors that she most preferred.<br><br>Upon reaching the bed, though, her hands moved upward to help him with his own clothes. Duncan had all but forgotten that he was clothed, and her hands on him reminded him of such quickly. He blinked, raising his hands to quickly begin the act of disrobing, moving efficiently, purposely, his eyes never moving from hers. With her hands in the mix, it did not take long at all for his tunic to be loosened as his hands moved down to his breeches. <br><br>His tunic loose around his neck, she leaned in to tease the skin just below the open collar of his shirt with her mouth, tongue and teeth. He moaned – loudly, not even bothering to refrain or corral the noise as it left his throat. The sensuality of the moment was growing with every second, heightening his senses, urging him on. Jazelle's hands slipped beneath the hem of his tunic and slid up his sculpted obliques, his body a firm slab of muscle from which he was made. <br><br>By this time, with the touch of her mouth and teeth upon his skin so close to his neck, and with her hands on his flanks, his own hands had simply stopped functioning, and left their position when she pulled his tunic up, forcing her head back just far enough so that the fabric could slip up and over his head. He raised his arms to facilitate this, and a moment later he tossed his tunic to the side like it was so much worthless debris.<br><br>Her fingers slid down the ripples of his abs, tense and tight as well, until her hands reached the place where his own had failed him. Within a breath, she had his breeches loosened and undone, freeing his member that was ready for her, lengthy and thick, more than adequate for a man of his size and stature. She then bent at the knees, lowering herself down before him – providing another erotic vision to haunt his memories. His eyes followed her as she knelt before him, her eyes intent on looking up at him even as she allowed the thick tip to brush lightly against her cheek, and then the faintest brush of it against her lips.<br><br>She complimented him on -his- beauty, her voice husky and sincere. Slowly, he raised his hands upward, fingertips gliding along the solid texture of her horns. It would be so -easy- to grasp them, to use them to pull her face onto his length – but he hid that thought for the moment.<br><br>One of his hands moved, then, down to the base of his manhood, slowly, gently taking it in his grip. And then just as gently, he used it to guide the tip of his cock wherever he wished... along her cheek, along her other cheek, her chin... down along her neck, the warm cockshead blazed a trail of heat and desire.... and eventually, he guided the tip to her lower lip, lightly dragging it along her smooth skin even more... <br><br>His fingertips still explored the curves and ridges of her horns, though – completely enthralled by something so unique in his experience... and something so -her-...<br><br>“I don't expect you to hold back... at all,” he whispered to her. “Do not go easy on me, or refrain from truly enjoying yourself. I am actually quite hardy and can take what you can give,” he suggested, though he didn't know that for sure... though he obviously hoped to find out....<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lucius continued to take her growing frustration, as a sign of an impending climax that might very well shake the walls of his quarters. She was so responsive, and so very eager. She talked like a a whore (which, not surprisingly, he loved) and she moved like one, too. It made him wonder if ALL the women of her homeland were as skilled, and if so... he believed he was simply living in the wrong part of the world!<br><br>As they progressed, though, the physicality began to grow. He could feel it, and he smiled – yes, she was going to erupt like a volcano, sooner rather than later, and he wanted to be there, cock stuffed inside her, so that she would know -who- brought her to that point. In the dim light of his room, her eyes looked -black-, almost eerily so, but he knew it was just a trick of light. She then suddenly lurched, knocking him off-balance and onto his back, her mouth immediately on him in as hungry a maneuver as he had ever felt delivered against him.<br><br>The kiss was heated, and unbelievably aggressive on her part – which made him moan deeply. Her tongue – so uniquely long and sensual, curled around his, and he did his best to return the favor with an equally aggressive kiss. He was amazed at how strong she was, wondering -how- she could be so powerful. Perhaps that was how women were raised down south? Or perhaps it was something in their food, he really didn't know.<br><br>Her legs clamped onto the sides of his hips, and with a low growl that sent a delicious chill down his spine, she impaled himself on the length of his cock. Once fully upon him, she did not waste anytime in setting a a slow, rocking motion, but that escalated rapidly until she got to the point she was riding him furiously.<br><br>He smiled up at her, his hands moving up to cup her breasts, so bountiful and eager to be held. <br><br>She growled back at him again, starting to claim that she was finally getting what she wanted – but her own words were cut short as she commanded him to fuck her – then let out a short, soft cry, her eyes rolling back in her head. <br><br>“Oh, you -like- that, my lady...,” he purred softly as she stroked herself in a frenzy. “You love good cock, and I am so happy to oblige...,” he said, feeling her hard, rapid strokes, building him up more quickly again than he'd like.... So he had to take measures.<br><br><br>He forced her over suddenly, back onto the bed, rolling with the momentum to the point she was on -her- back, and he was hovering above her, his cock still firmly planted inside her – but no movement being given to make him lose it before his time. He smiled down at her, his hands moving to her shoulders to pin her there.<br><br>“You -are- a feisty one, my lady. And far more physical than I gave you credit for... His hips began to move slowly... so tantalizingly slowly for a woman who craved speed.<br><br>“I can't help but wonder if you will remember me when you return home,” he said, hips moving slowl sliding him in and out of her. <br><br>Slow... he -had- to keep it slow, now... simply too close for anything fancy right now... slow, safe.... The night was young, after all....<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>12-12-2014, 21:09:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)<br></div><br><em>"So eager, my general," </em>Jazelle all but purred, as she finally let her eyes travel downward, while&nbsp; Duncan explored her horns with his fingertips.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her eyes closed at the sensation, which was to her every bit as erotic, stimulating, pleasing, as his hands and lips on her breasts ... perhaps even more so, as those appendages were normally hidden away in that 'other' space displaced by her illusion.&nbsp; Few mortals, even those whom she dealt with fully, requested to see her true form ... or perhaps did not even know that the various 'authentic' looks that she donned from time to time were, themselves, plucked from the annals of human desires and fashioned to her purpose.<br><br>As he touched her, Duncan boldly guided the head of his cock over the skin of her face, silk upon silk.&nbsp; She wondered if he had any real understanding of just how unique his courage, his trust, in her made him.&nbsp; &nbsp;Few mortals had dared such a thing, to initiate such a caress, when she was in any guise other than human, and those non-mortals who had done so had held very different intent.&nbsp; She did not protest or become angered, though another might well have incurred some amount of displeasure.<br><br>This mortal was different, in many ways, as was her reaction to the intimate caress.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle moved with his touch, nuzzling, offering more of her skin to his pleasures, and, finally, parting her lips to allow the tip of his cockhead greater access, her dark, slightly forked tongue emerging to trace the ridge, tasting his skin, tickling, as a waft of hot, heated breath washed over the tip.<br><br><em>"Have no fear of that, Duncan.&nbsp; You shall have all of me, all that you have asked and more, and I will&nbsp; ... relish ... each and every moment of making you mine."</em><br><br>Such a position was not one she had favored during the first generation or so after her freeing.&nbsp; It had evoked memories of the taskmaster she served, of being a tool, a convenience, a slave ... but she had learned much since then, learned of the true balance of power and how to utilize and enjoy such things.&nbsp; It had been she who mastered, even upon her knees ... but this was different as well, with no thought now of control or mastery, only of desire.<br><br>Slowly, her eyes still on his, Jazelle's mouth opened further, her head bending and rolling in small, circular motions as she enclosed the uppoer portion of his straining, eager cock with her mouth.&nbsp; Her serpentine tongue slid over and around the soft, smooth surface, limber and adroit, hot and hungry as her movements also caressed him with the softness of her cheeks, the hard smoothness of teeth, sharpness made gentle as her lips molded themselves around his girth.<br><br>No, she had no intention of holding back, nor or letting him reach the heights of pleasure like this ... but she would tease and tantalize, have him aching and groaning her name with every breath before she relented and drew him to the bed, or let him draw her.&nbsp; &nbsp;This time, she would have his release buried deep within her body, and the heavens help any who knocked upon the door before he slipped from her body's embrace, sated, at last.<br><br><hr><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Faux-Jaz.jpg)</div><br>Her instructions had been precise, leaving no room for creative interpretation.&nbsp; Zenora's eyes went black entirely as Lucius flipped her over again, mere seconds before he would have erupted within her, sating them both, and for a moment she debated whether her punishment for disobeying would not be worth it.&nbsp; Did this one never shut up??!!<br><br>But no.&nbsp; She would not waste rebellion on this.&nbsp; There was more than one way to achieve her aims ... and when she was ready to drain away his soul, she would bind him to the bedposts, befuddle his mind with magick, and only at the last moment would she allow him to see who he had teased, taunted.<br><br>The faux Juliet Alerian smiled, a sinister curve of her lips that was as much sneer as amusement.&nbsp; "Oh, I will remember you, and you most assuredly will remember me, Lucius.&nbsp; I think ... I think ... I may well take you with me when I return home."<br><br>Her voice was sweet as honey, laden with promise and hungry desire.&nbsp; She lifted her head to his, her tongue tracing his lips, teeth nipping with a gentleness that she was far from feeling.&nbsp; At the same time, her hands slid caressingly down his shoulders to his back, nails digging in just hard enough to burn until they reached the small of his back and tightened hard and fast.&nbsp; At the same time, her hips moved beneath him, undulating, lifting to follow his thrusts, allowing him no respite.<br><br>When he was hers ... oh, she would show him what it was to tease.<br><br>Even as she fed off the tightening of his muscles, his fight against spilling himself completely, her breathing became fast and shallow as she began to plan what she would do to him when his soul was hers ... 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>12-12-2014, 23:11:39</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>"Yes, eager is a good word for it," Duncan whispered to her. "But can you blame me, Jazelle?" he asked gently in response. She -knew- how alluring she was - she'd known it since her inception. She'd seen the results of her allure time and time again. Was she surprised at all, then, to have the general wanting to eat out of her palm? Duncan wasn't blind enough that he didn't see the reaction for his fingers caressing her horns, though... and mentally he made note of that, for certain. A rather unexpected pleasantry, and he reminded himself that she was no, in fact, human.<br><br>More proof of this became evident when the tip of his swollen member neared her lips, and her tongue slithered out to taste him. Slightly forked, more serpentine than human, her warm breath bathed his heated rod as she gently toyed with his tip, the tongue lightly tracing the ridge of its full, thick head, tickling him almost as much as pleasing him.<br><br>She spoke to him, assuring him he would have all of her, assuring him that she would make him hers. At first when he had met her, it was the most feared thing he could think of. Now, he could think of nothing else.<br><br>His head rolled back slightly, his jaw going slack, eyes closing half-way as she tended to him. He assumed, of course, that Jazelle would do nothing that she, herself did not desire. If he knew that this position made her... uncomfortable, he would have outright refused it. But he did not know, and at the moment, his capacity for rational thought was being truly tested.<br><br>His hands still caressed her horns, both of them as her head moved in slow circles, only to have her open her mouth wider to take the upper portion of his stiff, straining tip into her mouth. He groaned deeply, relief... sweet, moist relief covering the sensitive end so nicely, his legs quivered slightly for a moment as her tongue slid over and around, far more agile than a typical human woman's might be. He felt the faint reminder of her teeth, though she did not yet employ them against his fragile skin, instead using her lips to mold around his width.<br><br>His hands meanwhile slowly stroked her horns almost as if he was stroking himself - a gentle, slow back and forth motion, his fingertips occasionally caressing her milky-white hair. Duncan's sac hung heavy beneath his shaft, but he could already feel his stones shifting and simmering, eager to do their work when the time was right... a time that, most likely, she would choose.<br><br>"Jazelle...," he whispered long and languid, making love to her name as if in preparation for what he hoped was still yet to come. His hands, for a moment, tightened gently around the base of her horns - tightened, and very faintly urged her to move her head toward him, to take more of him, to stroke him wetly... The thrill of this newness, this unique pleasure was not lost on him at all. He knew precisely now who knelt before him, and what manner of creature she was.<br><br>And he wouldn't have changed a thing.<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lucius used all of his skills and talents on the lady beneath him, and it seemed to be working well. She even spoke of taking him -home- with her, which brought a sly, genuine smile to his lips.<br><br>"Lady Alerian," he said her name with an exaggerated hint of scandal in his voice. "Whisking me away to your realm would certainly please me to no end... But my duty is here, to my King and to my general," he explained - his thrusts slowing, of course, to allow him to think a little clearer as he spoke - which, in turn, delayed any sort of 'resolution' even further. "But I am sure if we presented the idea sweetly, they might allow me to... act as a warrior-diplomat to your realm, even though Duncan can scarcely function without me at his side," he said, chuckling softly.<br><br>Lucius was imagining the ripe southlands, sand and palm trees, sun and warmth. Beautiful women everywhere, wearing next to nothing in order to achieve some relief from the heat. Perhaps Lady Alerian might even have a sister or two... the possibilities might be endless?<br><br>But little did he know, not having any idea - earthly or otherwise - precisely where this woman truly planned to take him.<br><br>She dug her nails into him, and he hissed, drawing him out of his brief reverie and fantasy-filled visions. He still yet had a job to do in the here and now. Such plans could wait until later... until both of them were fully sated, perhaps at breakfast....<br><br>Her felt her hips curling now, undulating along with his movements. Her breathing increased, and he knew without a doubt&nbsp; she was drawing close. <br><br>"Yes, my sweet.. don't fight it. Embrace what I have to offer... let yourself go... I promise you endless pleasures, well into the night. Perhaps we shall share the sunrise at that precise moment when I seed you for the first time..." he said, audaciously promising to fuck her for -hours- before he, himself, would finally allow himself to succumb to climax...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-12-2014, 06:48:04</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>The act of giving pleasure was a sweet, sensual pleasure in itself, a triumph to be savored in the right circumstances.&nbsp; &nbsp; She had learned the nuances of such things gradually, as she explored her nature without the harsh, chaotic bindings of the abyss.&nbsp; Rarely had she taken such pleasure in the act as she did then, feeling her general's reactions, in his thighs, the ripples across his abdomen, his breathing, his hands that still gently caressed her horns, her hair, and ... of course ... the pulses and twitches of his cock as her tongue twined around it in a slow, tireless caress.<br><br>His whisper of her name was desire itself, evoking a rippling shudder that vibrated around her lips all the way down to her calves, centering at the apex of her thighs like a first teasing touch.&nbsp; Eagerly, she let his hands guide her, or perhaps demanded that they do so as her lips slid down, lower, and lower still until her mouth had engulfed all of him, and she could feel and taste him from the sensitive tips of her tongue to the back of her throat, a delicious feast.&nbsp; &nbsp;Slowly, ever so slowly, she reversed the movement, letting her tongue play over, around, along his hardness, her lips a tight ring.&nbsp; This would be only a stoking of his desires, a promise ... and while she would take great pleasure in divining all the ways she could draw his spend from him, this first time would be the way she had promised.<br><br>Again, again, and&nbsp; again she subjected him to the same slow caress, tip to shaft and back again until her saliva glistened along his length in the lamplight, and she could taste the salty precursor of his seed, her tongue swirling over it to collect every tiny, life-laden drop before she withdrew, raising up to let his cock spring free of her lips with a final slow lick as she returned her gaze to his eyes.<br><br><em>"Delicious, my sweet Duncan ...&nbsp; I shall enjoy rousing your desires, your lusts, in this manner again when you have spent yourself within me.&nbsp; &nbsp;But first&nbsp; ..."</em><br><br>Jazelle rose to her feet, her hands reaching for his.&nbsp; She smiled, almost sweetly, as she sank down onto the bed and gently drew him down to her, arms reaching to enfold him, her legs hooking to capture his as her lips again found his collarbone and mapped out a path to his throat in gentle, nipping kisses.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Zenora.jpg)</div><br>Zenora's snarl was less muted as the mortal she was attempting to fuck senseless again began speaking, spouting nonsense.&nbsp; His words would have been easy to ignore, had he not been incapable of speaking and thrusting at the same time.&nbsp; &nbsp;Since he was not, they acted upon the succubus like the screech of her claws across a surface of slate.<br><br>His promise that he would continue this until the sunrise was too much to bear.&nbsp; Even the threat of Iblis' displeasure was not enough to contain her rage.&nbsp; The chestnut curls of her disguise parted as Zenora's horns began to sprout, the sound of leather and bone against the bedding as her black wings emerged.<br><br>No!&nbsp; She would not be humiliated by this ... this ... bard in the guise of a warrior.&nbsp; Zenora's hand snaked quickly up to Lucius' hair, and entwined in the locks roughly, clamping down on his mane like a vise.&nbsp; Her other hand, nails biting, grasped his shoulders and her legs captured his as she flipped them both yet again.&nbsp; Quick as a serpent's strike, her mouth covered his to cut off the spew of his words, and the hand upon his shoulder slid down to his wrist and slammed it up to the headboard of the bed as the other left his hair and wrenched the metal slat free at the top, bending it down upon his wrist to serve as a manacle.<br><br>The succubus straddled him, his full, obdurate cock still impaled to the hilt in her depths, as her wings sprung free fully and unfolded.&nbsp; &nbsp;The 'Lady Alerian' guise slipped away in much the same manner as Lucius emptied his bladder after waking, revealing the dark skin, black eyes, and furious face of an enraged, aroused demon from the pits, darkly beautiful with a lush body that even now continued to ride him furiously as she grasped his other wrist and forced it upward to the headboard.<br><br>"It is time for you, Lucius, to embrace what it is that<strong> I </strong>have to offer ... and once I stop your flopping, I will stuff your mouth with a pillow if you do not cease your infernal squawking ..."<br><br>Though already she was regretting not doing that first and leaving his other wrist for afterward.&nbsp; She was, she thought, more than strong enough to keep him from escaping her grasp, and if she had to endure another word, she might yet rip him asunder ... but not until she had taken his essence.<br><br>With an effort, Zenora softened her expression, her voice, and let the sweetness return to it as she imbued her speech with a surge of will.&nbsp; The ensorcellment would dilute his essence somewhat, but ... she would gladly make the sacrifice to have this done.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Do not struggle so, lover ... I want only to show you my love, to have you ..." She cocked her head, smiling, as her forked tongue slid out and lapped at his cheek ... "show your love to me."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-12-2014, 11:52:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Head back, eyes slowly closing, he was able to focus for a time on the sensations she was giving him. Her mouth was unlike any he had ever felt, especially her tongue, and that excited him further. Whatever trepidation he might have had before was simply gone, now. She had had ample opportunity to hurt him, damage him, to do whatever she wished to him, but she hadn't. That in and of itself had earned a good portion of his trust.<br><br>But he found himself -wanting- to trust her – among other things. Was this how it began, then? Was this an age-old trap that she was closing around him? Was he just another hopeless male, falling for her, throwing himself at her feet, willing to be ruled by her if it would keep them close to her?<br><br>She moved so slowly – of -course- she did – pulling a groan from&nbsp; him with each long, slow ascent of his shaft. She let his hands on her horns tense and guide her, pulling her to him, then slowly easing her back and away to free his length – almost. And then another slow ascent. For a moment he imagined her doing it this way until his completion. It would take patience on her part, never speeding-up even if he begged her to.... knowing from his end that the resulting climax would be near-violent.<br><br>By now, he was hard as steel, thick as a club handle and straining to lose his seed already. Human eagerness, he reminded himself, likely did nothing to impress her. Indeed, a woman this old, this experienced, was likely not impressed easily at all. He was surprised that she could take him completely in her mouth,&nbsp; but that was more his pride trying to explain it away, reminding himself once again that this woman was -very- experienced. What tiny amount of precum he might have secreted at his tip, her tongue was there to lap it up and away, as if stealing it into the night. Knees shaking ever so slightly from the tension, she suddenly allowed his cock to spring free of her lips with an audible 'pop', causing his head to lower, his eyes to open and gaze at her to see what was the matter.<br><br>The matter was simple – she wished to move on to something more... intimate, and he was perfectly willing to play along with that idea. She spoke briefly, assuring him that she would enjoy doing this again, but -after- he spent himself within her, first. She claimed to find his taste delicious, and immediately that made him hunger to taste -her-. He had offered – nearly begged – to taste her back in her realm, but she had refused. But now...<br><br>Her hands took his gently, and drew him with her down to the bed. He went willingly – doubting any man could resist her at this point – and lowered himself down on top of her, his hands both out to either side of her, pressing against his bed to keep most of his weight from her. Her mouth was already moving to his skin, kissing him at the collarbone, warm lips sending gentle tingles of pleasure down his back. Her arms embraced him, and he felt his own legs moving on their own, slipping smoothly between her thighs, yet he did not need to add even the slightly pressure to part hers – they were already parting for him, like the jaws of some enormous trap of flesh and bone.<br><br>So much for his idea of pleasuring her with his tongue as he felt her legs hook around the back of his own. So much for lowering himself down to return the favor she had just bestowed him beside the bed for a handful of long, tempting strokes. It was clear, now, what she desired, what she wanted most of all, and in his heart he knew it was what he desired most of all, as well.<br><br>Duncan lowered his head to gently kiss one of her horns, her own face and mouth pressed against his neck and collarbone. His hips moved slowly, swinging the head of his impressive meat closed to the point he needed to be. It did not take long, even if it might have felt like a small eternity until the warmth of her folds signaled his proper placement...<br><br>Without preamble, he eased himself forward, the blunt tip of his spongy head would not be denied, and he felt her folds part for him in invitation. He had no idea what to expect, and being that humans were all he had ever fucked, he could only start there, assuming she would be built similarly, though her tongue and other body parts displayed some variation from the completely human theme.<br><br>He was slick from her mouthwork, and he had hoped that her own arousal would aid his intrusion into her. But he was still slow, patient, careful... in case something did not quite add up, at which time he could stop in an instant if need be...<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lady Alerian snarled – in lust, of course – in response to his words. What woman -wouldn't- wish to be pleasured by such a master throughout the night? He watched her, seeing the look of sheer impatience on her face that so closely resembled a snarl. Poor girl! To have to wait for hours before being gifted with his seed – perhaps by then she'd even be -begging- for it?<br><br>Then things began to change. Lady Alerian was suddenly sprouting horns, wings, the look now being that of a mix between Lady Alerian and some otherworldly creature. For a brief moment – Lucius smiled. “Nice trick,” he muttered – until he felt her hand in his hair, grabbing a fist of his silky locks that he tended to with utmost care. The rest of her body moved as well, clamping on him, pulling him easily off-balance and to the side. She rolled with him once more, her strength -obviously- increased now, perhaps even stronger than him! <br><br>On his back, he looked up at the terror above him, his own eyes widening with the realization that, no, this was most surely not some dream nor some trick. This was -real-. This... creature, beautiful as her body might be, was also terrible to behold. Inhuman... and still enjoying his thickness embedded within her body. Her hands were like manacles themselves, dragging one of his wrists upward above his head. He gazed upward just in time to see her pull one of the metal bars of his headboard from its base – with her own sheer strength – and then bend it around his wrist as if it were made of putty! <br><br>His -new bed-! Ruined! The BITCH!<br><br>Her wings unfurled, then, in an impressive, dramatic display, and his eyes were drawn to them for a moment. She was dark-skinned now, her eyes twin ink pots of liquid black, like the ocean at midnight, or a pair of small patches of sky on a moonless and starless night. <br><br>He finally began to resist her, his free hand trying desperately to avoid both of her hands that moved with incredible speed and strength. When she caught his wrist, he pulled and flexed – to no avail. Easily, now, she moved his second wrist upward and bolted it into place with another one of the metal bars that she so easily dislodged from the headboard, securing both of his hands now.<br><br>Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first, silencing him with her words. She threatened to stuff his mouth with a pillow! Him! A -pillow-!<br><br>“Now, look here,” he said, suddenly calm, the seriousness of the situation finally hitting him with its full force, like a solid kick to the stomach. “Lady Alerian, I am sure there is something we could work out... some sort of trade... You needn't damage property nor secure me, for I had not planned on going any-....”<br><br>But his words were cut off as she spoke again, but this time, her voice was different... far friendlier, which would garner her more cooperation from him. But wasn't he already being cooperative enough? His struggles ceased – why would he be struggling anyway? They both wanted the -same thing- afterall, didn't they? Hence why he was planted deeply inside her still. <br><br>She wanted to show him her love, and she asked him to show her his. That was perfectly reasonable, he thought, given their close nature now, and even as she leaned forward and lapped at his cheek with her forked-tongue, he focused instead on the parts of her that were more what he was used to. She had huge breasts, almost too large for a woman with her slight frame, and her sex... molten silk, it felt like, and he could swear it was moving on its own, stroking and grasping at him, even if the rest of her body stopped to pause for a moment.<br><br>His arms relaxed, as did the rest of his body. Something in the back of his mind told him that he should be resisting, that this was somehow inexplicably wrong. But that voice made less and less sense, and as he felt her pussy nearly sloshing with her arousal as she stroked him, it made more and more sense to give in, to seed her deep and full. Yes... that made the -most- sense of all.<br><br>He groaned loudly, his face a mask of ecstasy now. All banter and playfulness melted away as quickly and easily as did her disguise. He was simply Lucious now, eager to please, hips rocking, his wrists pulling less and less against the iron bars turned manacles. <br><br>“Fuckkkkk..,” he hissed softly, feeling it already, feeling the urge, the -need-, the heady desire that filled him quickly as her hips continued to stroke back and forth, as if she simply couldn't wait for him to lose himself. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-12-2014, 17:08:12</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Her god was no jealous god, else Mercy would have hesitated to don the robes she now wore as she moved with purpose through the keep.&nbsp; &nbsp;It amused her to dress in the accoutrements of Amalthea, the faithless priests who abased themselves in cruelty while claiming it served some higher, noble purpose other than elevating their own sense of power, their perverted lusts.&nbsp; &nbsp;Few, even the guards, questioned one so attired, at least so long as they moved with purpose, as if they had every right, every duty, to be where they were.<br><br>Even hooded, the beauty of Mercy's face was apparent, her skin creamy pale, the perfect backdrop for her dark, intense eyes.&nbsp; With her mother's bloodline, she could look like anyone ... anyone with a human kinship, of course.&nbsp; Hers was not the magic that permitted, innately, a form very different from her own.&nbsp; Most of the time she preferred subtle variations to her own features, unless the risk was too great to permit it.<br><br>The risk was not so great here.&nbsp; She was far away from those who would recognize her, remember the priests' doom laid upon her and seek to carry it out.&nbsp; Her purpose was just as it had been since that fateful night when the unjust sentence of destruction had been leveled upon her for the sins of another, and that purpose had led her here.<br><br>The church, the common church, had long hoarded items of power, using them to advance their stranglehold upon the populace or simply to deny their use to any who might oppose them.&nbsp; &nbsp;Here, by all accounts, had been stored an artifact that the alu-demon priestess would put too good use, a fitting use considering the church's crimes against her, and she had been searching for further clues in the annals.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her talent for stealth had served her well, and she had overheard an interesting conversation that almost certainly promised to speed her search ...<br><br>The priests had detected the presence of a demon moving through the keep ... a demon that had not laid waste, but moved with purpose, and whose presence had been sensed returning several times.&nbsp; The sensible thing for the priests to do would have been to share information, to join forces with the guard, the military, those with magical talents, and hunt the demon down systematically, to corner it and bind it with arcane locks, to drive it forth with blade and blessing.&nbsp; Of course, their only thought was how to use this intrusion to their own ends.<br><br>The one thing Mercy could always count on was that the priests in positions of greatest power would not act in the best interests of their flock.&nbsp; Instead, they moved amongst them, not like wolves, but rather like weasels ... sharp of teeth and infinitely more dangerous.&nbsp; &nbsp;Now, it served her well, for while they put their plans into action and jockeyed for position within their ranks, she had determined that the infestation was no single demon, but three.&nbsp; A Balor, a succubus ... and another, a demon unique in all of Mercy's experience ... one whose aura she recognized.&nbsp; Later, she would seek out the latter, to renew old acquaintance, but for now it was the succubus she sought.<br><br>If her suspicions were right, the same thing she had come to this place to find was what they sought as well.&nbsp; Mercy did not know if she could best a Balor alone, but a succubus ... given her advantages ... should be well within her capabilities.&nbsp; Perhaps she could determine the truth of her suspicions, but she had to act fast while the succubus was not in the company of her master.<br><br>The aura of lust that she was following was an easy trail.&nbsp; The succubus' target was awash with it, a strong, undaunted eager aura ... the kind that might have warranted a second look all on its own had Mercy not been otherwise occupied.&nbsp; She had followed it from the tavern, had even ascertained that its owner was one of relative import -- a commander of the kingdom's military forces.&nbsp; What she did not know was whether the succubus was simply feeding, or if she was engaged in the same hunt.&nbsp; There were no stories that a few quick inquiries could ascertain suggesting that Lucius Von Straad wielded an enchanted blade ... but one who carried what she sought would likely not advertise its power.<br><br>Regardless, what was certain was that he was in danger, and he might be of use -- if, of course, she was not already too late.<br><br>At the trail's end, a softly whispered spell dealt with the locks, and Mercy let herself in.&nbsp; If the succubus were alert, she might well detect the presence of another with the same bloodline -- succubi did not share well, even when their masters demanded it -- but Mercy had some protections against that.&nbsp; Given the sounds coming from the bedroom, the succubus was well engaged.<br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><br>"... and once I stop your flopping, I will stuff your mouth with a pillow if you do not cease your infernal squawking ..."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Mercy stifled a snort, her lips curving into a smile of amusement.&nbsp; The succubus' prey resisted, had realized that he enjoyed no innocent midnight tryst.&nbsp; At least she was in time, though not by much as she felt the ripple of the succubus' magic in her deceptively sweet voice.<br><br>Quickly, Mercy drew her holy symbol from beneath her robes, and whispered a prayer to Phaenix to invite his blessing as she hurried toward the sounds, the golden phoenix amulet in her hand beginning to glow with a subdued, but powerful, light.<br><br>Things were not quite what she had expected, but ... close enough.&nbsp; The man on the bed was topped by a succubus in true form, her motions arrested as she turned her head and shoulders to confront the intrusion.&nbsp; Apparently he had been a naughty boy indeed, for the succubus had crudely manacled him to the bed, his arms straining powerfully as he moved to the interrupted rhythm, though his confusion, his clarity, seemed to return as the succubus' concentration was interrupted.<br><em><br><em>"Is he giving you such trouble that you must resort to such crude methods?"</em> she taunted.&nbsp; "Are you so newly formed that you cannot manage even a simple seduction, or so old that your wits have failed you?&nbsp; I would wager the latter ... your hunts have become toothless, and soon your master will cast you back into the depths from which you were formed."</em><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Zenora.jpg)</div><br>This evening had gone from bad to worse for Zenora.&nbsp; What should have been a simple, simple fuck and feed had turned into a hour-long session of frustration and irritation, and now ... caught in her true form by one who showed no fear ...<br><br>Her eyes narrowed, and she heaved herself off Lucius' softening cock and slid to the floor, her wings expanding like that of a rooster fluffing himself out to do battle with a challenger as she sniffed out Mercy's kinship.&nbsp; "Little sister ... is this one yours?&nbsp; There is no need to be greedy -- we can share.&nbsp; He would fuck all the better if he had something to occupy his mouth other than words."<br><br><em>"I'm not surprised that you lack appreciation for words of wisdom, Succubus.&nbsp; This one<strong> is </strong>mine, and I do not share -- not with the likes of you, or with any.&nbsp; <strong>Begone!</strong>"</em><br><br>The words of the banishing spell came easily, almost by rote, as her hands flowed into the accompanying patterns as she stepped forward, chanting.&nbsp; She gestured, tossing a pinch of fine sand glowing redly with Phaenix's power like a sprinkling of holy water.&nbsp; It landed upon the succubus' ample dark breasts, raising welts where it touched and leaving bright red glowing sparks that seemed to eat into the demon's succulent flesh.<br><br>Zenora screamed, and launched herself into the air, not to flee but to better position herself, guarding against the touch of Mercy's darkly pulsing talisman, buying herself time to launch an attack.&nbsp; Had it been a male priest ... but as it was not, she was at a severe disadvantage.&nbsp; Had she not bound Lucius in iron, she would have him fight in her stead ... but ... he was as useless in that as in all else.<br><br>Mercy altered her course, reaching out to yank the metal strut that held one of Lucius' hands pinned free from the wood, giving him more leverage.<br><em><br>"Free yourself, and find your blade.&nbsp; She will not go quietly, this close to her prize.&nbsp; Move!&nbsp; And do not listen when she speaks, whatever she might say."</em><br><br>"The latter he should be well capable of, at least," Zenora purred, but she knew fear.&nbsp; Iblis would not be pleased to hear of this development.&nbsp; This priestess had no fear of her kind, and her faith was strong -- it blazed from the hateful, vaguely familiar symbol she held forth like a brand.&nbsp; If it were to touch her, she would be sent back from this plane in agony, without even having fed a single time.<br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>The other full blooded succubus in the keep was having a much better night than her distant sister, with frustration long forgotten as Duncan moved to fill her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her lips, her teeth, her tongue continued their kisses, gentle but with the insistent overtones of her hunger, across his shoulder, his neck, and finally to his mouth as her thighs and folds parted to invite him in.<br><br>Jazelle had wanted him from the first moment she had seen him, mastering his fear with a will of iron, casting himself in that same armor as he prepared to face whatever threat might come.&nbsp; Her want, her regard, had only grown through the games they had played.&nbsp; &nbsp;She felt ... an odd, explicable closeness ... a desire for his company that went beyond the thrill of his flesh, the challenge of his presence and his words.&nbsp; She had called him 'her sweet' and 'her general' from the start, and subtly ... so subtly that she still had no true idea of how it had happened ... the words had changed in focus.<br><br>She had wanted him for but a moment, a sweet, poignant challenge ... and now, she was his for a lifetime, measured in his years ... and that seemed all too short a time.&nbsp; But for that time, he would be hers, as fully and completely as she could possess him.<br><br>As Lucius had already discovered, to his regret perhaps, the body of a succubus 'there' was much the same as the idealized human form upon which it had been modeled ... sensitive, soft folds, a tender, hooded button of heated flesh that engorged readily at a touch, a thought properly directed.&nbsp; Jazelle's entrance to her inner depths was designed from that same idealized model - tight as any virgin's stronghold, but adaptable to accommodate a range of sizes from the average to lengths and girths that would have rent a human woman of her proportions.&nbsp; As most wounds healed quickly, her skin and muscle retaining an ageless youth, she had noticed no perceptible loosening despite the lovers she had taken.<br><br>Duncan's girth and length was impressive, his cock as hard as the crafted muscles of his body, and the want that she felt for that which made him what he was only intensified the succubus' pleasure as he eased his way inside her slick, heated walls.&nbsp; She moaned in delight, having no need to fake her response, her back arching as she clenched him ... pale eyes opening to drink in the beauty of his face, intent and heated with the pleasure of their joining.<br><br><em>"At last," </em>she breathed, lips parting and forming into a faint smile ... as if she had waited an eon rather than barely more than a day. <em> "Do not hold back, my general.&nbsp; You will not hurt me ... and nor will I hurt you.&nbsp; Give yourself to me fully, as I give myself to you."</em><br><br>Jazelle had said many words as she seduced one mortal or another to her bed.&nbsp; A few, she had even meant to varying degrees ... at least for the space of a night or two ... but never had she meant anything as completely, as enduringly, as she meant this.&nbsp; She had meant to conquer, and perhaps she had ... but in the process, she had been conquered as well, at least ... more thoroughly than she could have ever imagined possible.<br><br><em>"Duncan."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>14-12-2014, 01:26:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lucius could feel it all. Not just the intense pleasure of the sweetest cunt he'd ever split in twain, but more importantly, he felt his very willpower, his very sense of self -control being stripped away. There was nothing erotic about -that-, nothing at all enjoyable about the very essence of his being forced to give-in to the demonic creature that sat astride him, her feral smile of victory confirming his worst fears.<br><br>Enslavement. A thing that Lucius dreaded more than most anything else, and knowing that it was coming didn't make it any better. If anything, it made it -worse-.<br><br>“No....,” he said, denying her, his voice barely audible as his body was certainly saying, 'YES'. She rocked and rolled her hips, and he knew it was nearly over. All the playful avoidance he had enacted was being undone now with the steady stroke of her body. Had he ever felt a woman so lush and silky? Her inner walls were gently -pulling- him, drawing him deeper within her, waiting with hungry anticipation for his cock to belch forth its sweet contents... and Lucius knew that as soon as it happened... he likely would not be long for this world.<br><br>At least if he were to die, it would be like this, at the end of pleasure. There were far -worse- ways to go, he knew... he'd seen a few hundred of them on the field of conflict with his own eyes, witnessed them personally, even inflicted some of them on his foes amidst the din of battle. But a darkness in the back of his mind warned him that this was too good to be true. His 'death' would be something else entirely, some unspeakable terror that was never spoken up by mortal lips, because no mortal had ever lived to tell about it...<br><br>“You... -cunt-,” he groaned faintly, his last bit of defiance as his hips lifted, then lifted more, eased down and lifted again, eager to be -done- with it.... and atop him, Zenora smiled at the victory within her grasp.<br><br>Lucius closed his eyes, and forced himself to imagine a different woman, to picture someone whom would be the last thought in his mind before the demon-woman did... whatever it was she planned to do with him after he climaxed. He didn't want the last thing he saw to be that of the voluptuously hideous creature that presently rode him, but someone else... a woman out of a dream he'd had before, dark-haired and beautiful, as close to an angel as he had ever imagined there to be...<br><br>And then he heard a voice, sweet like music, but it wasn't addressing -him-. Did he imagine it? He forced his eyes open, and noticed with a held breath that the creature atop him had stopped moving abruptly. The other voice – a woman's voice – taunted the creature mounted upon him. A tiny bit of pride seeped into his thoughts – he had given the bitch some trouble! Take that, you dirty whore!<br><br>Then the creature atop him pulled herself off, letting his cock flop with a faint -slap- against his lower belly. Glancing down, Lucius could feel and see the faint dribble of milky-white from his tip... she had literally been a few strokes away from drawing him forth in a torrid rush. Even now, he squirmed slightly, his body angry and anxious for those last few strokes that would not come, at least not at the moment.<br><br>The moment the succubus was distracted, Lucius blinked and quickly regained his senses. He felt his strength return to him, and as the demon woman went to confront whoever had invaded his chambers, Lucius kicked his feet up, rolling backward, his feet up over his head and then planted against the upper beam of the bed's headboard. Planted firmly like that for leverage, his upper body surged forward, muscles bunching at the sudden explosion of strength and tenacity, jaw clenched as he pulled against the manacles that bound his hands. Within seconds, the metal bars of the headboard began to creak and quiver as he exerted his strength, intent to pull them out of their foundations, ruining the elegant and exquisite design, likely beyond repair.<br><br>The bed wasn't even a month old! Damn. <br><br>Lucius vaguely heard the discussion going on between the two women – they were... related, or something? At the very least they seemed to know each other, but the thing he most keenly was aware of was that both of them seemed to lay some sort of claim to him. To HIIM, Lucius Von Straad! It was ludicrous, of course – if he 'belonged' to anyone, he was fairly certain that he would know it!<br><br>There was a shout to begone....<br><br>There was the scream of the demon-woman, a piercing wail that hurt Lucius's ears...<br><br>He strained, harder and harder, groaning with power, but the well-made bed frame, iron-shod dowels and rock-solid oak wood would simply not give. And then suddenly, he felt an additional pull on one of the metal struts he was struggling against. His eyes snapped open, looking down to see a hand on it, pulling with him, and that was the very thing needed as the wood splintered and the strut came free!<br><br>He glanced up just for a moment to cast a quick look at the person who had helped him, but then he froze in place when his eyes settled upon her face...<br><br>-Her-.... <br><br>Lucius shook his head, simply not believing what and who he was looking at as she spoke to him, barely registering her words. When she finished with her warning, all he could manage was a dull nod, but then quickly sought to regain his senses. He had been nearly raped to death by a succubus – raped! HIM of all people! - and now he was staring at the face of a woman he had dreamed about but never met... and now she was demanding that he fetch his sword – and not -that- sword...<br><br>Instincts kicked in, then. Now that they were in a familiar setting, one of battle and conflict, his training propelled him. He lunged and rolled across the bed to the other side where the mannequin held his armor – and upon which his blade leaned. Yes, his blade was one of the best a warrior could find in the kingdom, was enchanted hundreds of years ago by some unknown smith, and was keen enough to cut through stone without leaving a scratch. But – would it harm the demon-women that now -fluttered- through the air beneath the elevated ceiling of his chambers?<br><br>His hand wrapped around the familiar handle of his sword, spinning down on one knee, drawing the weapon out side – flinging the scabbard off to the side. <br><br>Thoughts of lust were gone now, replaced by the steel discipline that Lucius had developed over the years. Off the battlefield, he was a lover, a writer, a poet and a lech, true. But in a warrior's state of mind, he was the right hand of General Duncan Vanzelle for a reason.<br><br>“You couldn't just enjoy the night, get laid and go home, now, could you?” he growled at the winged terror. “And your ass is going to pay for what you did to my bed... one way or another. That shit came from Legondon, and was -expensive-.”<br><br>Lucious saw where the other woman was out of the corner of his eye. Together, they should be able to take this creature, or at the very least drive her off. Lucius was transformed, now – not physically, though he was only slightly aware of his own nudity at the moment. Instead, it was a state of mind, shifting into the warrior's mindset required some -reason- to, and this, here and now, was more than enough justification. <br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Everything was as he hoped it would be – perhaps even better. The fit was far more snug than he imagined it would be, but then a gain a creature of magic could modify it to her desires, couldn't she? He silently hoped she -hadn't-... he wanted her, the real her, and that meant -all- of her. But he said nothing, not being in a mindset to question her in the heat of the moment.<br><br>But he eased into her with all the smooth texture of velvet and silk sliding over skin. He gasped the entire way into her, something telling him that she would be able to take him all, despite his size and girth. She did, and it was -perfect-.<br><br>No longer would he be surprised when she did things normal women might not find so easy to do. Her mouth, and now her sex... had swallowed his length as if he bore a twig between his thighs. But he didn't, and he knew that, from now on, Jazelle would easily endure whatever he threw at her.<br><br>She moaned, a sweet sound that mingled with his own, deeper, guttural release. He paused, fully extended in her, the tip of his cock pressed firmly against her womb as if threatening to invade there as well. Her voice spoke to him, sharing the very same thoughts he was having, himself.<br><br>“At last, indeed...,” he was -barely- able to whisper, his voice waffling when he spoke almost feebly to her. “I am yours, Jazelle... and you are mine... it is agreed....”<br><br>His knees pressed into the bed, his hips turned slightly sideways to offer him more firm traction, his hips curled back – and he plunged into her firmly, fully, driving her ass down against the mattress. The withdrawal was much slower – obviously loathe to leave her depths – and then the plunge came again – firm, forceful, hips surging forward for every fraction of an inch he might take and give her. <br><br>Duncan looked down into her eyes, milky white and beautiful, his gaze trailing up to her horns, to her snow-white hair, the jewelry that accented and enhanced the paleness of her skin. One of his hands move up to cup her chin, holding her head gently in place as he thrust again, driving into her – pinning her ass against the bed once more. <br><br>Then his lips settled onto hers, gently, conveying not just his want for her, but his -need-.... and not simply in a physical way. He hoped, he prayed that she could 'hear' it, and understand... as his kiss grew more and more urgent, slowly but surely pulling back the veil of restraint that he had put into place from the first time their eyes had ever made contact with one another....<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-12-2014, 07:03:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>For a moment, the succubus' prey simply froze, looking as if he were dumbstruck to be in possession of his soul.&nbsp; Mercy heaved a sigh, sparing a second to wonder if she was going to have to fight the succubus alone and then heave him from the window into the moat below to break the spell.<br><br>The enraged demon shrieked, her wings moving faintly to propel her through the air.&nbsp; Zenora grabbed at an object upon a shelf and hurled it at Mercy, causing her to dodge back.&nbsp; By then, her peripheral vision caught Lucius' movement as he broke through his malaise, a relief.<br><br>There wasn't enough room for the demon to fly, not if her flight were the ordinary variety such as bees and birds did.&nbsp; It was not,&nbsp; but rather a product of the creature's innate magic.&nbsp; The succubus picked up another vase as Lucius admonished her, and heaved it at his head with such force that it shattered and sent shards spraying, one of them scraping sharply along the back of her hand.&nbsp; Mercy's breath drew in in a pained hiss, and she almost let the the golden phoenix symbol fall.<br><em><br>"Worry about your bed later," </em>she snarled.&nbsp; <em>"You would have found your soul more dear to replace.&nbsp; Here, to me."</em><br><br>"You think that your blade will hurt me?" Zenora sneered, ignoring Mercy for the moment as the priestess began another prayer, this one designed to imbue a weapon, such as the one the naked warrior wielded, with the pure spiritual power of the gods themselves.<br><br>"If you wield it as clumsily as the useless one swinging between your thighs, I have no fear of it or you.&nbsp; Instead of dying in exquisite pleasure, I will simply break your spine and leave you upon the floor, unable to do more than twitch as you breathe out your last."<br><br>When Lucius crossed into her reach, Mercy reached out, and completed the spell.&nbsp; Lucius' blade glowed briefly with the same flickering ruddy light as her holy symbol.&nbsp; Zenora's taunting stopped, and her head darted to and fro as she looked for an escape, but Mercy and Lucius moved together to prevent it, one to the left and the other to the right.&nbsp; Now that he had his mind on business, he seemed more than capable to hold up his end of the partnership.<br><br><em>"You see ... he<strong> is</strong> mine, Succubus.&nbsp; See how well we work together, how his body moves in concert with mine.&nbsp; 'Tis no wonder you could not command what you seek.&nbsp; Tell me, what was it you hoped to find here?&nbsp; Surely there were easier men to lure to your bed, rather than poaching one who is mine?"</em><br><br>Mercy did not worry about what Lucius might think about hearing himself claimed.&nbsp; She hoped only that he had enough sense remaining not to deny her as she attempted to enrage the succubus, to make her rash enough to act in anger ... before she summoned her keeper, or he came looking for her.<br><br>If she could keep the succubus' attention, it would make it all the easier for Lucius to strike.&nbsp; She would, she thought, give him the opportunity to act ... it might save him nightmares in his future if he could deal a fateful blow to his tormenter.<br><em><br>"Or perhaps he was simply too much a man for the likes of you.&nbsp; You should give warriors a wide berth, and perhaps set your sights upon a baker, a tailor ... perhaps the crier of the time instead."</em><br><br>Zenora's rage was a lovely thing to behold ... Mercy's smile was fierce, radiant, as she opened the field, circling to draw the succubus' eye with her holy symbol.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Duncan's body against hers, inside hers, was perfection, all the more so when he voiced his agreement that he was hers, and that she was his.&nbsp; Such a thought ought to have filled her with dread, sent her fleeing into the night, but instead she embraced it.&nbsp; She embraced it, just as she embraced him.<br><br>Upon the pillow, Jazelle raised up enough to gaze down between them, just for a moment to catch a glimpse of pink-tinted pearl flesh of her folds stretched wide to encompass his girth.&nbsp; The crisp curls that decorated his groin were black against her skin, tickling, the swell of his sac warm and pulsing in her vision with the roiling colors of desire and life.<br><br>Yet to see was not what she wanted just then, but rather to feel.&nbsp; She lay back against the bed, moving just enough to ease his passage.&nbsp; Her hand in his hair remained, lazily curling, stroking, drawing tendrils of his hair between her fingers and memorizing their texture.&nbsp; The other slid down to his ass, pulling him into her, and slowing ... ever so slightly his withdrawals.<br><br>The force of his thrust brought another soft sound from her throat, not a protest but rather a sound of welcome.&nbsp; Her eyes gazed into his, his desire for her like a flame that flicked and smoldered along his skin.&nbsp; Beauty, such beauty in those colors, and the feel of him stretching her body to the fullest capacity ... magic ... cool, clear water to quench the thirst that she had not felt so powerfully until he began to sate it.<br><br>Best of all was his kiss, his lips upon hers.&nbsp; Without words, with only the soft sounds that his efforts wrested from his vocal cords, his lungs, his kiss spoke of his desire, his need.&nbsp; It freed her own desires, and without breaking the kiss, Jazelle began to move ... meeting his thrusts with her own as she coaxed him to fill her, to find his release and grant hers.<br><br>With each thrust, the hot waves of pleasure rippled through Jazelle's body, her tunnel, folds slick with her juices.&nbsp; With every movement, her walls gripped him tightly, as if her body sought to milk his climax from his body and channel it into hers ... and perhaps that is just what she both wanted and needed.<br><br>Never before had her want been so great, overshadowing even her need.&nbsp; Her pale, pupil-less eyes opened wide and drunk in her lover's expression, her tongue flicking and coiling around his, dual thrusts as she cried out.&nbsp; His mouth filled with her breath, the taste softly sweet, spicy all at once as her body worked in sync to rouse him to ever greater heights.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>14-12-2014, 13:41:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://33.media.tumblr.com/56249b749737c90dfa3f14d08894b6b9/tumblr_mrlcwxeEqZ1qh3rsao1_500.jpg)</div>Lucius had indeed come out of his addled state. He'd worry about his bed later, and he'd worry about the beautiful woman who had come to his aid later, as well. His only regret was that the newcomer – whoever she was – wasn't as naked as the succubus and himself. Too bad.<br><br>Then Zenora was hurling one of his vases through the air.<br><br>“NOOOO!” Lucius shouted, just as the vase shattered against the wall where the newcomer had just been standing. Lucius was wide-eyed and shouting at her again, his blade in hand, when Zenora picked up another vase.<br><br>“NO! Wait! That's-....”<br><br>-CRASSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!-<br><br>“..Expensive....,” he groaned, having moved out of the way just in time to avoid the hurled missile. Lucius was now trying to think of a way to get rid of the flying bitch – or, at the very least, to get her OUT of his chambers so that she didn't leave them a complete shambles.<br><br>And then the newcomer was scolding him with a harsh snarl, as well, for being concerned about his possessions! The nerve of some people! He just gave the newcomer a stern look in return. He would deal with -her- later.<br><br>Then Lady Alerian who wasn't Lady Alerian taunted him about his blade. Lucius glanced at his weapon for a moment, not really sure if it would harm her or not – but that didn't mean he wasn't going to sure as fuck -try-, dammit. But then Zenora had to take it a step further and get all -personal-, mentioning the 'useless blade' between his legs, and Lucius's eyes widened a bit. <br><br>“You -bitch-! I know how to wield my 'blade' just fine, thank you, as you witnessed yourself – unless you have problems bringing ALL your conquests to climax!” he growled. Fuck that if he was going to take her shit, especially after getting his hopes up, ruining his nigh with her transformation, and now destroying bits of his chambers piece by piece! How had Duncan mated with this bitch and lived to tell about it?!?!?<br><br>Then, his blade (the one in his hand) flickered, the result of some spell cast by the newcomer. Lucius was familiar with such a spell, though he could not cast such a thing himself. She was a priest, then, of some sort. But if she was a member of their own local priesthood, Lucius told himself that he needed to get out more often.<br><br>But now the newcomer was talking again, and once more she mentioned that he 'belonged' to her. What was with that, he wondered? She even mentioned their bodies moving in concert with one another... a fact he would have preferred to test for himself, under different circumstances. The newcomer was taunting the flying bitch, and Lucius was more than willing to help out.<br><br>“Yeah! And she's a WAY better lay than you are, too!” <br><br>Obviously, Lucius was not at all sure about the best way to insult a succubus, having never met one (to his knowledge) until that night. The succubus's eyes looked from the newcomer, to Lucius and now back again to the newcomer as she continued the taunting, and Lucius slowly circled to his left away from the newcomer as the flying woman became more focused on the newcomer's voice and insults. The newcomer circled the opposite direction... <br><br>Perhaps there was something to this 'working in concert' claim after all.<br><br>The floating wench grew angrier, and as her attention fell more on the newcomer, Lucius recognized the ploy for what it was – a distraction, so he went quiet and remained so stalking back around to the creature's rear, and once there, he began to slowly approach it, and then a few paces away his stance changed, and he began his approach on the balls of his feet, ignoring the fact that he was still buck naked, his focus on his target.<br><br>His footsteps were silent, his practiced body fluid and swift. As he drew closer, his movement quickened, and at the last possible moment his legs bent slightly – and sent himself airborne as the weapon raised up over his head, then arched forward in a blur or movement.<br><br>A normal target wouldn't have had much reaction time at all, but Zenora was no ordinary target. She sense the attack coming, and at the last possible second she hovered to the left, thinking he would pass right on by – but that wasn't what happened. Instead, she veered to the side – but the incoming strike was too fast to avoid completely, and he made her pay dearly for her hesitation.<br><br>The blade -should- have struck her between the shoulder-blades, for that was where he was intending the blow to land. Instead, her movement was so fast, it altered the strike point, and instead, the blade carved neatly – and easily – through most of her right wing, nearly severing the pinion as the blade then cut a long gash all the way down and across the web-like membrane. <br><br>Lucius landed on the ground feet-first, letting his momentum take him to the ground in a roll, then up to his feet several yards away from Zenora, spinning to face her in case of a counter attack.<br><br>But the damage had been done, and Lucius faintly marveled at how easily the blade had cut through its victim. <br><br>“Last chance,” Lucius hissed, hoping Zenora would take that as a hint and depart...<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan was a prideful man – in some ways, at least. Being a skilled 'tactician' in the bedroom was certainly one of those ways, and it had been sometime – since he was a lad, in his teen years – since he had pleasured a woman and not climaxed precisely when he meant to. Learning control over a man's seeding was simply another form of control that anyone might learn. <br><br>But from the first thrust, Jazelle was attempting to re-write his outlook in that regard. Never had he felt a woman like this, never had the word 'exotic' meant anything more than a fancy dress or jewelry. Now, Jazelle's body beneath him was far more exotic than he had ever imagined, and he was so very, very pleased to discover that her body was perfectly designed for such pleasures, almost as if made for him personally.<br><br>It would be difficult for him to say that her kiss in those moments was anything less than a conveyance of love and adoration. -No- woman could kiss like that and claim to have nothing more than a 'passing fancy' for the man she kissed. As her tongue entwined with his, he firmly believed that. Maybe it was all part of her 'presentation', the usual set-up she gave all of her victims in the past. Duncan wasn't sure, and he wasn't in the mood to ask at that moment.<br><br>Her hands moved, one to his ass, as if to coach how his lower body would thrust into her and withdraw. Her other hand culed up into his hair, gently feeling and toying with it as he labored above her. Her own toned hips and flanks began to move, curling herself against him and his movements, providing for a more sensual experience, hopefully for the both of them.<br><br>Her roaming hands encouraged him to set his own free, and using one to maintain his weight above her, he moved the other down to her ribs, fingers sliding upward, nails dragging lightly across her impossibly smooth skin. He kissed her, so he could not see, but his hands felt their way up to the curve of her breast, slipping up and over it, squeezing gently before kneading it slowly, thumb seeking her nipple to tease and test her. So far, her body seemed to enjoy the usual types of touches a woman might, and he had no reason to doubt that the rest would be any different.<br><br>She cried out as he worked her hard, stretching, pushing, his hips swirling slightly with some of his thrusts, which in turned swirled his cock inside her. Her hand could feel it, his rump muscles tensing tight and flexing with each thrust, as if to press into her more fully. <br><br>He had never so badly wanted to spill so quickly – unless he revisited his early days as a man.<br><br>Duncan's hips began to curl more deeply as he continued without pause. Sounds from his throat were born from and died right against her lips. Soon, his hand left her breast and slid quickly down her body as he eased his balance back on his hindquarters now. Taking the weight off his other hand, now free he moved it as well, both hands slipping down her flanks and to her thighs, slipping to the insides of her thighs against his hips – and then curled under them and gently lifting.<br><br>The move curled her hips more for him, and lifting her thighs back and away, baring more of her sex to him – which he wasted no time in plundering.<br><br>A deeper groan reverberated in her mouth such that he gently pulled his lips from hers – but not too far to prevent touch. The tip of his tongue lathered against her lips, inviting her longer, forked tongue to join with his again. <br><br>“Jazelle, my sweet...,” he whispered almost breathlessly, “My Jazelle, my goddess, my angel...,” he purred, his voice nothing but a verbal outlet for the pleasure she gave him. The look on his face, the sound of his breathing, the depth of his thrusts... surely he would not last much longer...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>15-12-2014, 00:30:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>The warrior had spirit, even if his priorities seemed somewhat skewed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet Mercy was willing to wager that a good 50% of the top warriors this keep could boast would have fared far worse against an unconstrained succubus, and he was using his opponents tactics against her very well.&nbsp; That was deserving of some regard, so long as he kept his head.<br><br><em>"Things aren't going your way, are they?&nbsp; Who summoned you to this realm, succubus?&nbsp; Tell me his name, and I will make your banishment gentle."</em><br><br>The priestess did not expect that it would be that easy.&nbsp; If she had been summoned, and the summoner still breathed, she would have a way back into this realm.&nbsp; If, however, it had been her taskmaster who brought her forth, only the stupidest demon ... or the cleverest ... would reveal his name.&nbsp; All she wanted was to keep the Succubus' attention from the warrior, long enough for him to use his blade.&nbsp; There would be time enough to guard against a return once they had time to confer and formulate a plan, to control the situation rather than just reacting to it.<br><br>Zenora did not answer, but only held forth her hand, clawed fingers curved upward in the shape of a cup.&nbsp; Mercy's eyes widened, and she threw herself to the side just as a roiling egg-shaped ball flame sprang to life.<br><br>Lucius had taken full advantage of the distraction, and launched his attack just as the succubus' arm heaved back and threw.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy's tumble sent her rolling beneath the gout of blue-red-purple flame, which continued on to the wall, striking the large oil painting hung there, bathing the scantily clad reclining beauty in a brilliant light for just a moment before the flames took hold of the paints and set the oils ablaze, blackening and eating through the taut canvas below.<br><br>The naked warrior's blade ... the metal one ... cleaved through the succubus' powerful wing muscle and tendon with a sickening snap as he rolled clear.&nbsp; Mercy drew herself up into a crouch as Zenora screamed, a screech of agony as she rolled mid-air while the magic of the abjuration ate into her and consumed her hold upon the plane she had invaded.<br><br>As the flames she had thrown consumed Lucius von Straad's prize work of art, the divine flames of abjuration ate away at the succubus' reality, transforming her feathered wings into ash and smoke.&nbsp; With a final, despairing scream, she was gone.&nbsp; Where she had been, there was nothing but a haze of oily smoke rising in the air, and glowing bits of feathers that winked out as the flames turned them to ash.<br><br>Slowly, Mercy stood, the symbol of her god's rise thrust forward defiantly, until she had ascertained that the succubus was gone.&nbsp; &nbsp;The divine focus dimmed, until it was nothing more than ordinary gold, and Mercy tucked it away inside her robes before turning to address Lucius ... her eyes now roaming boldly over his still naked form with a faint smile hovering on her lips.<br><em><br>"Hurry.&nbsp; Get dressed.&nbsp; Her master may come looking, and we are not prepared to face the likes of him -- go, while I douse this fire.&nbsp; We need allies, and there are none to be found amongst your keep's foolish priests that even now bicker amongst themselves while a hungry wolf ravages their sheep!"</em><br><br>Mercy could sense her mother's presence when she opened herself to it ... she could have easily called for her with confidence, but she did not wish to bring Jazelle unprepared into a Balor's influence.&nbsp; Things had gotten vastly more complicated than she had envisioned, in a very short span of time.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>The foreplay between herself and Duncan had lasted half a night, more, and there were years of discovering one another's bodies, fantasies, needs and passions awaiting them.&nbsp; This was the sealing of their pact, the agreement that they had forged over a game of cards and mutual desire -- a desire that was certainly very physical, but also almost spiritual as well.<br><br>As fingertips, nails dragging lightly, trailed over her skin, Jazelle returned the favor.&nbsp; Her nails were long, strong, and capable of dealing damage; to stroke her general, however, she was careful to use only enough force to bring pleasure&nbsp; rather than pain.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her breasts reacted to his touch familiarly, instantly, hardening to stiff peaks beneath the swirl of his thumb.&nbsp; The rest of her body did likewise, flowing almost seamlessly into the full rush of passion as their bodies moved together in an increasingly emphatic dance.<br><br>This was what she had wanted, from the first moment she had seen him, from the first time he caressed her name with his voice.&nbsp; He named her his, and Jazelle felt only joy that rivaled her pleasure in his body.&nbsp; Surely his words were blasphemy of some sort, but the heavens did not open, and fire did not rain down.<br><br><em>"My Duncan ... my general ... mine ..."</em> she answered, her eyes fasted upon him as she arched beneath him, driving against his thrusts until the bed beneath them rocked and bounced faintly, the weight and craftsmanship of the bed alone preventing further reverberations.<br><br>She knew, she thought, what to expect as her muscles tightened and tensed, her body heating as he stoked her passions, coaxing perspiration from Duncan's pores to drip and mix with the slick lubrication leaking from the site of their joining.&nbsp; She would reach the height of her pleasures just as she always did, an explosion of bright sound and fury as the first spurt of his seed bathed her womb, and she longed for it, worked for it.&nbsp; Her body coaxed, promised, demanded all for that moment ... and she howled when it came, a full stroke before Duncan buried himself deep, and released within her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-12-2014, 09:04:44</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>The newcomer was obviously some sort of priestess, and that became more apparent with each passing moment just by the language she was using. Hefty words like 'banishment' and 'summoning' were being bandied about, and Lucius heard them even if he focused his attentions on his target's movements, planning his strike carefully. As with any foe, Lucius knew that he may only ever get a single attempt at this...<br><br>When he finally attacked – he did so with all his effort and skill. For all his banter and hubris, Lucius was incredibly gifted with a blade (in this case, both of them). His blow struck true, he let the lunging leap carry him, rolled with the momentum, and spun around to face her, calling out his warning before the wicked temptress was even back in his sights.<br><br>But it was all for nothing, as the wicked winged woman was burning up, as if his blade had not only nearly severed&nbsp; one of her wings not far from the shoulder, but had also set her on -fire-....<br><br>As well as his prizeed, precious, coveted DeLoretta painting.<br><br>“NOOOOOOOOOO!” he cried out, his distress mingling with the cries of the succubus (for drastically different reasons) as the demon-woman simply -burned alive-, her body disappearing bit by bit as the flames consumed her whole. Then she was gone, save for the oily stench and smoke that was already beginning to fade as well. Soon, there would be no trace of her passing, no sign of her death, not a single bloodstain and if his eyes were to be&nbsp; believed, even the few stray feathers that floated gently to the stone floor would also be gone as well.<br><br>Lucius's eyes moved over to the painting that was quickly consumed as well, though not as quickly as the she-devil had been. The painting itself was over a hundred years old, and the canvas and oils were greedily devoured by the flickering flames. It was too late, he knew to save it, and all he could do was watch the flames consume it. It was hanging from a stone wall, and beneath it was a stone floor. The nearest carpet edge was several feet away... so even when the leather strap holding it to the wall gave way and the wood framed piece of art crashed to the floor, it collapsed and folded in on itself, far enough away from anything combustible to be a worry.<br><br>He had all but forgotten the presence of the beautiful priestess until he heard her voice. Lucius glanced at her for a moment, seeing her eyes roam over his body. What good would -that- do him, though? Nuns and priestesses were sworn to vows of chastity – she could look at she wanted, but he knew there would be no pleasure given or taken now. <br><br>She spoke, urging him to hurry and dress, speaking about a master who might come looking and finding allies and priests....<br><br>And then he was a blur, moving with incredible speed, pushing her backward agains the nearby wall, his left forearm pressed horizontally across her upper chest between her neck and breasts. He pinned her -firmly-, roughly, and his other hand held his blade upraised – the business end pointed directly at her throat, the tip just twelve inches away. <br><br>Lucius's face was not pleased. The fact that he was still completely nude didn't seem to register with him at all, at least not in that moment.<br><br>“I am not going -anywhere- until I get some fucking -answers-,” he growled. “I don't even know who you are, and while you might be able to douse those flames,” his head twitched in the direction of the burning painting, “Sadly, you can't douse -my- flames, priestess. So then -speak-! And be quick about it! Who the hell are you? Who the hell was -she-? Why did simple fucking cause her to turn into a demon from hell, and most importantly,” he paused, gritting his teeth.<br><br>“Who the hell is going to pay for my DeLoretta?!?!?” <br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Perhaps he imagined it. Duncan had surely dreamt of the perfect woman time and time again, which contributed to the regular disappointment when he marked another off his list through the years that did not meet his... requirements. <br><br>But right then and there, as he thrust into Jazelle, he believed he had found her. The oddest creature, in the oddest of places, in the oddest of ways. Was that a sign to him, then? Had all the... abnormalties of their... friendnship?... been the proof that he needed to convince him that she was 'the one'?<br><br>It could be. Or, it could simply be his hope at work.<br><br>She smiled at him several times as he took her, his eyes locked on hers, their legs entwined, the honed, ripped muscles of his abs, chest, thighs, hips, all working in concert to drive himself into her like a machine, firm and unyielding, yet slow enough to be in complete control, willing her body to give in to him, willing her body to submit. And, if she were his usual 'prey', it would have happened realtively quickly.<br><br>But Jazelle was not his normal partner, and that was likely what sealed his desire for her. <br><br>Nails that could likely rend leather armor moved down his skin in gentle caresses. More than once, one of his hands caressed her throat – a hand that could crush her windpipe with little effort. They each took turns kissing the flesh of the other, gently grazing the skin of the other with their teeth – teeth that could be used as a weapon, as well. But despite their bodies being honed for different reasons, for that night, their bodies were being used as one, for a much higher purpose.<br><br>They each also whispered to each other, her sultry voice claiming him, and his own voice, deep yet uneven from the sensuality of their movements, claimed her in return.<br><br>He did not bother to hide the sounds of his pleasure, sharing his every sensation with the walls, floor, and ceiling that surrounded them. Duncan took her as slow and strong as he could, but it was inevitable that their mating would speed up, and the bed beneath them, thankfully, held fast.<br><br>Perhaps he imagined it, but he felt as though her very heart was into this, the way she made love to him. She -could- have done any number of things to hasten the ending, but she didn't. She neither mocked him nor taunted him, nor did she urge him to spend himself quickly. And her kiss...<br><br>Had she kissed -all- of her previous lovers like she kissed him?<br><br>Duncan's efforts added a dampness to his skin, and when he realized it, he was astonished that he had lasted that long. He was focused, clearly, on pleasing her, and perhaps that was all that it took to rein in his simple desire to empty himself fully and completely in a rush.<br><br>But that time would come, and there would be no avoiding it. His slick, muscled torso glided easily over her tone abdominals, breast to breast as he ground into her more deeply, his hands pinning her thighs up to her sides, her knees bent, her heels resting against his flanks. He drove deeply, mercilessly, his increase groans the tell-tale signs that he was almost defeated.<br><br>He grit his teeth, holding back, denying himself as long as possible... Just another thrust... just one more... just another... he tensed his groin as tightly as he could, teeth clenched, but he did not slow down. All the while her body coaxed him in ways a mortal woman would never know, or learn, and in so doing, Duncan felt his body betray him quicker than he would have liked – as he finally gave-in, surrendering to her right at the moment of his last plunge – and began to paint the inside of her womb with his seed.<br><br>His deep, guttural growl mingled with her howl, and he had the strength left to withdraw slightly, then make one last final, emphatic push into her before the rest began to flow, and his vision blurred, his ragged voice calling out for her with the only word his lips seemed able to form....<br><br><em><strong>“Jazelle.....!”</strong></em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>15-12-2014, 18:06:28</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>There were times when Mercy found being slammed up against a wall by a very naked man an enjoyable process.&nbsp; There was something quite appealing about men who knew what they wanted from a woman strong enough to deliver it.&nbsp; This, unfortunately, was not one of those times.&nbsp; Attractive this one might be, but he'd become too used to his stone walls and fine furnishing.&nbsp; The fact that he was still coated in the bodily fluids of a succubus also detracted from his appeal, as did the blade pointed at her throat.<br><br>His distress was somewhat understandable, even if his manners were lacking.&nbsp; She was merely a half-succubus and she could terrify weak-willed men into gibbering idiots ... not that it was that great a leap for some men.&nbsp; She supposed that should be taken into account, that he had shown enough fortitude to resist a full-blood seductress, or enough capacity to irritate her into such rage that she lost her purpose.&nbsp; And, too, there was the possibility that he had something she wanted.&nbsp; Therefore, Mercy did her best to quash the immediate desire to leave him there to face the succubus' handler alone.<br><br>The priestess' eyes bored into her attacker's without any hint of surrender.&nbsp; There were some advantages to faith, and even fanaticism.&nbsp; If one's beliefs were strong enough, they were armor against fear and threat.&nbsp; The strength of the armor depended upon the degree of belief.&nbsp; Mercy was a true believer, and if the purpose she was to serve for her god was her death at this warrior's hands, then so be it.<br><br>Of course, it helped that she wasn't fully human, and that she was the faithful implement of her god.&nbsp; There was a good chance that his blade would not be enough to dispatch her even if he put it to use.&nbsp; It also helped that she had some facility in reading men.&nbsp; She did not believe that he would carry through with his threat.&nbsp; His anger was not leveled against her; she was simply the only target upon which he could give it expression.<br><br><em>"Yes, she did say you needed some help when it came to fucking, didn't she?" </em> The barb was delivered with just the faintest upturn of her lips, the barest suggestion of a smile, though her eyes didn't warm.&nbsp; <em>"If you don't believe me when I say this is not the time or the place, then why would you credit anything else I might utter?&nbsp; If you wish to face that which can call such creatures to his bidding with your cock hanging out and your ass bare, then by all means ...&nbsp; "<br></em><br>His hold precluded&nbsp; the gesture she would have preferred to make, but she could still shrug her shoulders slightly.<br><em><br>"The spell I used upon your blade was expended upon the succubus, and I have no spare ... even if it would work against a greater demon."</em><br><br>Mercy forced herself to relax back against the wall, her eyes dropping down to the tip of the warrior's blade, offering no resistance.&nbsp; <em>"And I don't introduce myself at sword-point, so either use your blades ..."</em><br><br>The flicker of a smile again, the barest flicker, as she alluded to the entendre ...<br><br><em>"or put them away, for later."</em><br><br>Should he possess sense, she'd later tell him that the answer to his last question was one he probably didn't want to know.&nbsp; Creatures from the abyss always paid their debts, but rarely with coin that benefited the receiver.&nbsp; It had been a rather nice painting, though. <br><br>If he did not, the fun would begin in earnest ... at least for some.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>For a long moment, Jazelle was aware only of Duncan's pleasure and of her own, the sensations slamming through her body like the force of a tidal wave,&nbsp; lifting her up to a lofty, towering height and then cradling her in its wake as it receded.&nbsp; Of the hunger, there was not even the slightest presence, as if it too had been washed away,<br><br>The hunger ... was something that she had learned to endure, even as she had learned to resist it.&nbsp; There had been times when she had fed so greedily, so gluttonously, that it had gone dormant for some spell.&nbsp; Yet that was a time before she had been freed, and even then ... there had been no peace from the feeling, only a bloated, stretched torpor.<br><br>That something was different, she knew immediately.&nbsp; What it was ... what she was feeling ... took longer to process as her lover, her possessor, hovered above her, his urgency spent, her name still and echo in her ears, in the stone, in his aura.&nbsp; What it meant, how long it might last, she did not know.<br>Her head lifted, her hands moving with purpose along Duncan's back, shoulders, into those dark curls that called to her caress like a siren's song.&nbsp; As her body slowly relaxed, her legs sliding down along his to rest upon the rumpled bed, the muscles that gripped his manhood easing, Jazelle kissed Duncan as if it would be her last kiss, her last deed.<br><br>She kissed him as if this had been their first kiss, and she needed to burn the memory of it upon both their souls.<br><br>Even when the warnings sounded, his breath depleted and she dragged her lips and tongue from his, her kisses continued, neck, throat, shoulders until she had calmed enough to sink back upon the bed, eyes closed.&nbsp; And for a moment, when she opened them to gaze up into her lover's face, the pure white orbs were no longer pure white, but bore just the hint of color in the shape of a circle, with a darker feline-shaped center in its midst.<br><br>The effect did not last long ... and nor did the hunger's complete absence.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>16-12-2014, 02:37:14</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius held fast, and it did not make him feel at all reassured when Mercy reacted almost as if she was quite used to being in this position – a naked man pointing not one, but two 'swords' at her. Her voice was calm, almost soothing, but she didn't have wings, nor did she have any other signs of demonic influence that he could see. And, she had been fighting against the succubus and it had have ultimately been her power that banished the she-devil from his chambers.<br><br>Still, she most certainly did -not- fit the description of -any- of the priests – or few priestesses he had ever seen before. This one was... even more beautiful than the succubus had been, and even now all thoughts of Lady Alerian were gone to the wind, like so much dust.<br><br>She had read him right, though – he had no intention of actually -hurting- her. She didn't know that, though, unless she knew him from somewhere, and he was certain he would have remembered meeting -this- one before. A part of him wanted to ask if she, too, knew Duncan Vanzelle, but he decided to leave that alone for now, not wanting to jinx it.<br><br>“She was just embarrassed to face the fact that she had sparred with me... and -lost-,” he responded to her little barb. “But if you have any doubts yourself, the door is open... feel free to put me to the test, -sister-,” he said, emphasizing her priestly nature. <br><br>She restated her warning, and reminded him in a not-so-subtle way that he was still naked, and hinted that something much worse than the succubus was roaming about... <br><br>The King... Duncan... the treasury... there were many different targets that this 'thing' could gravitate towards. Perhaps Lucius had just been one of many targets?<br><br>She shrugged, and nodded toward his blade when she indicated that the temporary enchantment she had put on it was gone and not easily replaceable, and he felt her relax beneath the press of his arm against her. Telling him to use his 'blades' – or put them away, he felt a faint hint of guilt, aiming the business end of his weapon at her in a dangerous fashion, a priestess no less.<br><br>Slowly, the tip of the blade wavered and began to lower, and he eased himself away from her, his eyes glued to her face for a moment, seeking any hint of deception. Not seeing any, he turned and strode away from her, over to a large armoire against the far away, opposite the wall with the burning remains of the painting.<br><br>He winced but said nothing as he tracked barefooted over broken pieces of glass from the other items the succubus had thrown. Reaching the armoire, he set his blade aside (the metal one) momentarily as he hastily began to fish out some clothing.<br><br>“I had her right where I wanted,” he declared as he began to get dressed. “I had been saving myself to the end, and she was right one edge,” he assured her, though it was fairly obvious he was -trying- to save face a bit. “How was I supposed to know that she was some... some angry demon-woman from the deepest depths of the abyss? I've been with some very... rude women before, but this one...,” he shook his head as he lowered a pair of leather breeches toward the floor, and stuck one foot into the pant leg, then the other. He moved quickly, though, just as the priestess had encouraged.<br><br>“So... what should we be doing next to remedy this situation?” he asked, reaching over for a loose linen shirt that he began to pull over his head. He noted to himself rather sadly that she had not answered his question as to who was going to replace his damaged works of art, especially the painting...<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>If this was how Jazelle was going to be every time he took her, Duncan knew for a fact he'd never have another woman in his life. It was just that simple. Not only was he floating in a sea of emotions he had only felt once before, he was also eager to touch her more, please her more... He moved back and forth now, slow, feeling his spend slipping and roiling around inside her where he had deposited it. <br><br>And then they kissed – the kind of kiss one might give another that said, 'I am done...', only, Duncan didn't want to be 'done'. Duncan hoped, instead, that this was just the beginning. Not just tonight, but... <br><br>The sweet kiss ended, and he raised his head, his ears ringing slightly from the intensity of it all... or was that the ringing of an alarm, as if coming from some far-off place?<br><br>Her lips drew him back to her, though, immediately. Soft, warm Jazelle kisses on his neck, his throat – he lifted his chin slightly, giving her more room, and after he lips explored a little more, she lowered her head back upon the bed, eyes closed. He leaned down, kissing -her- neck for a moment, then the curve of her jawline, his eyes always focused on hers, even when hers were closed. But when she opened hers again a moment later, he noted the odd change they had undergone...<br><br>He raised his head for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Jazelle? Is everything alright?” he asked softly. “Your eyes....,” he pointed out, hoping she might explain to him what it meant.<br><br>But he didn't stop moving. He felt a debt weighing on his shoulders, and slowly he lowered his head, lips finding the smooth expanse of skin just above her breasts. He began to kiss a trail downward, fully intending to repay that debt...<br><br><em>With interest.</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>16-12-2014, 23:33:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>The rate of Mercy's breathing remained calm while the warrior calmed, and his blade finally lowered and he stepped away, allowing her to ease from the wall as their gaze held.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"You'll have to tell me more about the ... battle, later," </em>Mercy agreed mildly.&nbsp; Bravado was a warrior's weapon, and she had no need to attempt to strip it from him now.<br><br>Once she ascertained that the sooty remnants of the painting would not cause further damage, she looked casually about, attempting to ascertain whether there was any obvious sign of the artifact she was seeking.&nbsp; &nbsp;Of course, had there been ... surely the succubus would have secured it or summoned her master.&nbsp; Mercy's eyes turned back to Lucius as he pulled on his pants as he talked.&nbsp; She snorted, softly, her gaze lingering.&nbsp; This was a succubus ... Mercy suspected that had the article been displayed on the mantle or leaning against the bed, she would have paid no attention until she had gotten what she desired.<br><em><br>"You could not have known, likely.&nbsp; Succubi take the form of that which men desire most.&nbsp; A sweetheart, a lost love, an ideal that is close to your thoughts.&nbsp; The smarter, older ones are more subtle ... gleaning familiarity rather than attempting a mirror image that might be discovered through their ignorance.&nbsp; &nbsp;Those are the most dangerous."</em><br><br>When Lucius asked what their next steps should be, Mercy tapped her lips with an index finger thoughtfully, considering.&nbsp; The priests?&nbsp; Certainly not.&nbsp; Mercy had already overheard enough to know that the church's corruption was rife in the keep.&nbsp; It would not have surprised her one bit to find that the door to the abyss had been opened there by one seeking to bolster his own power at any cost.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"You are a warrior, are you not?&nbsp; A soldier, a guard?&nbsp; I would suggest that we make your commander aware of the danger.&nbsp; I am newly come to this place, but I know there is one here I trust who may be able to offer council and assistance.&nbsp; &nbsp;I would ask that you accompany me if you can.&nbsp; The threat the succubus poses to you, should she have absorbed any of your essence, is not ended."</em><br><em><br>Mercy paused, and considered.&nbsp; "My name is Mercy.&nbsp; I was paying a visit to one of your temples when I overheard the mention of the danger.&nbsp; &nbsp;As such things are of interest to me, I determined to investigate.&nbsp; I picked up the succubus' trail outside a tavern and followed it ... to you.&nbsp; Normally I would have knocked ... but ...&nbsp; " </em> She shrugged.&nbsp; Mercy did not lie, but nor did she tell the whole truth.&nbsp; Lies were very easy to find out.&nbsp; Incomplete truths were often infinitely more useful and did not carry the ugly taint of deception.<br><br><em>"I am sorry that your evening did not go as you had hoped.&nbsp; You did well in fending her off so long as you did."</em>&nbsp; Had Mercy known the true scope of the battle ... her interest in the warrior would have been compounded ... though the laughter that she would not have been able to contain might not have advanced her cause.&nbsp; A little flattery might soothe his ego, and make him better disposed toward her while she considered the best courses of action.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br><em>"Everything is ... wonderful ..." </em>Jazelle answered, almost dreamily, her gaze slightly unfocused.&nbsp; The hunger had been a presence in her consciousness for so long as she had existed.&nbsp; It had been the first thing in her awareness, an ache that had grown like a blaze fed with rich coal.&nbsp; During her time in the abyss, it had been a primal force, one that she had learned to control only enough to make her hunts more successful.&nbsp; Only after she had slipped those bonds had she learned to dampen it, to control it, to harness it ... but even so its ache was always with her.&nbsp; Its absence was ... an intoxicant.<br><br>His question about her eyes had not gone unnoticed, it simply faded in import as Duncan shifted above her, his mouth trailing kisses down her body.&nbsp; The hunger may have receded, but it had not taken with it desire.&nbsp; She knew his desire, that which he had wanted when they had played together, teased each other upon the bed in her sanctuary.<br><br>She knew his desire, and it was her own.&nbsp; There was no thought of denying him, not now, and never again should his desires be within her to grant.<br><br>Lazily, her movements almost feline, like a cat's that had been basking in the sun, she moved to welcome his kiss and touch, offering up her body eagerly.<br><br><em>"My love."</em><br><br>Any other circumstance, the proximity of her daughter in battle with a dangerous foe likely would have registered, prompting Jazelle to investigate further, but when the battle began, she had been in the throes of passion with Duncan and that had claimed all of her attention.&nbsp; &nbsp; Now, such was her distraction that Mercy's movement through the city went unnoticed, though the wards that she had set in Duncan's room would perhaps have been enough to rouse her had the Balor itself breached them.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-12-2014, 16:05:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>The mysterious woman before him urged him to tell her about the 'battle'... later. For a moment, it struck him as odd that first, a woman would want to hear of such a thing, and secondly, a priestess of all things. No, she was being sarcastic... and Lucius could appreciate that. <br><br>“I've only heard of such things in stories... though I must confess, some of my earlier dalliances were with women who might have fit the description,” he smirked as he hurriedly dressed. “Though not like Lady Alerian,” he said, shaking his head. “And she wasn't a mimic of a sweetheart or lost love, or an ideal person for -me-,” he added – then paused for a moment.<br><br>“Duncan...,” he finally said, brow furrowed.<br><br>“She claimed to have recognized Duncan, and Duncan -knew- her. They had... a 'thing'.... some time ago. I simply thought she was a beautiful woman, but no... her image was created from -his- mind, if what you are saying is true. That could mean....”<br><br>His eyes widened a bit, then he cursed. “Fuck, that could mean -he- is in trouble! Gleaning familiarity? He doesn't know! This isn't Lady Alerian at all!”<br><br>Lucius began to move all the faster.<br><br>“Yes, I am a warrior, my general's second in command. And yes, making him aware of the situation is paramount.” His eyes darted up to her when she mentioned there was 'one' in this place that was new to her whom she trusted. She asked for Lucius's company, and informed him that the threat had not ended quite yet. Lucius simply nodded.<br><br>“I agree. I shall protect you, priestess. But first – we must reach my general and make him aware of the situation.” He strapped on his sword belt, then retrieved the weapon and slid it back into his scabbard.<br><br>“Mercy. A very interesting name,” he said, pausing long enough to cast a smile in her direction. “I am Lucius Von Straad, at your service,” he said, offering her a quickened flourish. “And I forgive you for barging into my room. Come. The general's chambers are not far.”<br><br>He headed for the door, leaving the smoldering flame of his artwork where it was, deciding to deal with the pain of that later. For now, he had to focus. Lucius assumed that Mercy would follow along as he marched quickly out of his chambers and into a long, wide hallway in the keep. As she moved to keep up with him, half walking, half skipping and jogging along to keep up with his longer strides, she apologized for his evening being ruined, and even complimented him.<br><br>“I appreciate your sentiment, kind priestess. And I assure you, I would have fended her off for far longer, but her frustration – and lack of carnal skill – was ultimately her undoing,” he said. Like Mercy, Lucius was not prone to outright lying, but&nbsp; incomplete truths – or innocent exaggerations were not out of the realm of his descriptions. “She was facing me on one of the two battlefields that I know best. If she is ever able to recover and return, she will know better than to face the likes of&nbsp; me in the bedroom ever again,” he said, casting a confident smirk in Mercy's direction for a moment. He remembered how the creature had so easily destroyed his bed... Between that and the painting, he had lost far more than he had gained in his dealings with this succubus who, he hoped, would never darken his door again.<br><br>“I have to say, you fought well, yourself. For a priestess facing a denizen of the abyss, you seemed quite calm – like you've done this before,” he suggested. Lucius might have been obtuse at times, but he could also often be quite observant. How calm the woman had seemed – even with his blade raised to her throat – had not been forgotten by him, and to say he was 'curious' about Mercy would have been an understatement. Who she was, where she was from, what color panties she was wearing, were just a few of the things he pondered as they made their way quickly towards Duncan's chambers...<br><br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan smiled at her condition, feeling as though he had done fairly well, all things considered. Ultimately he believed she desired receiving pleasure as much as she desired giving it, perhaps a bit more. He also noted that she had ignored his question, his curiosity, so he decided not to press the point... for now. There were other delectable duties that he was eager to perform, instead.<br><br>As his lips trailed downward, she moved faintly beneath his touch, offering herself, allowing herself to be touched however he wished. Oh, he was going to touch her, alright. He had a little 'payback' to give her, and then some, not to mention his curiosity was eating him nearly alive. Her two whispered words, 'My Love', reached his ears and gave him pause for just a moment as he looked up her body towards her face. This look, of course, brought his eyes across her breasts from beneath, and one of his hands snaked up to firmly grasp her left one, big palm and fingers taking ownership as he immediately began to knead it suggestively, fingertips occasionally brushing over the nipple in the soft, slow dance of skin on skin.<br><br>His lips moved onward, not deterred, though his mind pondered how she meant those words. It was a playful think, no more, he was convinced. A sentimental phrasing, said in passing even between friends, as ladies often did when addressing people familiar to them. That must be it...<br><br>Duncan finally reached his destination, his lips brushing along the short, pale-white curls of her sex, his throat letting out a gentle purr as he did so. His arm moved upward between her thighs, separating them somewhat as his hand gently cupped her sex, his palm curled gently over the curve of her mons. Then his hand slid down, slow... sultry, letting his fingertips find the beginning of her trench, whereupon his index and middle fingers – pinned together slid into her slit – and paused to gently part, spreading her moist folds apart, his other hand kneading her breast in gentle circular motions.<br><br>Slowly, his fingers then inched upward, easing back the soft, delectable hood of her clitoris, revealing it easily now, baring it to his eyes... and his plans.<br><br>Duncan smiled, his voice a low, faint growl. His warm breath washed over her sensitive bud as he spoke, “Jazelle, you might want to hold onto something, I am going to-....”<br><br>THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN!!!!!!!!<br><br>“Duncan! It's me!! Open up! This is an emergency!”&nbsp; Lucius's voice could faintly be heard, muffled in the distance.<br><br>THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN!!!!!!!!<br><br>His growl turned from sensual to anger in a heartbeat. <br><br>“What in the FUCK!” he rumbled, rising from his position, reluctantly taking his hands from Jazelle's body. He glanced at her as he quickly strode towards the nearest armoire and retrieved a robe, glancing back at the woman on the bed.<br><br>“This should only take a moment,” he said, gazing at her with -extremely- hungry eyes that, though not nearly as dramatic as -hers- had been, still conveyed his own hunger to her in a way she most certainly would understand. “My love...,” he added at the end.<br><br>“If he is fucking with me again, I will have him tarred and feathered...,” he grumbled, heading for the door.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-12-2014, 20:06:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>It seemed as if the warrior were taking a few hops, skips and jumps along the path of logic, but if it got him to move more quickly Mercy saw no need to press the point.<br><em><br>"My father was a priest.&nbsp; Perhaps he sought, when choosing my name, to contribute to the world that which he did not possess.&nbsp; &nbsp;If so, I'm afraid his example took hold more than his hopes.&nbsp; I am pleased to meet you, Lucius, though I wish that the circumstances had been different.&nbsp; Straad -- that is an old name, and one that has earned distinction in many lands." </em> She spoke as she moved with him, an enigmatic smile upon her face that reflected both her own words and Lucius' offer of protection.&nbsp; It was she who had been tasked with protecting her god's chosen, warriors all ... could it be that she had come here for reasons beyond her own? <br><br>Mercy followed, making no effort to slow the warrior down.&nbsp; This was no neighborhood stroll, and the sooner they had conferred with someone in a position to take action, the sooner she could focus more fully on what it was she did here ... whether it be pursuing her will or carrying out her god's wishes.&nbsp; Lucius did not seem, at first glance, one of Phaenix's chosen, but she would not presume to judge.&nbsp; If he were, it would be revealed, in time.<br><em><br>"I have fought many things, and yours was not the first succubus I have encountered." </em> Again, Mercy's eyes twinkled darkly at the truth of that statement, for all its omissions. <em> "Be glad that she did not seem to be one of any particular strength, and perhaps you should take greater care in the future when choosing those you take to your bed."</em><br><br>Of course, if he did that, he would certainly give her a wide berth.&nbsp; That might be ... disappointing.&nbsp; Or it might not.&nbsp; Mercy had not made up her mind to that effect yet.<br><br>The farther they progressed, Mercy sent a small sliver of herself out seeking her mother.&nbsp; Given that Jazelle, too, was a succubus, such contact was not without its risk, and Mercy stumbled as she brushed up against her mother's aura. Her breath sucked in on a soft, gutteral moan as a wave of desire, pure and unadulterated pleasure, overwhelmed her senses.&nbsp; Her body reacted with a an envious shudder, eyes going dark and wide, lips parting, face flushing ... and then she wrested her senses back abruptly as she reclaimed herself and raised the mental walls she had briefly lowered.&nbsp; Of course ... those who thought Phaenix humorless had never taken time to properly appreciate his machinations.&nbsp; Oh, this was going to be <strong>good!&nbsp; </strong> Mercy would not have missed it for more than a few dozen things, none of which would likely interfere between where she was and their destination.<br><br>There was no need for her to confirm her guesses.&nbsp; "<em>You know, forget that last piece of advice.&nbsp; What's life without a little risk?" </em>she opined with a little sidelong glance at the warrior as she redoubled her pace to keep up.&nbsp; Even a passing contact with a full succubus' passion was a heady thing,&nbsp; and perhaps there would be time.&nbsp; Later.&nbsp; But first, there was a very real and present threat, and the makings of some sublime entertainment to be dealt with first.<br><br>When they reached the door at the hallway's end, Mercy leaned back upon the wall, and watched with a feline smile as Lucius proceeded to attempt to bash it down.<br><br>Of course, she would never stand by idly while Lucius attacked her mother, even if he was so foolish -- and even if Jazelle could very readily defend herself.&nbsp; It was that very fact that promised to make this entertaining rather than possibly tragic.&nbsp; And, of course, should she need to step in and save the day for one of the two, she would ... but for now, she simply planned to observe and enjoy.<br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Jazelle was still very much riding her own personal high as Duncan proceeded to further take ownership of her body in delicious ways.&nbsp; She protested not at all this time when he declared his intent, to take that which she had denied while he still wore the collar.&nbsp; Her eyes, as she raised up to look down at him, were almost back to their normal blank sheen, though her expression lent both heat and hunger to her gaze.&nbsp; Obediently, she reached out to take hold of the bed frame in eager anticipation as his fingers bared, readied, her most sensitive area ... the growl in his voice already acting on her senses as her body readied once more ...<br><br>Her growl joined his as the pounding on the door commenced, but she attempted to regain control of herself as best she could while Duncan pulled away and moved with purpose.&nbsp; His words calmed her somewhat, enough to nod her understanding ... and emphatic agreement as to it only taking a moment ... as her body flowed back into the shape of Lady Alerian.&nbsp; She had no reason to take another form, and hopefully it would provide Lucius all the answers he needed as to how things stood with her and Duncan.&nbsp; Flirting she did as a matter of course, but even without her promise to Duncan, the other was a mere spark overshadowed by a bonfire.<br><br>Rather than conjuring the illusion of clothes, or reaching for the gown she had discarded previously, Jazelle ... Lady Alerian ... slipped beneath the bedclothes and drew them up over her just enough, and no more.&nbsp; Hopefully that would help speed the advent of business.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-12-2014, 09:06:23</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div><br>Lucius cast sideways glances at Mercy as she explained a bit about her father, and the possibility of why he might have named her what he did. She even expressed herself as being 'pleased' to meet him... and of -course- she was: what woman -wouldn't- be pleased to meet one of the kingdom's most eligible bachelors – not only in the nude, but with full iron in his veins, eager to please and be pleased? He figured that beneath her calm, cool exterior, she wanted him. <br><br>He understood -completely-, of course.<br><br>“Yes, my family name is spread far and wide. My own father was no priest,” he said, glancing at her wryly for a moment. “He was a sailor. And he put my mother with child in port – one of -many- ports, if you get my meaning. At last count, I had seventeen brothers and sisters, though, not all of those claims could be confirmed, especially when one of those sisters tried to seduce me,” he said, while conveniently leaving out the fact that she had, indeed, succeeded. It seemed both the warrior and the priestess could both play the 'skip the detail' game.<br><br>She had a beautiful smile, though, for a priestess. In fact, looking her up and down as he walked, she had a body built for -sin-. Which was -very- unpriestess-like. A shame. A pity. In fact, it was downright -insulting- for the gods to tempt him like this. He forced his eyes back to the corridor ahead as she moved on to the topic of the succubus they had just faced, explaining that she had been a 'weak' one.<br><br>Lucius smirked. “I apologize for not choosing the -stronger- one, then,” he said with a gentle dose of sarcasm. “And I shall -indeed- be more careful about the succubi I choose to take to my bed in the future,” he added, glancing at her – and winking. Yes, he understand what she had meant, and yes, he was playfully toying with her words and the way she meant them. But no, he was not about to make such a change. The priests at his confessions had been recommending the exact same thing to him since he was fifteen, and it hadn't worked yet.<br><br>They trudged onward, Lucius hoping and praying the there hadn't been an other attacks on places of importance. Was the King safe? There was no general alarm yet, so he assumed the King was indeed safe. Mercy mentioned this succubus having a master – what would he be doing right now? And was the succubus alone? Had there been more than one? Lucius had the sudden image in his mind of all the army's senior leaders having their brains fucked out by sexy demon-women from hell. All things considered, there were worse ways to go – but it wouldn't bode well for the Kingdom if that was actually the case.<br><br>Mercy's sudden stumble caught the corner of Luciu's eye as he stopped and turned toward her, concerned. “Priestess?” he asked curiously, concern on his face. Had she been harmed during the fight? He didn't think she had been, but he had taken his eye off Mercy several times....Mercy's guttural moan and sucking-in of breath hinted to him, in his mind, that she had suffered some massive, sudden pain. He saw no blood, though, even when she shuddered visibly. <br><br>Then, just as quickly, the priestess was suggesting he ignore her last bit of advice.<br><br>Women. So... fickle sometimes!<br><br>Then they were off again, and soon found themselves at Duncan's abode.<br><br>“This is it. This late, he should be here. He's... the frigid type,” Lucius explained. “He only spends time with women -here-, not at their place, for some reason. I don't think he appreciates waking up in some unknown place or location.”<br><br>THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN!!!!!!!! <br><br>“Duncan! It's me!! Open up! This is an emergency!” Lucius shouted as Mercy leaned against the wall to the side.<br><br>THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN THUMN!!!!!!!! <br><br>It took a few moments, but suddenly... the door pulled back, and standing there in his bathroom was Duncan Vanzelle a look of absolute anger on his face.<br>---------------------------------<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan glared at Lucius for a long moment.<br><br>“Lucius, this had -better- be good. I am otherwise engaged and was about to... eat,” he said, being truthful. “So, unless it's-...”<br><br>“An emergency,” Lucius cut in, instantly getting Duncan's full attention. And then Lucius pushed through the doorway, glancing around the welcome foyer of his chambers. “It is, indeed. I was just attacked by a demon!” Lucius said. “The priestess Mercy,” he continued, glancing toward where Mercy remained standing, “Can confirm what I did and saw, but the worst part about it-...,” he began to say, but then suddenly froze when he glanced through a nearby doorway – and saw pure terror in the form of Lady Alerian laying in Duncan's bed.<br><br>“FUCK!” Lucius bellowed, drawing is sword and stepping in front of Duncan, glaring at 'Lady Alerian'. “Back Duncan! Get to safety!” Lucius shouted, his body in a defensive stance.<br><br>“What the hell, Lucius? Have you gone MAD? What is-....”<br><br>“That... that... CUNT... is not who she seems to be,” Lucius explained rapidly. “She's a demon-woman! I saw her with my own eyes!”<br><br>Duncan blinked. How could he -know-? Had Jazelle decided to reveal herself to Lucius somehow?<br><br>“What makes you believe this nonsense?” Duncan responded, doing his best to appear completely innocent.<br><br>“She came to me earlier tonight, several hours ago, coming on to me with raw desire,” he said. Slowly, Duncan's eyes turned to gaze at Jazelle through the doorway. The woman would be able to hear all that they discussed. <br><br>Could she? Could Jazelle have already broken her word to him? Or... had he released her from it... and she celebrated her freedom first-thing by visiting Lucius's quarters while Duncan was out speaking to grieving widows and family members? No... he couldn't believe it. He didn't -want- to believe it.<br><br>“The priestess is my witness,” Lucius said, glancing back where Mercy was waiting. <br><br>“So...&nbsp; you fucked Lady Alerian... while someone else watched?”<br><br>Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if Duncan was judging him. “Not that such a thing is so new to me, but no, Priestess Mercy came in later, near the end. She was instrumental in aiding me, though I had everything in-hand beforehand,” he assured Duncan, smiling back at Mercy for a moment.<br><br>Duncan then turned his eyes back to Jazelle. It -couldn't- be true, there -had- to be some mistake. Jazelle wouldn't do that to him... but would the demon within her force the issue?<br><br>“Come on, demon spawn!” Lucius growled. “Show your true self! Your deception is at an end!” Lucius turned his head to Duncan for just a moment. “I am glad that I arrived just in time! From the looks of it, you were about to dip into that abyssal creature, and likely would not have been able to resist her charms! Quick! Go for your weapons! I will cover you! Mercy, your holy symbol! Let us back her into a corner and kill her like the rabid bitch that she is!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-12-2014, 13:35:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Mercy's attention, once the door opened, was riveted on the man behind it.&nbsp; Her lips twitched in a small, knowing smile as she looked him up and down, keeping half an ear open for Lucius' explanation.&nbsp; She had never had the opportunity before to make the acquaintance of any of her mother's lovers - an unfairness that was about to be addressed.<br><br>Lucius' explanation of the events that had transpired, at least the ones she was privy to, was more or less accurate, if self-serving.&nbsp; At the moment, little that he omitted was important, so she only smiled faintly in response to Lucius' smile, while waiting for all hells to break loose inside.&nbsp; It was entirely possible that Jazelle would be annoyed enough at the mis-identification to do some of her own ass-kicking, or she might not care at all.&nbsp; Her mother was rarely volatile, but when she was ... even Mercy tended to take a few steps back and look for cover.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Inside, Jazelle's 'Lady Alerian' face turned frosty as she threw back the covering she had donned and slid from the bed.&nbsp; Valerian had said only that the Balor who had attacked the armory had departed -- he had not mentioned the presence of any other demon.&nbsp; But why?&nbsp; Had the assistance she had provided been discovered?&nbsp; But no, that seemed far to sophisticated a plot in response to that ... and one that would be effective only over time.&nbsp; Of course.&nbsp; Her ill-considered flirtation with Lucius', while she had attempted to stir Duncan's jealousy.&nbsp; She should be flattered, and at another time, when her position was stronger, she would have been.&nbsp; Now it was only another step backward.<br><br>The gown that she had discarded earlier, much earlier, was still there, and she drew it on - protestations of innocence while naked seemed a theatrical device, a moment of ridiculousness exaggerated for effect.&nbsp; Being doubted and accused of heinous acts was hardly anything new.&nbsp; It went with the territory of being a demon, and usually she took it in stride as a wise and perfectly reasonable response.&nbsp; Usually.<br><br><em>"As enticing as your second-in-command is, Duncan, I have never been one for snacking whilst awaiting a feast.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even if there were not the matter of our arrangement."</em><br><br>Mercy's ears perked up at that.&nbsp; Well, well, well - that sounded intriguing, and ... if she wasn't mistaken, there was actually the trace of something in her mother's voice beyond boredom or even amusement as she responded to the accusation. <em>&nbsp; "Actually, you didn't ... arrive in time, that is,"</em> she responded to Lucius, giving Duncan another knowing look from under her eyelashes as she pushed herself away from the wall and approached.&nbsp; Her brief contact with her mother's aura was proof enough of that for her, and yet Lucius' general looked in possession of all his faculties.<br><br><em>"Very dramatic, Lucius, and well delivered.&nbsp; Perhaps you should give some thought to a career as a bard, should your interest in soldiering wane.&nbsp; I hear they are better paid, particularly if they are wise enough, and attractive enough, to secure a rich patron.&nbsp; You would have no trouble, and perhaps she would even buy you another painting." </em> Perhaps it was not the time, but the deliciousness of the situation was simply to rich to be ignored.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle had received ample amusement from her attachments to men -- it seemed only fitting that she not squander this first with the shoe upon the other foot.<br><br>All the same, she had no wish for things to take an ugly turn.&nbsp; There was a reason that a popular strategy of attack was to turn your opponents against one another.&nbsp; It was a very effective, damaging ploy, and one that she herself had employed many times, and suspected that those listening had as well.<br><br><em>"But don't be ridiculous.&nbsp; The succubus you were ... entertaining ... has been dispatched, remember, with your very own sword?&nbsp; Fire, ashes, and brimstone, poof?&nbsp; She can and likely will return, eventually.&nbsp; It will take her some time to recover enough to command illusions flawlessly, and hers were not all that exact even before she was compelled back from whence she came.&nbsp; Right now, she is probably still screaming.&nbsp; It is not, from what I have been taught, a pleasant experience to be so dispossessed, but perhaps she will learn some humility from the lesson."&nbsp; </em>&nbsp; In fact, if she had been set to her task by the Balor, she would likely soon be in further agony when he came to punish her for her failure.&nbsp; That realization sobered Mercy, reminding her that at one point, her mother had suffered under that lash.<br><br>It had been, for her, a gentle rebuke.&nbsp; &nbsp;She thought she knew well why the succubus had come to Lucius in the form of this 'Lady Alerian' -- it was a pretty form after all, if you liked the type -- and Lucius apparently had, quite well.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could see how he might be attached to another explanation, particularly with his commander standing there with the woman in question fresh from his bed.&nbsp; But it seemed less than charitable for her to derive more amusement from the situation -- perhaps Charity was another name she should add to her collection.<br><br><em>"Even if that were not the case, I am certain that the lady beyond is not the one who attempted to have her way with you.&nbsp; She would have succeed, first, and second, I am acquainted enough with her that I would have known, regardless of what disguise she wore."</em><br><br><em>"Mother, my apologies for the interruption,"</em> she called through the half-opened doorway, raising her voice just a bit on the first word. <em> "Inopportune though our arrival might be, perhaps we should speak inside."</em><br><br><em>"Mercy," </em>Jazelle answered in response to her daughter's greeting, inclining her head.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her daughter's presence ... for all that she had missed her formative years ... was never an unwelcome one, for all the trouble she usually brought with her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Their eyes met, over and around the pugnacious shoulders of the two men in a private communication that had no need for words.<br><br><em>"I told you, Lucius, that there was one here whom I trusted to give counsel.&nbsp; She is within.&nbsp; Of course, you have no reason to trust me ... since you had things so well in hand when I let myself into your chambers."</em><br><br>It was she that was the demon spawn, but Lucius had no way to know that yet.&nbsp; Mercy wondered what he would do when he found out, as now seemed all but inevitable.&nbsp; Regrettable, perhaps, but perhaps the wisdom gained would lead the warrior to a long, illustrious career, even if it ruled out a demonstration of how he wielded his second blade.<br><br><em>"Duncan ... I mentioned that I have a daughter.&nbsp; I did not expect that the two of you would meet so soon, but whatever brings her here now likely has bearing on the wizard's concerns."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle did not attempt to defend herself further.&nbsp; Ultimately, he would believe what he would - she could, perhaps, only be grateful that hers was not the only word against that of Lucius'.&nbsp; How much weight the word of a half-succubus added to that of a full-succubus, she did not know, but she would guess it was not much.&nbsp; It was part of the price of what she was, and her nature.<br><br>Whatever came of that, they needed to know what they faced.&nbsp; Valerian had seemed to think that the matter was well-enough in hand for the night, but as intelligent as they were, wizards were not infallible.&nbsp; Vanity was not limited to beauty alone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>19-12-2014, 11:38:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Both Duncan and Lucius went silent as Lady Alerian threw back to the coverlet, and stood up naked from the bed, seeking her gown. Lucius grew more tense, recognizing that body as the one that he had enjoyed not but a couple hours ago. Meanwhile, Duncan stared silently, his mind working through all that had been said.<br><br>Lady Alerian addressed Duncan first, explaining that she didn't bother with 'smaller meals' while awaiting the main course, essentially. And then she reminded him of their agreement. But a small part of Duncan – however small it was – wondered if she had lost patience earlier and followed her urges... <br><br>Then Mercy was speaking – and clarifying that Lucius had not arrived in time. Lucius, of course, glanced between her, Lady Alerian and Duncan. “But... he's alright. He's -safe-. I thought you said Lady Alerian would be feeding at the point of...,” Lucius trailed off, then glanced at Duncan. “Unless... Unless, like me, he held out?” <br><br>Lucius smirked. “Good man, Duncan,” <br><br>But then Mercy was speaking again. Duncan looked at the strange woman – attractive, bold, just the kind of woman Lucius would enjoy. But what was she doing -here-? Had she truly witnessed everything that had happened? Would it be their word against Jazelle's? Duncan truly could not conceive of Jazelle doing this, not so.. so -quickly-. <br><br>Mercy's words were playfully admonishing Lucius, at least that's how Duncan took them. Of course, Lucius didn't see it that way. Why was Mercy suddenly working -against- him? He glanced over at the woman, watching her closely, trying to understand her angle in all this. And then she had to remind him of his prized painting.<br><br>He winced noticeably at the mention of it.<br><br>Then Mercy was reminding him that the succubus he had dispatched was -gone-... not just run off to another location across the keep. She was right... why would the succubus fly here and directly into Duncan's arms? Unless, of course, she was seeking -shelter-...<br><br>“Perhaps she fled here,” Lucius said, pointing his blade still in Lady Alerian's direction. “Look with your own eyes, woman,” he said, speaking to Mercy. “Do you not see what I see? That is the woman who took me from the tavern, took me to my bed, and rode me like a stallion... for quite some time, I might add,” he said, casting a glance towards Duncan, not realizing at all the knots that the general's stomach had been twisted into. “Perhaps this one was able to come here to lick her wounds behind the protections of the second most powerful man in the kingdom. Or perhaps your spell failed, only -appearing- to have done its work,” he said. <br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>His response was a lively yet gentle rebuttal. Neither he nor Duncan understood how all of 'this' worked. Neither were summoners or wizards, obviously, and like most men, they believed what their eyes saw.<br><br>Mercy countered, explaining that even if her estimations were not accurate, she didn't think Lady Alerian was the demoness in question... mainly, she said, because she was -acquainted- with Lady Alerian, personally.<br><br>Both men turned their eyes toward Mercy, then. And both men let their eyes widen when Mercy addressed Lady Alerian as 'mother'.<br><br>“Mother?” Lucius asked, confused, his gaze bouncing now between both women.<br><br>“Mother?” Duncan asked, his eyes turning to Lady Alerian exclusively.<br><br>Lady Alerian responded, using the woman's name in a familiar way. Neither male could speak, still working it all out in their head. <br><br>Lucius began to wonder if this had all been a grand trick – had Mercy used him to get to the General? Was this all a plot?<br><br>Duncan remembered Jazelle's recent mention of a daughter – and her she was, in the flesh. It was odd... Mercy looked to be his age, or thereabouts... For some reason, Duncan had imagined a daughter of Jazelle would look much... younger.<br><br>Mercy reminded Lucius that she had claimed to trust one person in the keep – and she was standing before her now. In turn, Lady Alerian reminded Duncan about her confession of having a daughter, which he had just been remembering already. <br><br>Slowly, without another word, Duncan walked over to the main door and shut it, securing it as well. The four of them would have privacy, at least, while they discussed this.<br><br>“So let me get this straight,” Lucius said, still armed and ready for combat. “You're Lady Alerian from the Southlands, and... you're NOT a demon? Or you are, and this,” Lucius said, waving his blade once in Mercy's direction, “Is your spawn...?” <br><br>Duncan sighed. “Lucius,” he said. “Put the blade away.”<br><br>“But-...”<br><br>“Now,” Duncan interrupted.<br><br>Slowly, Lucius lowered the blade and sheathed it at his hip. Duncan let out a sigh of relief as Lucius's mind worked quickly to figure things out, to put the pieces together, expecting Lady Alerian to go nuts any moment and attack them now that her secret was exposed. But she did no such thing, and Lucius's gaze took turns glancing at the other three occupants of the room.<br><br>“So, I have two questions... IS Lady Alerian a demon, or not?”<br><br>Duncan glanced over to Jazelle, not sure what to say. He didn't feel it was his place to reveal her true nature to anyone. Without answering the question, Duncan called out to him.<br><br>“What is your second question?” he asked.<br><br>Lucius glanced back at Duncan for a moment, then moved his eyes to Mercy. “Is this the part where we all get naked?”<br><br>Duncan face-palmed into his hand.<br><br>“No, I am serious,” Lucius said. “Last time I saw -her-, she was buck-naked and bare,” he said, pointing at Lady Alerian with a finger this time, instead of a sword. “And her...,” he continued, pointing a thumb at Mercy while his eyes focused on Duncan. “Well, I'd just like to see her naked.”<br><br>Duncan shook his head, glancing over to Jazelle for a little help. “Why don't you tell us from the start what exactly happened, Lucius. Try to remember exactly what was said, that sort of thing...”<br><br>And with that, Lucius told -his- version of the story from the moment Lady Alerian had showed up at the tavern, all the way to the point where they were all standing now. At the end of his tale, Duncan took in a long, steadying breath... then moved towards Mercy, his hand extended.<br><br>“Well-met, Mercy,” he said politely, offering her his hand in a token of kindness.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>19-12-2014, 15:14:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em>"Interesting customs they have here,"</em> Mercy remarked to her mother as she found a chair and perched on the arm of it uninvited.&nbsp; <em>"Is it typical for mothers and daughters to entertain their lovers together? Are they related, too?"</em><br><br>Mercy had been following the conversation like an observer at team fencing match, her gaze bouncing from one to the other with equal parts of interest.&nbsp; <em>"You can get naked if you want, Lucius.&nbsp; &nbsp;I've seen you that way before ... up close ... and a second look wouldn't be all that bad.&nbsp; It rather sounds like your general has already had the pleasure, and I trust Mother wouldn't mind, would you, Mother?"</em><br><br>Jazelle's expression took on an almost identical cast as Duncan's had when he had attempted to rein in Lucius, but eventually an accounting of the evening's events emerged.<br><br>Mother and daughter listened to Lucius' version, with Mercy chiming in to add a clarification or rein in a few of Lucius' wilder claims, but eventually most of the facts were laid out without too much embellishment or areas of disagreement.<br><br><em>"General," </em> Mercy acknowledged with an inclination of her head and a small smile as she took his hand and held it. <em> "You are much more polite than your second-in-command -- he greeted me by slamming me up against his wall."</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;She gave Lucius a reproving glance from the corner of her eyes.<br><br><em>"Mercy ..."<br></em><br>The priestess merely grinned without remorse, and stood.&nbsp; Without fanfare, she began undoing the fastenings of the priest's robes she wore, as if she were taking Lucius up on his suggestion that they all get naked.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle shook her head and sighed, but didn't protest ... and her clothes stayed where they were.&nbsp; It didn't take long before Mercy shimmied herself out of the robes, letting them fall to a heap at her feet which she then stepped out of, revealing a much simpler, and skin-tight outfit beneath -- black leather pants, boots, a tightly cinched vest of leather atop a blood-red silk shirt -- that did not leave much to the imagination at least in regard to the basic hourglass shape of the form beneath.<br><br><em>"Dreadful clothes ... and to think they wear them as a badge of honor." </em> Mercy resumed her seat on the chair's arm, crossing her legs as she gave Lucius another little smirk.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><em>"Mercy ... have I your leave to speak freely?&nbsp; I trust Duncan, and I trust his judgement in Lucius that he will give fair hearing." </em> Jazelle, for her part, was willing to do what she could to explain things, but it was not her place to decide such things for her daughter.&nbsp; And if she left the retelling to Mercy, it would take all night.&nbsp; Her daughter had an unfortunate tendency to pick up certain aspects of the behavior of men who interested her, at least until her own nature reasserted itself with confidence or boredom, and Jazelle didn't need to draw upon their bond to draw her own conclusions.<br><em><br>"Of course, Mother.&nbsp; I prefer men who are strong enough to handle the truth -- you know that."&nbsp; &nbsp; </em>Mercy cast a brief glance her mother's way, but it was to Lucius that her eyes went immediately after, holding a hint of challenge in their depths.<br><br><em>"Lucius, I do apologize for deceiving you.&nbsp; My name is not 'Lady Alerian', though I am here with your king's knowledge and permission.&nbsp; &nbsp;I should not have invited your attentions as I did, but when last I saw your general, he and I were engaged in something of a competition, and our understanding of the nature of the rules was not aligned.&nbsp; When I saw him in the company of the other ladies, I mistook it for simply another round in the game we played."</em><br><br>There was not a lot of true remorse in the succubus' explanation.&nbsp; She doubted quite seriously that she had engaged Lucius' feelings in more than a momentary lust, and from the way he looked at Mercy, he had certainly recovered with barely a flinch.<br><br><em>"I have known Valerian, the king's wizard, for some years.&nbsp; We have worked together in the past, and some time ago he summoned me to consult on a matter of concern, a matter in which I have some manner of expertise.&nbsp; &nbsp;I aided him with that, and in another matter that led to my introduction to your king, and then to Duncan.&nbsp; Of that, he may tell you as much or as little as he wishes.</em><br><br><em>"The general and I had resolved somewhat of our misunderstanding when word came about the attack on the armory and he was called away.&nbsp; While he was gone, I conferred with Valerian, who told me that a Balor ... a powerful demon ... had invaded the keep, but had departed.&nbsp; He did not mention any lesser demons, but whether he did not know or simply assumed that it was not of import, I do not know.&nbsp; He asked that we ... Duncan and I ... come to his chambers in the morning."<br></em><br><em>"Other than Valerian, Duncan, I have seen noone in the time between your departure and your return.&nbsp; I keep my bargains ... all of them ... not out of any sense of altruism or higher purpose, you understand, but because my freedom depends upon it." </em> She turned her eyes to Duncan's and held them there in a long, level look, but with no real ire.&nbsp; To any with experience with demons, perhaps only a fool would believe anything she said at all.<br><br><em>"Don't listen to her.&nbsp; Mother was born to be a monk ... well, if you discount the whole chastity thing, obviously.&nbsp; That would never work."<br></em><br><em>"Mercy ..."</em><br><em><br>"It's true, Mother.&nbsp; You just don't want to admit it.&nbsp; That doesn't make it any less true."</em><br><br><em>"In any event, Lucius, to answer your question .. I <strong>am</strong> a demon."</em><br><br><em>"A demon no longer of the abyss ... a demon that cannot be banished ... a demon who can enter the holiest of sanctums without writhing in agony ... in short, a demon who is not a demon.&nbsp; If that makes you feel any better."</em><br><br><em>"And Mercy is ... my daughter, though her father was human."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle simply ignored her daughter's defense, hoping that it would make things go quicker if she didn't encourage it, though she couldn't deny that she felt something of warmth from the sentiment.<br><em><br>"Spawn.&nbsp; Yes, that would be me."</em>&nbsp; Mercy's grin, however, was unrepentant, and devoid of anger or blame as she swung one crossed leg to and fro.<br><em><br>"And also a priestess, though not of the sect whose robes&nbsp; she has borrowed, unless there is something you have yet to tell me?"<br></em><br><em>"Me?&nbsp; A priest of the Lady?&nbsp; No, Mother, I have not yet taken complete leave of my senses.&nbsp; &nbsp;I'm afraid the whole sentence of execution handed down without so much as a trial thing still leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.&nbsp; But they are why I'm here.&nbsp; &nbsp;If you want to know who is stupid enough to summon a bad-ass nasty demon into this plane and let it loose, you should probably start there.&nbsp; The Lady's devoted servants ... have been naughty-naughty."</em><br><br>Mercy's voice had taken on a sing-song quality for the last words, but once she had uttered them, she looked from her mother to Duncan and then finally to Lucius where her gaze remained.<br><br><em>"That clear everything up for anybody?&nbsp; Or are you more confused than you were before?&nbsp; Or should we just skip the explanations and questions and all get naked?"</em><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>20-12-2014, 06:28:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Duncan cast a blank look over to Mercy in response to her comments about mothers and daughters entertaining their lovers together. Lucius simple grinned slightly – obviously not against the idea. He rather enjoyed watching other women being pleasured, and to do so while pleasuring his own? Not a 'terrible' experience by any measure. And if that meant he would get to-....<br><br>“We can skip Lucius's stripping his clothes off – again,” Duncan interjected gently. “I think there are more important matters to tend to at the moment, regardless.”<br><br>Lucius cast a glance back towards Duncan, an icy, 'Come on!' look that, any other time, he may have even considered. Perhaps he was too old for that now, though, but given the current state of events, it wasn't something Duncan would seriously entertain, while Lucius would be fine with rutting in the midst of a castle raid, if he had the opportunity. In fact, Duncan wouldn't be surprised if he -had- such experience in the past.<br><br>“A second look wouldn't be all that -bad-?” Lucius raised a brow, giving Mercy a closer look. Hmmm, maybe this priestess had seen more men naked than he gave her credit for, and perhaps she had seen finer specimens than himself...<br><br>...Nawwwww. Not likely. She was probably barely containing herself, and Lucius was fine with that thought. But, he did finally relax enough to begin recounting his tale, -exactly- how it transpired... well, at least from -his- angle. Mercy butt in a few times to make 'corrections', or as Lucius would say, to 'throw water' on his words. <br><br>When done, Mercy accepted the general's introduction. Duncan was torn – bow and kiss her hand formally? Or shake it like he would with another gentleman? In the end, he elected something in between – a slight bow towards her, a shake of her hand, no kissing. Her compliment to him caused him to raise a brow as, off to the side, Lucius snorted softly. “She liked it,” he claimed, though he wasn't necessarily sure of that. She sure hadn't protested, though, and both he and Duncan knew of several women who rather enjoyed being pushed up against a wall...<br><br>In the end, though, the tale was recounted, Duncan's eyes moving immediately to Jazelle to await her thoughts. Duncan knew that despite Lucius's bravado, his second in command had been in grave danger, whether he wanted to admit it or not. At Jazelle's utterance of her daughter's name, Mercy rose with a grin – and began to remove her clothing.<br><br>“Hmmm,” Lucius said, turning his attention fully to Mercy with a curious look on his face, while Duncan, to the contrary, averted his gaze, not entirely sure that this was the proper actions of a priestess, much less the daughter of his lover.<br><br>Was that what Jazelle was to him, then? His lover? They had made love – once – and there had been hopes of an encore. But... what did -she- think of that? How did she view -him-, he wondered? As a&nbsp; toy? A play-thing? Her latest conquest?<br><br>Lucius only looked -mildly- disappointed when Mercy's clothing removal stopped at the leathers she wore, shirt and vest. “Hmph,” he muttered to himself, “Not -bad-,” he added, his eyes roaming Mercy from head to toe... several times. And after the few words Mercy directed to her mother about men who could handle the truth, Lucius met Mercy's challenging gaze with one of his own.<br><br>Jazelle then began to speak, and after a lingering gaze into Mercy's eyes (my, she did have pretty eyes, he had to admit), Lucius reluctantly tore his gaze from her to look over at Jazelle as she went about explaining the situation in more detail. He listened closely as she confessed a relationship of some sort with the King, and even the Wizard, old man Valerian. Damn, this woman sure did get around, Lucius thought! Yet he hadn't been fortunate enough to sample her, except that he did... but... -not- her, but just a doppleganger of her...<br><br>This was getting more confusing than he imagined.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>When she was done addressing Lucius, 'Lady Alerian' who -wasn't- Lady Alerian turned her attention to Duncan and explained who she had seen since he had left his chambers earlier that evening. She mentioned something about bargains and freedom, which went above Lucius's head, though Duncan got the gist of her words. Lucius turned his gaze to Duncan, to see his general and friend react if at all – but he didn't. Duncan stood stoically, staring back at the woman who was not Lady Alerian.<br><br>Mercy butt in again, calling her mother a monk – but a very unchaste one. The lady that wasn't Lady Alerian moved on – and casually mentioned that -she- was a demon.<br><br>Lucius smiled, even chuckled a little bit. “Did you hear that? She said SHE is a demon,” he said, then glanced at Mercy and Duncan both, noting very plainly that neither of them were laughing. It was one of those moments where he felt like the only person in the room who didn't get the joke – or in this case, the only person in the room who -did-.<br><br>His face whipped back around to look at her, his hand straying to the pommel of his sword in its scabbard at his hip. He was keenly aware, then, that he was outnumbered, effectively, three to one by a demon, her spawn, and the general – who Lucius knew to be one of the few men in the realms better than he with a sword. <br><br>Mercy clarified quickly, adding in the bit about her mother -not- being a demon of the abyss, but rather a demon who was not a demon... which, didn't make a whole bunch of sense to him. She reiterated that Mercy was indeed her daughter, and Mercy acknowledged it openly. Did that make her a demon as well? Though the Non-Alerian woman claimed that the father was human, would that make her some sort of infernal half-breed?<br><br>Both men remained silent as Mercy spoke about the Lady, demons, and priests who have been naughty-naughty. And while she did it, she seemed almost pleased at the notion, which was not missed by either man. She asked if that cleared things up, or if they were more confused – and then suggested that they all get naked together.<br><br>“Well, if -that- is how you want to-...,” Lucius began, turning his gaze back to Mercy at the suggestion.<br><br>“Lucius,” Duncan's voice spoke, cutting Lucius off immediately with that tone Lucius knew better than to argue against. Duncan's second simply went silent, but did not take his eyes off Mercy as Duncan spoke to all gathered in the room.<br><br>“Her name is Jazelle. She -is- a demon, Lucius, just as she has said. But she has proven herself to me, and having ample opportunities to kill me, she hasn't. I've become rather... attached to her...”<br><br>“Which is what -all- of her victims in the past have likely said,” Lucius piped-up, turning his gaze now to Jazelle. “They were -all- likely 'attached', weren't they?”<br><br>“That doesn't matter now,” Duncan quickly replied, his voice a bit sharper. Lucius whirled on him, and walked toward him, eyes wide.<br><br>“Duncan... she's a demon. Everything we've been taught about them says that they will -always- turn on you. That she will rip your heart out – literally, and figuratively. Duncan, I know that you've had... trouble... finding a proper woman ever since-...”<br><br>“THAT is NOT the point,” Duncan cut him off, firmly, again. “I willingly have chosen to be in her company. She has not cast a spell on me. Valerian can confirm this if it would make you feel better.”<br><br>“Duncan,” Lucius said, softly, so soft that the two women might have to strain to hear it. “There are other women here... you do not have to resort to-....”<br><br>“There is only one Jazelle,” he said bluntly.<br><br>Lucius nodded, then turned to face Jazelle, and glanced at Mercy in turn. “Alright, then... you're demon and demon-spawn. So, with all that you've said in mind, what do you believe would be our next move?”<br><br>The board had changed, and so had the pieces, and Lucius was keenly aware of that. He knew he couldn't completely trust Duncan now, not until Valerian could indeed verify that she did not have some sort of mystical hold on Duncan, like a puppeteer pulling on a puppet's strings.&nbsp; Until then, he would keep a close eye on all three of them, and hope for the best. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-12-2014, 18:14:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Duncan's admission that he had willingly chosen her company, and that there was only one 'her' went a long way toward easing the sting of his doubt in Jazelle's mind.&nbsp; Mercy was more open with her approval of the sentiment, lifting her brown and widening her eyes as she cocked her head toward the general.<br><br><em>"Aren't generals usually older?&nbsp; With gray hair and beards and faces that look like they'd crack if they smiled in some way other than compressing their lips?&nbsp; This one seems pretty smart, too, though that's hardly a surprise."</em><br><br><em>"Must you?"</em><br><br><em>"Why, yes, I do think I must.&nbsp; &nbsp;What is this bargain that you and he have struck?&nbsp; It sounds somehow more like the kind of thing you're usually giving me one of those motherly reproving looks about doing.&nbsp; &nbsp;And if your bargain with him changes things, then shouldn't I know about it just so I don't inadvertently step on toes? Or anything else?"</em><br><br><em>"Not now, daughter."&nbsp; </em>Jazelle's tone was very similar to the one Duncan used to shut Lucius up, and it proved as effective, at least in the short term.<br><br><em>"Do you have any idea why the succubus chose Lucius?&nbsp; Was he simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was it directed?"&nbsp; </em>Jazelle addressed the question to her daughter, attempting to keep the topic on the subject at hand and off other matters.&nbsp; Mercy and Lucius seemed to have bonded already, each of them encouraging the other ... an experience that Jazelle found rather exasperating given the fact that her own situation was still somewhat precarious.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em>"Directed, I'd say." </em> Mercy's response was quick and certain, and she gave Lucius a considering look.&nbsp; <em>"Unless Lucius was coming out of the tavern just at that time?&nbsp; No?&nbsp; Then definitely directed.&nbsp; She made a bee-line for the tavern, spotted her target and collected enough of his surface lusts ... you apparently made quite an impression, Mother ... to know what would tempt him, and lured him back to his quarters."<br></em><br><em>"Do you know why she selected him?"<br></em><br>Mercy didn't say anything to that for a moment, though she turned a bit to study Lucius more fully. <em> "His reputation?&nbsp; Nice arms, decent ass, pretty hair?"&nbsp; Plus he has a decent sword ... two of them, actually.<br></em><br><em>"Mercy ..."<br></em><br><em>"Oh, all right.&nbsp; I don't KNOW this for a fact, but I suspect that the demon may be looking for the same thing I am ... a few months ago, someone from this area made some inquiries about selling an artifact to certain collectors.&nbsp; The artifact he was offering is one that has been of interest to me since I first learned of it -- it was taken by the church a couple hundred or so years ago when they burned a wizard for consorting with demons.&nbsp; It was seized and ordered destroyed, but apparently there was one of those little clerical errors that seem to creep in when sense and profit collide.&nbsp; The trail led back to some of the priests here - a lovely little sect that seems to have split off from The Lady's teaching in some particularly nasty ways.&nbsp; I'd found a few old records suggesting some possibilities, and I was working my way inward when I overheard a couple of the priests talking about a summoned demon loose in the keep ... so I ... used my senses to take a look around.&nbsp; Imagine my surprise when I found that you were here!&nbsp; &nbsp;And then I zoned in on the she-bitch.&nbsp; I figured that maybe she was looking for the same thing, so ..."</em><br><em><br>"What is it that you're looking for?"</em><br><br>Mercy gave her mother a mutinous look, then glanced over at Duncan and the Lucius, and then she sighed in surrender.&nbsp; She supposed she did owe her mother a few times over, and as much as she'd like to possess what she'd come looking for, it was more important to make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands -- unless, of course, that was what Phaenix directed.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did not have the capacity to see the big picture the way He could, and sometimes his direction was clear only in hindsight.<br><br><em>"The item is a simple rod, disguised in a wooden frame of some sort.&nbsp; It ... from my understanding ... circumvents the connection to the lower plane to a summoned creature, somewhat like a summoning circle.&nbsp; &nbsp;The rod, reportedly, renders Divine magic, banishment, abjuration, exorcism, that sort of thing, all but ineffective.&nbsp; &nbsp;In other words, Lucius, if your ladyfriend had gotten it before you sliced thru her wings with my spell upon your sword, she might well have just taken your blade from you and carved her initials in your flesh instead of toddling off back to the abyss.&nbsp; The mage who created it was, apparently, rather gleefully tortured for a few weeks before they burned him at the stake.&nbsp; If his creation hadn't at least been somewhat effective, they probably would have tortured him into a public change of heart and sentenced him to a lifetime of contrition -- they seem to think that sort of thing leaves a better image for the sheeple."<br></em><br><em>"That might explain the attack on the armory - but it doesn't explain why they'd go after Lucius."</em><br><br><em>"Well, it might, if you knew the name of the crispy mage -- Frenier von Straad.&nbsp; Maybe they think he has it, or has some knowledge passed down that might help him find it. I hadn't gotten that far in my investigation, but if I'd found a possible descendant of the mage here, I would've checked him out." </em>&nbsp; Mercy shrugged, and gave Lucius another little smile. <em> "I told you your family name was one that had garnered distinction."</em><br><br><em>"I'd have used a little more subtlety, and a little less permanence, but it wouldn't be a bad strategy.&nbsp; Of course, I could be on a wild goose chase, and the rumors of some bad mojo is just that ... some priest with an empty wrack looking to entrap some curious slob with an interest in such dark magic so they can maneuver themselves one more rung up the ladder ... except instead of some summoner wanna-be, they attract a different sort of attention."</em><br><br><em>"Then, unless Lucius has something he'd like to tell us, I suppose that our next step is to go see Valerian.&nbsp; If a Balor did have something like you describe, I'd have expected a lot more carnage ... unless ... if ... maybe ... perhaps.&nbsp; With no more information than we currently have, speculation isn't very productive."</em><br><em><br>"Now?"<br></em><br><em>"That is Duncan's decision.&nbsp; But ... I would not advise it.&nbsp; I doubt that Valerian specified 'morning' for the meeting in order to facilitate any resolution of misunderstandings.&nbsp; If he is engaged in some casting or preparation, an interruption could be costly in both time and good will."</em><br><br>While she spoke, Jazelle leaned over and picked up Mercy's discarded robes and shook them out, and folded them neatly before laying them on the side of the bed - actions familiar to almost any mother with a teenage daughter -- even one that looked at least as old as anyone in the room.<br><br><em>"This is why I prefer warriors, Mother.&nbsp; They can do their preparation any time, and when they start getting good at what they do, they need even less of a warm up instead of more.&nbsp; Is that the case with your general?&nbsp; I suspect it is with Lucius, but I haven't really had the opportunity to find out."</em><br><br>Jazelle did not roll her eyes, but her expression seemed to suggest it with little more than a movement of her jaw and a hesitation in her breathing, before she moved over to Duncan's side and lightly laid her hand on his arm.<br><em><br>"This is not the way I had hoped to spend the evening, Duncan.&nbsp; I would that it were otherwise, but it would likely be beneficial for the four of us to remain together until we speak with Valerian -- both to ease Lucius' doubt and your own, and because, should there be reason to suspect another intrusion, both Mercy and I can seek out the presence of my kind, now that we know to be on alert."</em><br><br><em>"Not exactly the way I'd planned to spend my evening either, but at least you're better company than than robed fanatics cackling and wringing their hands.&nbsp; A monarch who uses torture is reviled as a tyrant, but when priests do it, they're vigilant guardians of the soul.&nbsp; Sounds like a crock to me.&nbsp; &nbsp;But I do see one difficulty in this little arrangement, Mother.&nbsp; There's only <strong>one</strong> bed ..."</em><br><br>Mercy gave Jazelle an exaggerated look of innocence, and then laughed delightedly, soft and low as her mother glared.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>20-12-2014, 19:48:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Duncan turned an upraised brow towards Mercy when she began to describe what – in her mind – generals should look like. She even complimented his intelligence, though Duncan was not entirely sure that the woman – no, the half-fiend – was being truthful, or sarcastic.<br><br>Lucius just chuckled openly.<br><br>Then Mercy was asking about a 'bargain', and Lucius grew serious – and curious – as well. Lucius was well aware of the legends and tales of demonic possession and bargains struck. Had Duncan been so stupid as to strike such a bargain with this Jazelle? Was his friend and general so desperate for female companionship that he would risk such a thing?<br><br>Jazelle was good at one thing, though, and that was redirecting her daughter towards a new line of thinking – changing the subject to the matter at hand. There was discussion between the two women about whether or not the succubus in question had chosen Lucius specifically, or at random. His and Duncan's eyes moved back and forth between the two women as they spoke. Lucius shook his head 'no' when Mercy suggested he just so happened to be coming out of the tavern randomly.<br><br>“She arrived at the tavern I often frequent – disguised as Lady Alerian – and had one of the other patrons summon me to the entrance to speak to her. I did not think it was strange, since someone of Lady Alerian's caliber would likely not be caught dead in the tavern I was at,” he said – glancing accusingly over at Jazelle, then remembering that it wasn't -this- 'Lady Alerian' he had met, but another just-as-fake Lady Alerian. Only then did Lucius begin to wonder if Lady Alerian truly existed in the Southlands at all.<br><br>At Mercy's list of possible reasons he was 'chosen', Lucius puffed out his chest with a faint smile. “Well, improper as that might sound, it IS possible that she was... hey, wait a minute, 'decent' ass? 'DECENT' swords? I'll have you know, I tend to my swords quite well, thank you, taking the utmost care of them,” he said, giving Mercy a slightly indignant look as Jazelle gently said the younger woman's name to get her back on track.<br><br>Mercy then went on to describe the artifact that she – and this other succubus – had been looking for. Duncan and Lucius listened closely, completely enthralled with the story, especially because it sounded particularly dastardly, especially if the Priesthood was involved.<br><br>Mirroring the thoughts of the two men, Jazelle asked for specifics about the item itself. All three of them listened intently as Mercy went on to describe precisely what this artifact was claimed to be able to do. Duncan and Lucius both imagined some great power from the lower hells using this item to walk -freely- around the land. What would stop them from wreaking untold havoc upon the countryside? <br><br>But the -real- kicker came when Mercy explained -who- had created the device – and Duncan turned his eyes on Lucius at the mention of Frenier Von Straad. Lucius in turn, glanced around to the other three with a blank look on his face.<br><br>“I know that name,” he said. “A relative that the rest of us try to pretend wasn't really related to us. Well before my time, perhaps, but the stories of him were passed down, not stories of glory and pride, but warnings of what pride and ambition could turn a man – or woman – into,” he said. “But I know nothing of the item which you seek. I've been told that Frenier's holdings were all burned to cleanse the land of his taint, and that he was burned at the stake for consorting with demons,” he said, and then it was his turn to turn his gaze toward Duncan. His friend and general had to realize the perils of dealing with Jazelle...<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>“Sounds like we need to seek Valerian afterall – in the morning, when he indicated he would be expecting us,” Duncan said gravely. “I concur with Jazelle – possibly interrupting him during preparations or spellcasting or... whatever it is he does... could have catastrophic results.”<br><br>Lucius nodded in agreement but said nothing else at the moment. The plan provided certainly sounded like the most prudent course of action.<br><br>Mercy went on to explain her preference for warriors, and Duncan couldn't help but glance Jazelle's way. Had Jazelle's dealings with the wizard been more than... professional? Was that what Mercy was hinting at? Lucius, meanwhile, simply watch with interest as Jazelle, like any sweet mother, picked up Mercy's clothing that the younger woman had casually tossed aside like litter, at least until Mercy mentioned something about 'preparation time' and needing less 'warm-up' instead of more. <br><br>“Well, Mercy, I can promise you that Duncan and I both are quite able and ready to-...”<br><br>“Lucius,” Duncan's voice cut in, and this time Lucius gave his friend and general a look of indignation. <br><br>“What? Duncan, come on – you can't let challenges like that go unanswered, or they'll start to think -things-,” he warned Duncan playfully. “Untrue things, especially when showing them the truth would be so easy... and so enjoyable for everyone involved.”<br><br>Duncan felt a touch on his arm, turning his head to see Jazelle standing next to him. His other hand rose and moved to cover her hand that touched him – not to stop her, but to simply return the gentle touch likewise. His eyes moved up to meet hers as she explained that the evening had not gone 'as planned', and he nodded in total agreement. They had enjoyed each other for the first time, and... it had been every bit as memorable as he thought it would be. The encore, or 'dessert' as he liked to think of it... would have to wait.<br><br>“No, it is not doubt on my part,” Duncan said, casting a quick glance in Lucius's direction. “But your words are wise for many reasons. Remaining together for safety-sake, and for the simple fact that it makes communication easier, is a good call. We can react as one, as a&nbsp; unit, and seek out the source of intrusion if there is another before morning.”<br><br>Lucius couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in his gut. Were the puppet strings already being pulled? His eyes watched closely for any sign that Duncan was simply heeding Jazelle's wishes – though he had to admit, Jazelle's assessment -did- sound reasonable. Besides, if it meant remaining in the company of Mercy a bit longer, Lucius felt that he could certainly 'endure' that a bit longer.<br><br>Then Mercy spoke, making her observation about there only being a single bed.<br><br>Lucius shrugged. “We're adults here, right? Well... except....,” his glance looked doubtfully – though playfully – in Mercy's direction. “If so, then there's no reason that the four of us can't... share the general's bed. It's large enough to hold&nbsp; at least six, spoke from personal exp-...”<br><br>“Lucius!” Duncan snapped. <br><br>“Oh, sorry,” Lucius said, smiling, his voice obviously indicating he wasn't sorry at all. “Anyway, I am sure we can ALL be on our very best behavior, yes? As long as Mercy has permission from her mama to join us?” he added, narrowing his eyes slightly as he continued to look in Mercy's direction, tossing playful words her way.<br><br>Duncan barely resisted the urge to facepalm again. This was no time for the type of games Lucius hinted at. Besides, for the first time in a -very- long time, Duncan had no interest in sharing the woman of his attention and affections. Selfish as it might sound to some, he desired Jazelle for himself, and quietly he hoped that she felt the same way in return.. though Lucius's estimation had been accurate. The bed -was- truly enormous, with ample room for them all...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-12-2014, 23:13:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Jazelle glanced over toward Lucius when he made a reference to her age, and then toward Mercy.&nbsp; Her daughter again widened her eyes, as if daring Jazelle to remember her age.&nbsp; Such things did not mean the same things to her as they did to others.&nbsp; Her daughter was not ageless as she was, but she did have certain alternatives available to her ... whether she used them or not, Jazelle didn't know, but she suspected that she did.&nbsp; &nbsp;The succubus saw nothing inherently wrong with those avenues, but Duncan and Lucius very well might, so she simply chose not to mention it.&nbsp; <em> "We are all adults, even if some of us are not always inclined to act their age,"</em> Jazelle confirmed. <br><br>Then she sighed.&nbsp; <em>"As much as it pains me to suggest this, it would make sense to keep watch in shifts.&nbsp; It would be logical to have Mercy or I alert at all times, since we can use our awareness at intervals to detect other intrusion." </em> They also needed less sleep, though given her limitations imposed by her bargain, she too would need rest.&nbsp; The divisions of the watch were evident to her, since she doubted that Lucius would want to sleep in the same bed with her, even with his bravado regarding them all sharing.&nbsp; &nbsp; The wisdom of putting Mercy and Lucius in the same bed was also questionable, given that someone was likely to get hurt if Mercy's behavior continued to encourage Lucius'.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em>"Sounds good to me - I'll stand watch with Lucius.&nbsp; Don't even suggest the other way.&nbsp; I don't care what polyamorous customs are practiced here, I'm not sleeping with my mother's lover.&nbsp; &nbsp;That's just .... ewwww.&nbsp; No offense intended, Duncan -- given what I zoned in on when I checked to see where Mother was in relation to where we were heading, I might actually be a little envious.&nbsp; &nbsp;And I do plan on trying out Lucius' sword at some point anyway -- he's already offered a demonstration, so ..."<br></em><br><em>"Have you ever been dematerialized and then rematerialized inside a stone wall, daughter?&nbsp; &nbsp;Even if you have, I don't think Lucius has ... but even if he's 'up' for it, having to use a chisel to reach the salient part of him might dampen&nbsp; even his ardor."<br></em><em><br>"And it'd also make him fairly useless should the demon return.&nbsp; Lest ye forget, Mother, you aren't the only one with a bag of tricks."</em>&nbsp; Mercy's tone was light, and without any true resentment or anger.&nbsp; She enjoyed the verbal jousting, and the fact that this reunion, at least, didn't involve the almost certainty of mental and emotional flaying on her end.<br><br>The half-demon gave Jazelle and Duncan a suspicious look.&nbsp; Given her history with her mother, if she wasn't in dire straits ... did it mean that Jazelle was courtesy of this 'bargain' she didn't want to talk about? <br><em><br>"I'll behave, Mother.&nbsp; Mostly, anyway -- if you and the general do the same.&nbsp; Since it looks like you were already in bed when we got here, Lucius and I can take first watch.&nbsp; I don't suppose you've got anything to drink in here, do you, General?&nbsp; Lucius has probably had enough given that he started out in a tavern, but I've been in the vaults at the depths of the keep all day.&nbsp; It's dusty down there, and there are things going on there that make even <strong>my</strong> stomach twist."</em><br><br>Mercy gave Lucius another look, almost daring him to object to her reasonable suggestion.<br><br><em>"While we watch, you can tell me more about how you held the succubus at bay ... or about this personal experience you have with five other individuals in the general's bed.&nbsp; I'm curious ... was this in the nature of a military exercise?"</em><br><br>Jazelle gave up.&nbsp; <em>"A drink would be welcome ... preferably something strong.&nbsp; Mercy, can you set up a ward for the doors?&nbsp; It's probably not necessary, but it seems an opportune precaution."</em><br><br><em>"Easy."&nbsp; </em>She rummaged around in a pocket and came up with a small, worn piece of chalk in short order, and held it up triumphantly.<br><em><br>"Duncan ... Lucius ... does that suit the both of you?"</em>&nbsp; It wasn't ideal, but it would give her time to talk more with Duncan as well ... and the time for more explanations seemed to be at hand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-12-2014, 10:22:12</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius quite easily recognized the look between mother and daughter at the mention of age. That made him curious, of course. Mercy could be -hundreds- of years old, and still considered an 'infant' by her own kind. Or, it was possible Mercy was only four or five years old by normal human standards, but her body simply matures faster. He had no real idea, and he was pretty sure Duncan didn't either. In fact, Duncan was acting as if he didn't know Mercy was as old as she looked, or maybe he just didn't understand - IF Jazelle had warned him ahead of time about her.<br><br>Lucius couldn't help but wonder just how -many- spawn Jazelle had? Or, if Mercy was the only one - why? And who was the father? What made him so special that HIS seed took root and spat forth the dark beauty Lucius glanced over with his eyes? He could -see- it now, of course, upon closer inspection - little hints, as subtle as they were, that she wasn't just a 'normal' human woman. Of course, Lucius doubted that even the wizard would have much knowledge of succubus or demon 'ecology', so it was simply speculation at this point.<br><br>As fun as it was to ponder such things, though, Lucius turned his gaze to Duncan - who was, in turn, gazing towards Jazelle. Lucius could remember only one time before seeing his friend stare at a woman with such... longing, and that one time had almost -broken- him. That woman had been unobtainable, yet still Duncan had pursued, knowing the risks full-well, but hoping for... something. Now, it was as if he had come full circle, his eyes lusting for a creature far more sinister than the woman who had stolen his heart long ago. A succubus, it is said, would do much more than simply steal a man's heart - they'd drain you, your life-force, and often leave you a husk of skin and bone. A terrible death for sure, but -those- were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones would be allowed to live, caught under the spell of the succubus such that every night without her was a -torture-. Lucius had read stories in certain books one found only in certain parts of the realm (where the young and pious were not allowed to roam), and he had read many accounts of men who had tortured themselves while waiting for their 'lost love' to return. The succubus, of course, having taken what she desired, would never come back, leaving the man to a fate -worse- than death. These men, if they did not end their own lives in some grisly fashion, would often starve slowly to death, or go mad.<br><br>These fears and more were weighing heavily upon Lucius's mind. His concern for Duncan - not only the fear of him being under the sway of a creature from the darkest recesses of the abyss, but also his mindset was.. a great concern of his second in command. A succubus was a creature of lust - what will the general do when he finds her sating that lust with another man? Or -several-? What will Duncan do when he realizes a demon can not truly -love- at all, at least not in the way he and his people did?<br><br>It was a lot to take in, for certain, and Lucius wondered just how much of it Duncan, himself had considered BEFORE taking her in his arms.<br><br>Jazelle's comment about acting one's age seemed to be directed at Mercy as well as himself, or so Lucius assumed. Then again, Jazelle might be -thousands- of years old, making the rest of them seem like infants to her in the first place. Next, though, she was suggesting 'watches', something that Lucius and Duncan were familiar with out in the field. But would they need such a thing here? Within the walls of the castle? Thinking back to the she-demon that almost rode him to his doom, yes, Lucius could see where such an idea had merit.<br><br>Mercy chipped in right away, offering to stand watch with Lucius. But of -course- she did! Why wouldn't she want to? But her words quickly suggested that the only reason she mentioned it was because she seemed terrified of sleeping in the same bed as Duncan. Now, THAT was a first! Usually Lucius had to fight Duncan for attention of the beautiful ladies, but apparently not tonight. But before she silenced, Mercy suggested that she definitely planned on 'trying out' Lucius's sword - based on his offer to demonstrate.<br><br>Lucius cast a smile her way with a slow nod, as if to quietly confirm for her that his offer was still open - even though the small logical side of his brain was screaming, 'DEMONSPAWN!' at him loud and clear. He had held off a succubus for quite some time earlier that evening - he should be able to handle a demonic half-breed even more easily, right?<br><br>Jazelle responded with some mumbo-jumbo about walls and stuff, which Lucius didn't think much pertained to him, despite hearing his name. Mercy countered, before she finally promised to behave. Now THAT was a downer, but... these were dangerous times.<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>"I shall behave too, at least as much as your daughter does," Lucius promised, smiling as he nodded to Jazelle. "That weapons demonstration can wait until a more convenient time. Perhaps a time when your beautiful daughter is... better rested," he said.<br><br>Duncan rolled his eyes.<br><br>"And yes, Duncan does indeed have a nice selection of spirits," Lucius continued, "In the other room. If you'd be so kind as to assist me, Mercy, we can prepare drinks for everyone. And -of course- I'd be happy to share with you certain details of how I was 'holding off' the succubus who failed to conquer me, and if you want details about certain exploits mentioned earlier, I'd be delighted to regale you of those specifics as well-..."<br><br>"I was younger, then," Duncan cut in. "Much.... younger," he said, glancing at Jazelle for a moment. "But I am certain Mercy would prefer to hear tales of -your- exploits, Lucius... not mine, or ours..."<br><br>Lucius shrugged, then glanced back at Mercy. "I'll tell her anything she wants to hear, as long as she allows me to give her that sword lesson I promised. It will require much... hands-on training and demonstration."<br><br>There was discussion about wards, and Jazelle asked the two men if that would be acceptable. In the back of Lucius's mind, he wondered for a moment if this was some trick to entrap the two men in these chambers... possibly even transporting them to the depths of hell! But Duncan did not seemed alarmed by the idea at all, as the general was already nodding.<br><br>"Please, Mercy, proceed," he encouraged. Lucius merely watched and nodded silently in agreement, trusting in his general's instincts - even though it COULD be yet another example of Duncan agreeing to whatever the demoness asked for.<br><br>"Lady Mercy? Would you be so kind as to assist me?" Lucius asked, pursuing the idea he had mentioned moments ago, motioning with his arm towards the exit from the bedroom. "You can apply your wards at the entrances to these chambers,while you're at it, if you wish, and I can tell you anything you'd like to hear...," he offered as he slowly made his way towards the door.<br><br>Once the two of them had left, Duncan sighed, and slowly approached Jazelle. It looked to him as though she might have something to say, to tell him, and he was happy to listen. <br><br>"At least the two of them might keep each other busy," Duncan suggested. That would actually be a relief to him in some ways. Sometimes Lucius almost craved attention. Other than that, Duncan said little else as he came to stand in front of Jazelle in Lady Alerian's form, his eyes looking down her body - already missing the -real- Jazelle that he had become so attached to.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-12-2014, 21:22:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Mercy and Lucius' departure from the sleeping area left a welcome lull of quiet, though the two of them continued their banter and flirtation in the next room.&nbsp; "She is not always like this," Jazelle finally said as Duncan came and stood in front of her.&nbsp; <em> "Passionate, driven, and those she champions she does so with all of her, often with no regard for own safety, of body or spirit -- that has always been a constant.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps I erred in leaving her with her father, but I knew nothing of ... nurturing.&nbsp; There was some chance that she need never know of me, of her bloodlines.&nbsp; &nbsp;I watched her grow over the years, from a distance.&nbsp; Had circumstances not interfered ... but when they did, I could not stand by and let her be condemned for a sin not her own.&nbsp; She loves, with equal passion."</em><br><br>Jazelle's blue eyes were grave, her expression worried, though perhaps that was nothing more than a projection of what she had observed that she ought to feel -- or so Duncan might believe.&nbsp; <em>"Her hatred is no less encompassing.&nbsp; Is one emotion tied to the other, different sides of the same coin?"</em><br><br>In some ways, Jazelle's understanding of what it meant to love came from her observation of her daughter, from sharing her pain.<br><br><em>"I am sorry to have caused discord between you and Lucius.&nbsp; That you care for his opinion and his respect is apparent.&nbsp; I did not seek him out, or any other.&nbsp; &nbsp; Even if I had not given my word ... you shine so brightly, my general.&nbsp; Is it so difficult to believe that I would not be tempted from your side by a momentary spark that would be half burnt out by the very act of reaching for it?&nbsp; &nbsp;Your desire for me will fade long before mine for you."</em><br><br>As Jazelle spoke, she had no real expectation of being believed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even to her own ears, it sounded ridiculous.&nbsp; &nbsp;The emotion she had experienced when she saw another attempting to entice Duncan into her arms and bed had been immediate, sharp and angry.&nbsp; And yet, even now that she both knew and believed that Duncan had had no intent to test the strength of her word against the strength of her hunger, she thought she could cheerfully have knocked the other woman across the room for even hoping to have what she, Jazelle, wanted.&nbsp; Now that knew what it meant to have him ... it had not lessened her ire in the slightest.<br><br>It was ... something quite new to the succubus, to feel such.&nbsp; So long as she had what she desired, what did it matter that another did as well, and another and another and another?&nbsp; &nbsp;She thought of Mercy, her daughter, sharing a bed with Duncan, and immediately thrust that thought as far away from her as she could before it could take root.&nbsp; &nbsp;As her daughter had so indelicately put it, the very notion was ... ewwww.&nbsp; And Jazelle had not the slightest idea why she felt that way.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>In the sitting room of Duncan's quarters, Mercy studied the vulnerable points - windows, and the doorway.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unfortunately, she had not been prepared for a siege, but rather to break one, so she did not have the ammunition to cover all three vulnerabilities.&nbsp; She chose to protect the door first, sinking to her knees upon a convenient rug while she quickly sketched out a temporary circle upon the stone with the chalk and requested her god's protection with bowed head.&nbsp; Other than a dark, barely perceptible flash of something akin to the fumes of alcohol igniting close to a candle's blaze, there was no fanfare to her casting, and she rose as soon as she had completed her task and moved over to where Lucius was examining the general's stash of spirits.<br><em><br>"I suppose you won't take my word for it that my mother isn't going to suck the life or soul out of your general ... or that yours is likewise safe from me?&nbsp; I figure that a man who can outlast a full succubus on the hunt is one worth having around ... I've known a few of the pious sort who could call upon faith enough. "</em><br><br><em>"But it didn't sound like you were fighting your desires, but rather mastering them.&nbsp; I find that interesting.&nbsp; &nbsp;I find you interesting -- you have heart under the bravado, and you're serious enough to get the job done but not so serious that you don't know how to have fun.&nbsp; It's a rarer combination than one might think.&nbsp; Give it some thought, anyway ... and while you're pouring those -- make mine a double -- I really do want to know about these exploits you mentioned.&nbsp; Six in the bed?&nbsp; Were the women really that lazy, or were all of you that drunk?"</em><br><br>When they returned to the bedroom to deliver drinks, Mercy completed the second ward.&nbsp; <em>"Weak spot's the balcony, as I can't protect all three.&nbsp; It leaves us with a path of retreat.&nbsp; &nbsp;Sleep well, General ... Mother."</em><br><br>She considered telling her Mother that she and Lucius would behave if they would, but decided instead to keep silent.&nbsp; &nbsp;If things were getting serious between them, it was probably enough of a system shock for her mother that she probably didn't need a steady stream of pushing ... and besides, she had her own fish to fry, so to speak.&nbsp; Lucius was interesting in his own right, AND he was a descendant of someone who'd managed to create something that could prove extremely beneficial or extremely dangerous.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were times when serving Phaenix was a difficult sort of thing, because she could not rule out that disaster was not part of his plans.&nbsp; &nbsp;Phaenix's cleansing fire was never promised to be painless.<br><br>She could but hope that was not her god's intent.&nbsp; If it was, it would come to pass no matter her attempts to prevent it.&nbsp; <br><br>For now, she would rather simply focus her attention, and interest, on Lucius.&nbsp; It would certainly pass the time pleasantly until they could speak with the wizard.&nbsp; It seemed that the warrior had faith in the other, but she wondered whether it was true faith or whether he would only believe this Valerian's words if they were what he expected to hear.<br><br>Mercy selected a comfortable position on the small loveseat that faced the unprotected window, and curled up on it after removing her boots and tucking them away to the side.&nbsp; She swirled the dark liquid of the general's booze in the glass' bottom, and warmed it between her palms before taking a long drink.&nbsp; <em>"Mmmmm,"</em> she murmured appreciatively.&nbsp; <em>"Nice.&nbsp; Your general doesn't skimp on the good stuff.&nbsp; &nbsp;I am sorry about your painting, Lucius.&nbsp; I can't replace it, sadly ... but I think I might make an excellent model should you want to hang something more ... personal ... in its place."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>22-12-2014, 09:56:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan listened as Jazelle spoke of Mercy's origins, at least... to some degree. Duncan had his own questions burning in his mind - intensely personal ones, curious ones, but in the end, he did not feel he had a right to ask them. Instead, he nodded and listened, until she finished.<br><br>"She sounds quite... human," he offered with a faint smile. "Championing causes or people other than herself... She also loves, by your own word - these descriptions do not sound like things one might ascribe to a demon," he continued. Hadn't Jazelle even confessed to him early on that she wasn't sure if she was even capable of such feelings? It had been one of his questions during their first 'game' together, and he remembered how her answer had saddened him for some reason, but now he understood why it had.<br><br>Duncan smiled more genuinely when she suggested that she had caused discord between him and Lucius. He listened to her words, and was already shaking his head, at least until her last sentence struck him like a battering ram might strike a castle portcullis.<br><br><em>'Your desire for me will fade long before mine for you...'</em><br><br>He wanted to believe that so -badly-. Hell, he wanted to believe -all- of it. But he knew she had to have -some- sort of agenda, even if it was to please herself with his company for a time. How long - he did not know. She had given her word, and he held that dear to his heart and wanted to believe -that-, as well. But if mortal men often found keeping their word to be difficult, how would she - a demon - fare at such a task? Could he have faith in her? Trust in her? He knew he could trust her to not harm him - as he had explained to Lucius, she had had ample opportunity to do that before. But could he trust her with his most valuable possession?<br><br>If she betrayed him... if she went back on her word... if she were to expose some ulterior motive... he knew very well it would devastate him, far more than any battlefield loss could.<br><br>"You caused no such discord, sweet lady," he said gently, summoning his smile back to his face. "Lucius and I have been friends for many years, since we were both still boys. We've often competed with one another - and that includes... the pursuit of women," he said, his smile looking like that would accompany a fond memory. Then Duncan looked back up to meet her eyes, his look one of a man baring his soul to another. "But I don't want that anymore. There's only one woman I desire in all the realms. She stands before me, and if I could have her and her alone, I'd never need compete with him again."<br><br>"And I believe you. I believe you did not seek out... another," he said, not even wanting to speak of the possibility that she could so callously seek the bed of another man so quickly - though he knew mortal women surely could. "I -choose- to believe you. I -choose- to believe I shine as brightly in your eyes - as you do in mine," he said. "But I can not agree with the last," he said, his voice dipping. "My desire might -never- fade for you, Jazelle. Whether you've bewitched me or not, my desire for you might very well be... eternal."<br><br>He held those words in the air for a long moment, feeling the very weight of them, wondering if he had gone too far, exposed himself too much. For a brief moment he wondered if she were laughing maniacally on the inside, pleased with herself in her easily-won victory. Smiling suddenly, he glanced down at the floor.<br><br>"Of course, as soon as I am... gone... you will move on, your desire for me will fade quickly, and the candle in your heart will be reignited anew," he said. He understood mortality all too well, having been a very close friend of Death, having seen this 'friend' visit the battlefield countless times. One day, sooner or later, he would join them. Jazelle, however, would not. She would live on. And she would need to sate the desires that her very nature forced upon her. <br><br>And she would forget. In time.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius guided Mercy to the sitting room where Lucius knew Duncan kept his spirits. When the woman - the <em>half-demon</em> he reminded himself - began to work her spells, his movements slowed so that he might observe. Not the spells, but -<em>her</em>-. She was incredibly beautiful, that much he could not dispute - nor could any man with vision sharp enough to focus on her. And her attitude reminded him of himself in many ways, perhaps even a bit -too- much. The fact that he desired her was a given: she was beautiful, his type, and not completely annoying. She was also the daughter of a demon that Lucius feared held sway over the general of the entire kingdom, and he knew that should keep him on guard.<br><br>Still, his fantasies went rampant in his mind, imagining the sound of her moans, the look in her eye as he dragged her climax from her body, the feel of her lips upon his body... His fantasies hadn't looked and sounded this delightful in a very long time.<br><br>He could smell and see the result of her work as she finished, rising to her feet and turning to approach him near the ornate wooden cabinet where his friend stashed his best liquor.<br><br>He smirked as he set about retrieving various bottles, glasses and the like from the cabinet, moving with a slow familiarity as if he lived here, himself. "Would -you- take my word for it, if our roles were reversed, lady?" he asked. He knew he -shouldn't-. He knew that everything she - and especially her mother - said should be suspect. Even if Mercy was only a half-breed, there was no telling just how far the mother's influence affected the child. "I want to believe...," he began, paused with a bottle between his hands, and turned his upper body so he could glance back at her. "For -his- sake. Personally - I know I am damned, or so the priests say. I am living on 'borrowed time', so I live life to the fullest. If you and your mother are here for some nefarious intentions, ending with you dragging my soul to the abyss... frankly... I don't care," he shrugged. Then he turned serious eyes and a mirthful smile to look at her again. "But I care about him."<br><br>It was a rare, completely serious moment for Lucius, and it lasted as long as one might expect from someone who disguises intent and feeling with levity.<br><br>"But, I hope you'll at least make it -interesting- before you drag me kicking and screaming to the Bottomless Pits. I wonder... ARE they bottomless, really? I've never really believed the stories," he said, the mirth returning to his eyes.<br><br>He snorted at her observation about him fighting his desires, versus mastering them. "Oh, I learned to 'master' them - as well as any male can - long ago. When your first few lovers mock you for 'fighting' your desires for less than a minute before your 'desires' splatter against their skin - well... that is enough encouragement for some men to seek out ways of... adapting," he said, chuckling softly to himself. "It behooves a man to master them, rather than letting them rule you. Granted, no man is perfect... No, not even me, however crazy that must sound... But in general, a man who is more in control of his desires, is far more likely to be asked - even begged - for an encore, than a man who is not in control. Once I realized this, it was a simple matter of learning proper techniques... and, enjoying a lot of practice," he said, winking at her then turned his body back around to look for a corkscrew.<br><br>"I admit, I am flattered you find me interesting," he said, his back to her now, "And I think it's fairly obvious I find -you- interesting. Granted, you wouldn't last long in bed with me, but... I'm pretty sure you'd depart feeling fairly... satisfied," he said. Arrogant coming from the lips of some men, the slight shrug of Lucius's shoulders seemed to indicate he'd expect her to think such a thing. "And a double it is... I love a lady who can hold her liquor," he said cheerily, as the soft -POP- of a cork could be heard.<br><br>Then he laughed at her interest in 'exploits'. "I have -so- much dirt on the good general, I could make my own mountain, if I wanted to," he chuckled. "Yes, six. It was... an accident, to be completely honest. We each returned here from one of the King's masquerades, each of us with a beauty on our arms. Of course, there's only one bed, and when you combine arousal with necessity, as well as a drink or two... well... we joked about sharing the only bed in these chambers, and both women were fine with that. Truth be told, we were each so involved with our respective partners, we didn't pay much attention to the other pair on the same bed, until there was a knock at the door. You see, we had arranged for -another-pair of ladies to join us at a later time and... well... they were a bit -early-," he chuckled.<br><br>"I sprang to the door, of course, as Duncan was... well... 'vigorously exploring' his partner's depths. When I answered the door, I found our two later-planned rendezvous standing there agape - for I was still nude, you see, and... well... one thing led to another, and... four ladies, two men, one bed....," he sighed dramatically. "The poor girls never really stood a chance. But.. perhaps I have said too much already. However," he turned around for a moment, his eyes settling on hers. "I could actually -show- you what -actually- happened... just between you and I... sometime when you're feeling... brave," he teased.<br><br>Lucius turned back around and began to pour, his back to her again.<br><br>"I am certain, though, that a demon and a half-demon would have -far- more entertaining and impressive conquests," he said. "Women have it -so easy-, compared to men. We actually have to -work- at it. I mean, I could walk into a tavern and, given some time, could walk out with at least one lass, perhaps two in a short amount of time. But you," he said, setting the bottle aside. "Someone like you could walk into a room, and a dozen priests would throw their vows of chastity aside for a single dip inside you, I'd wager," he said, turning to face her again with a glass in either hand. He stepped over to her and offered them.<br><br>"Be a dear and carry these for me? For Duncan and Jazelle. I have mine and yours over here," he said, turning back to fetch their drinks - including her double - before he rejoined her to head into the bedroom.<br><br>Back in the bedroom, drinks were delivered, and Mercy gave her report. Duncan nodded towards her. "Better than what it was, thank you," he offered politely. It still felt... odd... addressing this woman who appeared to be his own age, as the daughter of his lover. It was a new sensation for him - as was most everything else about the current situation. Duncan glanced at Jazelle, curious if she was prepared to rest or not. Duncan himself felt wired, wide awake, but he knew that was just the adrenaline of what was going on, a feeling he'd felt countless times in the field. If he could lie down and relax for awhile, the adrenaline would fade and he'd likely be ready for sleep at that point, or at least receptive to it.<br><br>Lucius watched as Mercy moved over to the love-seat facing a window and sat down in it, removing her boots in the process. She complimented Duncan's spirit quality, and Lucius nodded silently in agreement from where he leaned against a wall near the door. Then Mercy politely expressed he regret that he had lost the painting that he treasured. He smiled gently at those words, and when he heard her offer, he took a breath and pushed himself away from the wall, walking over to sit next to her on the other half of the love-seat.<br><br>He turned his head toward her after taking another drink from his glass. "It's just a painting, of course. 'Tis a silly thing to be uptight about," he said, then his smile widened a bit. "But if you're truly willing to serve as a model for a replacement... then I will humbly accept your offer and thank the gods that he one I had was destroyed," he said, raising his glass to toast her, then move it to his lips to take another sip. <br><br>&nbsp;
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-12-2014, 19:55:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"She believed she was human.&nbsp; &nbsp;She lived as a human, knew love.&nbsp; Why should she not learn to experience it?&nbsp; How much of what we are is not subject to change?&nbsp; There was a time when I would not have believed I could be as I am now, could not have even conceived of the possibility.&nbsp; &nbsp;Should I continue to exist, perhaps I will continue to change, and perhaps the changes will do no more than lead me full circle back to that which I was.&nbsp; I cannot see the future, and I do not wish to." </em><br><br>Could Jazelle have changed Duncan's mind with the snap of her fingers, she would not.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she looked into Duncan's face, she found herself wondering how much of Valerian's test, his game, he had meant for the king's and for Duncan's benefit, and how much for her own.&nbsp; Long ago, she would have scoffed at the notion of altruism, but ... perhaps that was too simplistic a word for it, should it be true.&nbsp; There was joy in teaching, in sharing lessons learned and watching a thought take spark in the mind of another.&nbsp; It was an intimacy akin to sex, and though the pleasure was more subtle and slow, it was not a reward to be discounted. <br><em><br>"I hope that Lucius does not miss your company in his pursuits, though from what I have observed, he is likely not disposed to wallow in his disappointment." </em> She looked through the open doorway to where Lucius stood, his eyes riveted on her daughter as she performed her rituals, and smiled, almost indulgently. <em>&nbsp; "You do have me, Duncan, in part due to the turn of a card -- which Mercy would name destiny.&nbsp; Yet you would have me even so ... perhaps not so fully, not without time and understanding of the consequences."<br></em><br>When he told her that he believed her, that he chose to believe her not only regarding the things that evidence supported but also what she said that depended solely upon her word, something inside the succubus eased, warmed, and yet another seed of change sprouted forth tiny, fragile roots.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Eternal seems a much less remote word when you use it,</em>" she all but whispered, though his next words chilled the warmth away.<br><br>Discussion was put on hold as Mercy came bearing glasses, and cast her ward upon the window of the bedchamber after first pushing the drapes aside enough to glance outside.&nbsp; Her lover, her daughter, exchanged words and glances, with Duncan looking somewhat uncomfortable as he thanked her.&nbsp; What had he thought, she wondered, when she said that she had a daughter -- another winged succubus in miniature?&nbsp; &nbsp;Certainly not a woman whom he might well have otherwise invited to his bed.<br><br>Mercy gave no hint of discomfort on her part -- a great deal of curiosity, and some knowing smirks which Jazelle bore with enough good grace that the amusement factor rather quickly palled -- which had been Jazelle's intent.&nbsp; She had not come easily to the role of motherhood, but she had learned apace.<br><br>The glass that Mercy had brought them was generously filled with spirits, that mixture of fermented grains and hints of other flavors that melted upon the tongue and dispersed into the nostrils.&nbsp; Jazelle had always rather enjoyed the flavor, though intoxication of the sort experienced by humans did not come to her by such means.&nbsp; It did sometimes spice her other feedings, in those rare times when the delicate balance between enhancement and spoilage was reached ... but given the presence of a warrior whose suspicions were already stoked into flame and her daughter, that would not be a consideration this evening.&nbsp; The succubus felt something of regret that such simple dulling of thoughts that the whiskey could provide to her lovers was beyond her reach.<br><br>Holding it up to the light, Jazelle studied the liquid, held it to her nose, sniffed it ... and then downed its contents in a long swallow before setting the now empty glass to the side.&nbsp; <em>"You should rest.&nbsp; You have dealt with much in a very short span of time.&nbsp; I have been told that while the mind sleeps, it processes all the more efficiently.&nbsp; With the events of the day, I think that we will both have much new information to challenge our thinking anew tomorrow.&nbsp; If this form does not please you, it is easily changed, but I would ask that my true form be for your eyes alone."</em><br><br>She did not wish to share that part of herself with any other than Duncan.&nbsp; It was private, hers alone, and like her sanctuary, she would not welcome random intrusion.&nbsp; Mercy, of course, knew of it ... but such things were of little import to her.&nbsp; Perhaps her daughter had the right of it, but that did not mean that her views on the matter were something that the succubus could easily change.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)<br></div>Her mother was being stuffy.&nbsp; &nbsp;You'd think a full blood succubus wouldn't even know the meaning of the word, but Mercy had spoken truly when she said that her mother had been born ... or whatever ... to be a monk.&nbsp; She understood the whys, but that didn't mean she couldn't have some sympathy for her all the same and try to get her to let her hair down a little.&nbsp; Obviously, she still needed getting laid a few more times -- something that she fairly obviously wasn't going to do so long as she and Lucius were in the room.&nbsp; A little more thought on that brought with it just a tad of the 'ewww' factor she had mentioned, though Mercy supposed that would likely fade given half a chance.<br><br>Rather than pursue that line of thinking, she chose instead to pick up the conversation with Lucius where it had left off after he joined her on the loveseat.&nbsp; At least he wasn't inclined to be stuffy, or over-worried about making a good impression.<br><em><br>"Let's get back to what we were talking about.&nbsp; Why was it that you came 'here' with your exploits.&nbsp; What was wrong with your own quarters and your own bed, where presumably there wouldn't have been a scheduling conflict?&nbsp; There must be a complete dearth of competent lovers in this kingdom for the women to settle for capturing less than half your attention ... or else the women so uncertain of their own attraction as to need reinforcements."</em><br><br>Of course, she didn't believe more than half of what he had said about his exploits.&nbsp; She did believe that she'd leave his bed feeling satisfied, for no other reason than he obviously had the stamina and she had plenty of confidence in her ability to keep him focused.&nbsp; The whole 'sharing' thing was still a mystery to her -- there weren't many women she actually liked well enough to want to share the attention of a man she actually desired with, though she had dabbled in a bit of performance art in the interest of one scheme or another.<br><em><br>"Most priests don't wait for a succubus ... even half a one ... to throw away their vows.&nbsp; Of course, where I'm from, only a few sects take vows of chastity.&nbsp; They do take vows of monogamy when they marry, and most of them seem to have trouble with even that.&nbsp; &nbsp;Priests aren't much to my taste.&nbsp; &nbsp;My father was a priest, with a wife whom he'd vowed to sheathe his blade in exclusively -- you can see how well that worked out.&nbsp; &nbsp; Even the ones who take up the blade for their respective gods aren't much different.&nbsp; That might seem a tad hypocritical, but then my god couldn't care less who I fuck, how I fuck, or how often I fuck.&nbsp; So long as I further his design, he leaves such matters to my discretion ... or lack thereof.&nbsp; Warriors seem to take that attitude in stride a lot better than most priests I've known.&nbsp; &nbsp;They have an advantage over nobles in that they're usually strong enough that I don't have to worry about breaking them, and if they insist on filling me in on whose loins they sprang from, it's usually someone I've at least heard of in passing."</em><br><br>It was a rare thing that Mercy had the opportunity for such openness.&nbsp; Men who could 'handle the truth' were few and far between.&nbsp; Even her god's chosen often had fragile little egos and tried to demand that she worship them as well as her deity.&nbsp; When they had served their purpose, she had had little trouble setting the record straight on that score ... and, again, she found herself wondering whether Lucius might fit the bill for Phaenix's next chosen.&nbsp; Truthfully, though, Duncan seemed more suited for that title.&nbsp; Lucius' loyalty seemed rather endearingly entrenched.&nbsp; Perhaps in the meeting with this wizard on the morrow, she could get a better sense as to how things stood.&nbsp; Meanwhile, since she'd been instructed to 'behave', she could at least further entertain herself in conversation.<br><br><em>"About what you said earlier ... no, I admit you are wise to keep an open mind."</em>&nbsp; More directed flattery, and a touch of subtle manipulation were at work in her statement, but she saw nothing wrong or underhanded in using the truth for her own purposes.&nbsp; <em> "Trust, but verify ... until you find something or someone worthy of having faith in.&nbsp; That's my motto.&nbsp; I don't really have any idea whether the pits are bottomless, though -- I've never been there, and I hope to avoid finding out if I can possibly avoid it.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mother's description of what she knew of it wasn't especially inviting, and think the only way she's going back is if someone else does the dragging, especially with tall, dark and yummy in there on the scene."</em><br><br>While she talked, she sipped at her glass at regular intervals, enjoying the taste but showing little particular care about the effects.&nbsp; Unlike her mother, Mercy enjoyed a good buzz, though her demon blood did mostly preclude her from getting drunk.&nbsp; From what she'd seen, Duncan had plenty of good stuff in supply, and he hadn't set limits on his hospitality, so there was plenty more available if her glass needed filling again.<br><br>When Lucius admitted that his painting was JUST a painting, and that he'd thank the gods for it being destroyed if she'd model for a replacement, Mercy looked at him over the realm of her glass, her eyebrows climbing up almost to her hairline in exaggerated astonishment. <em> "How much have you had to drink?&nbsp; Maybe I should finish yours, since back when it was going up in smoke, you screamed over it like a little girl finding out her crush was going to the ball with a girl with much BIGGER boobs.&nbsp; Or should I just consider that an expression of your interest in finding out just what would be revealed by the next layer of clothes?"</em><br><br>In short, unless one of her wards went off, or she started hearing screams, smelling smoke, or seeing flames ... Mercy wasn't really inclined to worry overmuch about an imminent attack.&nbsp; Whatever the demon had come to do, he'd gone ... and that usually meant someone either had a plan or was busy trying to scrape one together.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>23-12-2014, 10:36:35</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>"Oh, I am glad she had the chance to experience it. Just as I hope -you- have the chance to experience it... someday. Maybe... soon," Duncan replied, a faint smile on his lips. He felt he was being pretty obvious, or perhaps she wouldn't see it that way. "All of us are subject to change. There is a saying here that the older you are, the harder it is - but that still doesn't mean change is impossible. We just get set in our ways, and the longer we are, the more difficult of a challenge it is to alter those habits we get ourselves so used to. As for where those changes take you - that really depends on the the individual. Some grow from the change and become something different, never looking back - while some do come round full circle, given enough time. As you say - we can't tell the future, and I think most of us wouldn't want to."<br><br>Duncan chuckled at her words concerning Lucius. "No, he will not miss my company, at least not during -those- types of pursuits," he said. "He is rarely down for long. He doesn't allow himself to be out of sorts for any real length of time. A set-back for him is a temporary obstacle. It is one of his more redeeming qualities," Duncan replied, taking a slight sip from his glass.<br><br>"I am gratified to know that I do have you... even if I needed a card game to have you 'so fully', as you hint. And this is not the first time you have suggested there would be consequences... Would you care to enlighten me? Have I got myself into something I can not yet see? Or... is there something you're not sharing with me that I should know?" It had made him slightly nervous, this talk of consequences, as if he had rushed into things with her - and maybe he had. But it felt as though she was almost 'warning' him, and if that was the case, he hoped she would speak plainly to him and make it clear just what she meant.<br><br>"Eternal is... well... it's eternal. If I say that I will desire you eternally, that will not change, even with my eventual death," he said with a slight shrug. "Every time I take to the field of battle, I understand that could be the last time I see the land I love, or the sky, or the moon and stars, or the sun. I understand completely that we all perish - mortals, anyway - and our passing makes room for the next generation. Someone will take my place, and I will not be missed. As such, people like me... like Lucius... live each day almost as though it will be our last. We are fragile creatures, we humans - but even when I do fade, even with my last breath - I will desire you, Jazelle. And whatever comes after - I will desire you still."<br><br>The other two returned, glasses in hand, and Duncan had accepted his graciously, yet had only taken a few small sips. It didn't bother him at all that Lucius had gone straight to his best stock - this moment, this... event... was worth it. To share a drink with his demonic lover, his lover's daughter, and his closest friend and comrade, was likely something that few other men could ever claim. Yet there he was, while the threat of a demonic attack still loomed over the keep. As such, Duncan decided to keep his alcoholic intake to a minimum.<br><br>He watched as Jazelle drained her glass - and then suggested that he rest. She also suggested that her true form remain between the two of them - and he nodded quickly. He could not tell if she was intentionally being short with him - or if he was just imagining it. "Your current form pleases me. Any form you choose would please me, for I know what lies beneath," he whispered with a crooked grin. "And I do like the idea of the real you being saved for something that you and I share, together." He figured she wanted to keep her true form secretive from others eyes, but for him, it would serve as a small intimacy that she reserved for him alone.<br><br>"And I will lie down and rest... but only if you will lie down with me," he said, the crooked grin still on his lips. "As your daughter promised and asked in return - I can promise to be a good boy... unless provoked," he teased, setting his glass down on a nearby shelf and then moving over toward the bed. With the other two away to themselves, Duncan untied the robe he had hastily donned, and shrugged it off his shoulders. Slipping into the bed, beneath the blanket and sheet beneath, he moved farther in, then pulled back the corner in open invitation to Jazelle to join him. <br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius smiled as Mercy continued their discussion from the previous room. His explanation of the events that had transpired here in this very set of rooms was obviously quite curious to her, and he, of course, was all too happy to elaborate. "Well, as fate would have it, during that time, I was recently made Duncan's adjutant, or second in command. As such, I was currently in the process of moving from my previous lower-grade quarters to the ones you have seen with your own eyes, so taking an eager female back to 'my place' wasn't exactly a good idea. Besides, we had all had a -bit- to drink, you see, and I confess that I rather enjoy... observing... from time to time, so I had no problem with it at all. I thought Duncan might, but he seemed to be quite daring that night, having recently come off a very victorious campaign. The ladies, of course, were eager to bed men of power and so would have said yes if we had asked them to perform on a table in front of thousands of spectators if we had asked it of them. And the rest, as they say... is history," he smiled, taking a sip from his glass.<br><br>"The reason for multiple women is simple - oftimes men feel it to be an erotic bit of variety from the one-on-one norm. And sometimes, the reverse is true, as well; a woman might enjoy the attentions of two men, rather than just one. To have four hands caressing your skin instead of two - has the thought never crossed your mind?" he asked, glancing at her sideways for a moment before continuing. "But do not get me wrong - the vast majority of my experiences - and I suppose, Duncan's as well - is reserved to one-on- one play. Full attention between one lover and another is a very powerful thing. And yes, doing so in private is the usual preference, for it allows both members to be open and free to express themselves however they wish."<br><br>He took another sip from his glass, giving her a chance to share her views. He listened closely to her thoughts on priests, monogamy, and the like. When she finished, he raised his glass to her. "Here here. Your god sounds like a bloody good fella, one who I'd be happy to raise a glass with, should the opportunity ever present itself. I would -never- make a good priest, not just because a vow of chastity would be too... painful for me to endure," he chuckled softly. "Just as monogamy and marriage are words fairly foreign to my vocabulary - I suppose they are 'fine things', and would be possible to adhere to, if the right woman was found. But I've never enjoyed a woman with whom I've felt any sort of... connection... that would encourage me to seek or consider such things."<br><br>Unknown to him, he was feeling something similar to what she felt - an ability to simply speak his mind about such things, without the feeling of being judged for it. Perhaps Mercy was judging him inwardly, and if so - that was her choice and he could do little, if anything about it. She seemed to be open and direct with him, so it was the least he felt he could do in return.<br><br>"Trust but verify. Very wise words," he said, "Wise words indeed for someone so... young," he said, smiling slyly at her. He had the feeling she wasn't quite that young at all... but he'd been wrong before. "I suppose I should be glad that you are not overly familiar with the Pits, though. Sounds like you'd have to be in some sort of enormous trouble in order to be 'dragged' there, and if so, I would hope that you or your mother would never be sent to such a place," he said.<br><br>By the time that they got around to discussing the painting, Lucius's glass was nearly empty. He laughed at her words concerning the destroyed artwork. "Oh, yes, at the moment it was worth being upset about. But, in the end... it -is- just a painting, and can be replaced with another. And with you offering to be the model... well... I can only assume that the new product would be better anyway. What man would not appreciate an upgrade like that?" he asked, opening his arms wide in question, a slight shrug of his shoulders emphasizing his point. "True, I'd look forward to seeing what lies beneath those rather snug leathers you wear, but... I've always had a keen eye for deducing such things on my own, and even with the clothing in the way, I have no doubt that artwork reflecting your beauty would enhance my wall far more than the previous one did," he said with a smile, raising his glass up to down the last little bit contained within.<br><br>Lucius then rose to his feet and extended his empty hand toward her, palm up. "Shall I fetch you another double, lady?" he asked, offering to refill her glass.<br><br>"And while I fetch us each another drink, perhaps you might regale me with a tale or two of your -own-exploits. Surely there is something -juicy- in there that might provide some measure of stimulating entertainment?" he asked.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-12-2014, 01:14:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle's eyes softened as Duncan spoke, and as much as she was generally happy for her daughter's presence, she wished that circumstances had allowed them a day, a week ... time to settle in ... but it had not. <em> "Duncan, you have bound a succubus to you, and thus you to a succubus.&nbsp; &nbsp;There are many who would call for your destruction for that alone, be the binding the result of magic or the strength of a promise alone.&nbsp; &nbsp;Though you likely see that as well as I, there are other considerations - things that I cannot tell you what the consequences might be, for I do not know myself.&nbsp; &nbsp;How often do humans promise faithfully to give themselves to only one lover, and fail?&nbsp; &nbsp;Even jealousy - I understand that better than I did even yesterday.&nbsp; Perhaps ..." </em>&nbsp; Jazelle did not miss his reference to experiencing love, and for the first time she found herself ... thinking ... perhaps hoping ... that it was possible, even for one such as her. <br><br>In part, the challenge that he had offered had made the temptation to accept his wager irresistible.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had desired him from the first, respected and admired both his will and his reasoned spirit ... but she had also wondered whether she might be capable of more, and if he might be the one who could both teach and inspire.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet she had not his daring ... or perhaps simply his faith.<br><br>After they had finished their drinks and Mercy and Lucius retreated to the other room, their conversation muted enough to be ignored should she wish to do so, Duncan agreed to her request, and to rest.&nbsp; Jazelle watched as he loosed his robe and let it fall ... and cast her eyes toward the front room with a less than indulgent look.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was sorely tempted to provoke ... regardless of who was in the next room ... but doubted that it was a wise idea.<br><br>She had, however, not been wise before.<br><br>For the second time during the night, the gown that she had worn slid from her shoulders to a pool upon the floor.&nbsp; She did not linger any longer than it took to close the short distance as she slid between the sheets and into Duncan's arms until her body was pressed tight against his.<br><br><em>"Though the wager brought me to you, Duncan, I do not regret it ... and I will not bring you harm if it can be prevented, in any form.&nbsp; This I promise as well."</em><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>As they talked, Mercy became increasingly convinced that Lucius' suspicion and fear was lessening apace, and it did not much matter to her whether it had to do with their words and actions, or his interest in adding her to his lengthy list of conquests.<br><em><br>"If you fear that I am somehow below the age of consent, Lucius, I assure you that you need have no moral qualms.&nbsp; So it is variety you seek, then, as well as quantity.&nbsp; The thought is not unknown to me, but nor is it something I crave.&nbsp; It seems to me rather like adding a third into a dance meant only for two -- unless the rhythm is right between all three, it becomes a clumsy shade of what might have been.&nbsp; &nbsp;Privacy is less a concern - I rarely worry about what others think, unless they possess the means to interfere with my aims."</em><br><em><br>"I have not heard of him drinking with mortals, but perhaps he will appreciate the sentiment.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even if he does not, he seems equally unconcerned with reputation.&nbsp; Perhaps that is something of what drew me, after so many years of having others scrutinize my appearance, my expression, my actions, my dress." </em> Mercy shrugged mildly.<br><br>Along about that time, she turned her head toward the bedroom, just in time to see her mother shrug out of her dress and slide into the bed with Duncan.&nbsp; Perhaps it was her imagination, but there was something different in the way her mother reacted to the general-- different from anything she had ever witnessed.&nbsp; Mercy was no stranger to loving, or at least to ill-fated love.&nbsp; Could it be that her mother had finally succumbed?&nbsp; &nbsp;The half-demon had no doubts, herself, that a demon could love -- all it needed was the right man (or woman) and the right circumstance.<br><em><br>"Brava, Mom,"</em> she murmured softly, wondering how long her Mother's admonishment to 'behave' would last, lying naked in a bed with a (she supposed) equally naked general who looked to be put together pretty well and had an obvious 'thing' for her that seemed to go beyond the usual 'fuck the succubus' stich.&nbsp; More than hers would be, perhaps, but she doubted seriously whether it would approach 'platonic' or anything remotely near as 'pure as the driven snow'.&nbsp; For her part, she couldn't care less ... though if the screaming started, she hoped Lucius would not have consumed so much of the good general's liquor to make him useless.<br><br><em>"Another double, then.&nbsp; What would interest you of my exploits?&nbsp; There have been many&nbsp; -- from seductions to plots of revenge, to breaking into guarded vaults and bypassing magical defenses to make my way into the most private sanctums of churches ... and from orcs to monarchs, I have used the desires of men to get myself both into and out of trouble.&nbsp; What is it you would know of me ... that would not be so much as to discourage you from a thorough demonstration of your blade-wielding skills?"</em><br><br>Mercy's voice was lazy, with an undertone of challenge, and when Lucius brought the second drinks, she reached out and took hold of his arm to guide him down closer to her on the loveseat, the gleam of mischief in her dark eyes.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>24-12-2014, 09:25:10</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan nodded in understanding now, hearing her words that were meant to drive home the dangers of what he was doing. He had considered that, for certain. But he had also decided that the risk was worth it. It touched him that she was concerned about it, though, and he was not going to be frustrated because of it. If she -didn't- care about the situation, she would have had no reason to bring it up.<br><br>"Yes, of course you are right. Even Lucius worries," Duncan smirked, whispering to her softly. "He fears I am under your sway, and it will simply take time to ease those concerns. But I know the dangers, Jazelle, and I appreciate your concern. I weighed the danger already, and... I still desire you above all else... isn't that usually what a succubus wants to hear from their victims?" he said, adding a gentle touch of playfulness to his voice in an attempt to soothe her a bit.<br><br>"How often does a mortal promise to be faithful... and fail? It happens, I can not argue that. But... just as you have given me your word... can you not accept -my- word that I shall seek intimacy from you and you alone?" he asked. "Or... am I misunderstanding your concern in that regard? Are you trying to say... that<em> you </em>can not keep a similar promise for me?"<br><br>He shook his head slightly, still talking softly for her ears alone, though he had no idea how sharp Mercy's might be. If Mercy could hear them, he was certain that Jazelle would have stopped him, and not spoken to him so openly in the first place, herself.<br><br>"As for jealousy... there may be moments that -both- of us feel such an emotion. Is that so terrible a thing? I know it is in your nature to... entice... to... be alluring. I can promise to adapt to that. But as long as you know it is -you- who I lust for... then hopefully you will endure it as easily as I try to."<br><br>He remembered his own bit of jealousy when she was flirting with Lucius, and how it had burned in the pit of his stomach. If they hadn't made their wager, that burning would have been -much- more intense, and it might have caused a bit of a scene between him and his friend. But Duncan had held fast to that wager, that promise, and it had worked. Could she do the same if the roles were reversed? She had briefly seen him and Lucius in the garden with the Blankenship sisters... and she seemed to have felt that very same burning, yet Duncan was not even mentally in the 'game' at that point. What if she had come across him outright flirting with another woman in such a way that was similar to how she had flirted with Lucius? Was that what she was warning him about? <br><br>Such things were set aside, though, at least for tonight. It seemed as though they had much bigger problems to worry about, but they had handled it as best they could, given the short notice and the general state of affairs in the keep. They needed to seek out the wizard's counsel, but that would have to wait until morning. Until then... mortals needed rest, or so Jazelle had insinuated. <br><br>He slipped into bed, and pulled the blankets between him and her away as an invitation. She let the gown on her body slide down her frame, and Duncan's eyes devoured her nudity. It felt odd, though... knowing this was not Lady Alerian... the reaction in his loins was quick, and for a moment, it was -guilty-, almost as if he were -cheating- on her somehow? But quickly he reminded himself this -was- Jazelle, still. If he touched her - and he very much planned to - he'd be touching Jazelle, -not- Lady Alerian.<br><br>It was... an odd feeling. Some men might relish it, being able to tell her to appear as anything they wished, a different woman every night, if their libido was up for it. But Duncan truly desired -one- form in particular, though it was one he could not have at the moment.<br><br>Still, Jazelle, regardless of her appearance, slid into the bed - and over to him, firmly pressing herself against him. His body wrapped gently against hers, his legs tangling with hers, and in an instant, he rolled her onto her back, his body above hers - poised... ready... eager. Though he held that position, resting on his elbows, his thighs gently easing hers apart - but making no move to take her.<br><br>"I do not think you would harm me, Jazelle. You had ample opportunities to do so, and did not. I -believe- you," he whispered clearly. "And I am very, very grateful you do not regret our wager... and I hope you do not regret anything else..," he said, smiling down into Lady Alerian's eyes. <br><br>"But tell me one thing, my sweet...," he whispered, as his lower body moved so sinuously, until the head of his manhood brushed gently against her inner thigh, sliding so warmly along her skin towards her core, slowly - inch by inch. "Can you feel... everything? In these other shapes you assume... do you -<em>feel</em>- every bit as much as you do... when you are in the form I love most?"<br><br>It seemed that even though it was true that mortals required rest, the general was far from ready for slumber tonight...<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div><br>Lucius scrunched up his brow at her assertion that he sought 'variety'. He let out a long, low, "Ehhhhhhhhh... well, that isn't entirely accurate. Sometimes, the whim for variety might strike me, as it might strike any man. Mother Nature dictates that we are, indeed, mammals. As such, we need to procreate to grow the species. Males are ingrained to spread their seed as much as possible, to creature more stock. Sometimes that urge is born out, but usually, we as humans resist that urge and focus our attentions on a single partner... though there are parts of the world where men have harems of women, and I've even read a story where one nation far to the south is the opposite, where the women each have a harem of men. But -in general-... when a man and a woman here grow -close-, THEN they agree to be monogamous. Usually that's a sure sign that things are quite -serious- between them," he said.<br><br>"The dance analogy - is a very good one," he nodded, continuing with her line of thinking. "MOST of the time, a dance between two people is the proper course of action. But once in awhile, a dance with more than one partner at the same time is... exciting. Granted, that takes very special circumstances, given the nature of jealousy, especially amongst men, he chuckled softly. "It requires special care, and a special circumstance, and I believe it is a rare thing, certainly FAR more rare than one on one liaisons, " he said with a nod. "And like you, I rarely care what others think. Especially some of the priests who accuse me of being a harlot, a trouble-maker, and a home-wrecker. I'll have them know, the only home I've wrecked is my own... but usually the damage is minimal," he said with a grin.<br><br>"In regards to your deity, it seems you've chosen to follow one of the most -sensible- ones that I've heard of," he said. "I admit, I am not a religious man in the least - another strike against me, according to anyone who wears robes in the keep. But I am not so blind as to believe the gods do not influence what goes on here. I simply do my best to stay out of their way when they do it," he smirked.<br><br>She confirmed her wish for another double, and he nodded to her as he retrieved her glass and moved over to the shelf and prepared two refreshed glasses - a normal for him, a double for her.<br><br>"Oh, I was just offering you the chance to share anything about yourself that you'd like to share, and I was simply opening the floor for anything up to and including your own 'exploits', since we're being so 'open' here," he said with a smile in his voice. "Do I want to hear about how some man with a cock as big as your forearm pounded you into oblivion, or about how some lover of yours took you over the edge dozens of times in one night? No, of course not - I am a -male-, after all, and we have fragile egos," he said, his voice playful, "But...," he turned and strode to her. "We already both know you arouse me. We both already know I would love to do terrible things to your body that start with me touching you, and end with you crying out in pleasure. That's the simple, <em>basic</em> stuff. But I'd love to hear more about -you-, Mercy... if you're daring enough to share."<br><br>When he reached her, she in turn reached up and guided him down onto the seat next to her - closer to her - and he certainly did not resist, carefully handing her the glass with her double.<br><br>"As for discouraging me from wanting to provide a demonstration for you... well... I must admit that the only way you're likely to do that is if you slip your panties off and a cock flops out. Short of that... you're not likely to dissuade me, though if you feel the urge to try... I am all ears," he said, crooked smile on his lips, taking a quick sip from his glass.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-12-2014, 21:53:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Their conversation continued, words soft and directed for their ears alone, though she had little doubt that Mercy could hear if she chose to listen, just as had she set her mind to it, she could have heard every word of what passed between her daughter and Duncan's second-in-command.&nbsp; &nbsp; If she did, it would be of no moment to her - as much as she and Mercy had shared, she had kept no secrets either regarding the things she had done without conscience or what she had done since.&nbsp; &nbsp;She would not start now, for with such secrets lay the seeds of her destruction.<br><em><br>"It is what I wish to hear from you,"</em> Jazelle answered. <em> "But, no, that is not what I intended with my warning.&nbsp; I will keep my promises.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet, I am not unaware that no vow, however earnest, however strong, fails until it does.&nbsp; Until now, I have never sought to test my strength against my own hungers, not fully.&nbsp; I have, rather, resisted any such curiosity, any such temptation.&nbsp; &nbsp;As Mercy said, the ties that bound me to my origins have been undone, but the mage that freed me did not do so trusting in my intent, Duncan.&nbsp; The laws he laid down with his magicks are the laws I must follow to keep that freedom.&nbsp; &nbsp;There is no forgiveness for failure, and no recourse for explanations or excuses."</em><br><br>Even if the wizard had been inclined to relent, he had long since passed beyond such things.&nbsp; She wondered, at times, whether he had expected her to succeed or to fail -- whether he would have approved of her success for so long, or if he would merely have been astounded, and certain that it was only a matter of time.&nbsp; Jazelle preferred to believe the former.<br><br>Over the years, she had come to realize many things, of her own nature, of mortality, of life, of meaning.&nbsp; In some respects, she had learned as much as she could without changing with the learning.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did not regret her wager, and would not even if she failed. Some things were worth the risk of everything, even if you did not truly understand that until the gauntlet had been taken up.<br><br>In the bed, beside him, Jazelle could feel the warmth and strength of his body against hers, and without need to see or touch the manifestation of his desire for her, she could feel it wrapping around her like a garment of the finest weaving of fabric, the softness of silk, the warmth of wool, and the endurance of steel.&nbsp; She could clothe herself in it effortlessly, and never need another garment, or, so it seemed to her, wish for anything more.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was therefore no surprise at all as he moved with, against, her to put her on her back, thighs parted in the age old position that was both conquered and surrendered.<br><br><em>"Whatever my appearance, Duncan, it is 'me' that you touch, that you kiss, that you desire.&nbsp; &nbsp;The shape of my body does not matter.&nbsp; I feel your touch as keenly, with as much longing and desire in this form as with any other.&nbsp; &nbsp;I would enjoy surprising you, seeing the knowledge grow in your eyes ... just as it did when you realized that 'Lady Alerian' was none other ... an infinite variety of expressions of my desire, and regard, for you."</em><br><br>No, this was not the safest of ideas ... but neither did it hold many pitfalls.&nbsp; Lucius might still believe Duncan was under some compulsion, but Jazelle believed that he did not truly fear for his immediate safety at her hands.&nbsp; Given their apparent history of sharing such things ... perhaps the only true danger was that whatever happened between her and Duncan might spur Lucius and Mercy to similar activities.<br><br>Yet Jazelle had already seen, felt, Mercy's awakened interest in Duncan's second ... and it had taken even less skill to read it reflected.&nbsp; &nbsp; Like as not, the two of them would not long put off the most emphatic manifestation of that mutual attraction ... regardless of whether she and Duncan slept the sleep of the chaste or not.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy listened with interest to Lucius' views on the world, procreation and sex.&nbsp; It wasn't new to her, but she rather enjoyed his practical delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was most familiar with men with 'causes' ... and rarely did she find one with purely hedonistic outlook to be serious minded enough to catch her attention for more than a quick fuck ... and even that was rare.&nbsp; Physical stimulation without mental ... lacked luster ... though it would do in a pinch.&nbsp; When it came to 'pinch' time, she usually mixed other business with pleasure, being of a fairly practical mindset despite her origins.<br><br><em>"I've been branded most of those things myself ... rather frequently.&nbsp; Oddly, by the same sort who tend to blame me for tempting them from the path of righteousness by my very existence -- as if they didn't have the capacity to keep it buttoned up in their pants or take themselves elsewhere if gazing at my 'bounties' got them all hot and bothered.&nbsp; &nbsp;I take it you don't bother to deny the accusation of 'harlot' or 'trouble-maker'?&nbsp; Good man -- one should be proud of their ability to know how and when to cause mayhem."</em><br><br>As Lucius sat down beside her, Mercy shifted to press her knee against his thigh as she took the refreshed drink, sipping as Lucius told her what might prevent him from wanting to better their acquaintance.&nbsp; <em>"Well, I do share my mother's ability to alter my appearance to some degree -- but not THAT great a degree.&nbsp; The wrappings may differ, but the package remains the same.&nbsp; &nbsp;It's also a pretty big challenge to mess too much with the basic shape and I can't hold it for long ... not that I'd really want to." </em>&nbsp; &nbsp;From the way she spoke, it did not take too much intuitive skill to know that what she described she sometimes did for a purpose that she found somewhat distasteful as well as a source of pride.&nbsp; Her eyes darkened, her face screwed up as if she'd bitten into a sour, underripe fruit, and she took a deep slosh of her drink to wash the perceived taste away before reaching out to toy with a bit of Lucius' long locks in passing.<br><br><em>"Well then, shall I tell of you how Mother and I met?&nbsp; If you want to get to know me, it is pretty much the start of who I am."</em><br><br>She waited for some sign of agreement, still toying with his hair, but once it was given, she relinquished her grip and sat back, a subtle refusal to use her body's appeal to soften whatever reaction he might have.&nbsp; <em>"Mother didn't consider herself to be 'mother material' when she found herself with a bun in the oven, so she brought me to my father ... a priest of Amalthea in the capitol city of Askandria.&nbsp; My father was a handsome man, fair of hair and visage, and his excesses with wine and the dinner table had not yet brought dissolution to his body ... and he had taken to wife a woman whose beauty outpaced her passions.&nbsp; She had borne him a son, a sickly child with the face of an angel, and considered her duties in the bedroom done save for when guilt made her suffer his attention."<br><br>"When he met my mother, he desired her ... with a passion made all the stronger for his own frustrations.&nbsp; &nbsp; He continued to desire her, and she used that desire to make him agree to raise me.&nbsp; To the church, to his wife, I was a foundling, owed charity and care.&nbsp; He even swore upon the life of his son that I was not the illicit seed of her loins ... his wife was a wise woman, in her way.&nbsp; &nbsp;If she did not love me, she cared for me well enough, as did my father, mostly to assuage his guilt for his continued lusting, as my mother returned to him now and again to assure his word to her and to satisfy her own curiosity."</em><br><br>There was no bitterness, no true sadness, or much of anything other than amusement in Mercy's tone as she recounted that part of her story, and she held her glass without drinking. <br><br><em>"All might have been well, had that sickly son that he fathered first not rallied, and grew strong, possessed of his parents beauty and their faith.&nbsp; &nbsp;His heart was as lovely as his face, or so I thought, and I followed him with my eyes even before my footsteps allowed me to pursue his shadow.&nbsp; &nbsp;As I grew, I had many teachers in the church, and my beauty, my heart, was praised by them all, yet I desired praise only from my foster brother, Alexi -- his smile would make my heart sing, while his frown could drive me to tears, and I followed the commandments of the church because to do less would have disappointed him, and that I could not bear."<br><br>"As I grew older, I found to my delight that Alexi shared my feelings ... feelings that, since we were not related by blood, were not forbidden.&nbsp; Our father, of course, did all that he could to discourage Alexi's attraction, even going so far as sending him away to train to be one of Amalthea's holy warriors -- an achievement once thought impossible given his sickly first years -- yet the feelings did not wane.&nbsp; In hindsight, I suppose the discouragement had the opposite effect, as there was nothing my half-brother desired that his mother did not find a way to give him."<br><br>"Already, as my body changed from that of a girl to a woman, I felt the pull of my bloodlines, but for Alexi I would be chaste if that was what he wanted.&nbsp; When he finished his training, he planned to tell my father that we desired to marry ..."</em><br><br>She paused, and lifted the glass to her lips, but took only a single drink.&nbsp; As much as the story had once driven her spirits into the dirt, she felt only a grim sort appreciation for the cliched irony, the made to order moral of the far-reaching consequences of infidelity, of being a slave to lust.<br><br><em>"I'm sure you can guess how this chapter of the story ends?"</em><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>25-12-2014, 08:06:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle spoke more about the freedom she had gained, and Duncan's interest was piqued. He couldn't help it, having a lust for information almost as deep as his lust for Jazelle's flesh. Constantly questioning and wondering about things had a way of making many of his plans even more reliable, and his curiosity had helped him far more than hindered. And when it came to this exotic creature beneath him, he couldn't help but want to know everything about her that he possibly could.<br><br>"You've mentioned this... freedom... before," he whispered. "What 'laws' did this wizard lay down who helped free you? You asked me not to demand his name, but can you at least tell me about these 'rules' you must live by, so that my actions do not remotely tempt you to break them?" he asked. "No forgiveness... no recourse for explanations or excuses... it sounds very serious, and I would very much like to know about these things that could so easily take you away from me," he said. <br><br>She explained to him about her 'appearance', and he listened closely. It still felt... odd, most likely because he'd never had a partner with such an ability, of course. She explained that she -enjoyed- the surprise that came to his eyes when he realized who Lady Alerian truly was - and he smiled almost sheepishly at that. "It... does not bother you, if I ask you to appear as someone else?" he asked curiously. "Knowing that I lust for the body of another woman, and ask you to take that appearance... such a thing does not... offend you?" <br><br>He definitely understood the draw most men would have to such a thing. But more curiously, he wondered how -she- took it. Then again, she didn't love him, or feel that sort of attachment for him - did she truly care whether he desired her, or Lady Alerian, or some other woman in her stead? It was fascinating, and parts of his mind - the human parts - warred over the pros and cons, the ifs and buts about such a thing. Was he just being silly? He tried to imagine Jazelle asking him to 'look like Lucius' so that she might fulfill her physical fantasy with him looking like someone else... and the thought unnerved him. Would it bother her at all? Or was she so used to appearing as any man's fantasy, that doing so had little meaning to her?<br><br>"I want you. The -real- you. I know I can not have her, not with other eyes within view...," he whispered. "But you must understand this, Jazelle. I want to wrap my hands around your horns as I thrust into you from behind. I want to run my fingers through your snow white hair. I want to swim in your exotic eyes, I want to feel the claws of her fingers along my back, your tongue on my skin... No matter what form you take, I desire those things most of all."<br><br>"For now, though-..," he whispered as his hips moved, the tip of his cock gently probing against her sex, "I'll gladly sink into whatever form you choose to take, as long as you're willing... and as long as you can feel every... single... inch...."<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>"Well," Lucius said, taking on a faint hint of fake indignation, "I might -sometimes- deny their claims. I mean... I don't get -paid- for my dalliances, so 'whore' would not be an accurate description. I understand such insults are hurled at me either in anger, or in jealousy, and I can't say that I actually try to avoid inciting some men to say such things. I think part of me even enjoys it, especially if I leave a place with a beauty on my arm that many others desire. There's something... intoxicating about that, I must confess," he said with a slight shrug. <br><br>He chuckled softly as he continued. "But I definitely know how to cause trouble and mayhem, for certain, and you could most certainly say I am proud of it." He raised his glass towards her, then tipped back a quick sip of it.<br><br>Sitting close to her now, her knee pressed against his thigh, and he did not seem to mind at all. She took her drink from him, and he listened as she admitted she could change her features, physically. His eyes widened, then, as he looked on with surprise. "That is... incredible," he said, sounding truly amazed. "I mean, the practical applications - infiltration, being an imposter... just -imagine- all the mayhem you could cause," he chuckled. "No, wait... I suppose you don't -have- to imagine at all!" he said. "You're make the perfect assassin, the perfect spy, you could infiltrate treasuries, the bedrooms of any nobility, the war-tent of any general... you would truly be mayhem incarnate."<br><br>He smiled a bit more as he continued. 'You'd obviously almost make the perfect lover, as well. 'Larger breasts, please,' or 'Tighter cunny, if you don't mind', and with a thought... you can make such changes. Astounding. 'Red hair tonight, lover. Long this time, with wider hips, longer legs... No, wait, green eyes, but -blonde- hair, yes'," he chuckled, shaking his head. "It's almost... unfair, having such ability, Mercy. I envy you." Then his eyes seemed to grow serious, even though the smile remained on his lips. "But it all makes me very curious to know... if what I see now... is the -real- Mercy? Or is this just... one of your many changes?"<br><br>As he spoke, she had reached out to toy with some random, long locks of his hair - and he made no move to stop her. If he was lucky, he thought, one touch might lead to another, and then another, and then-... well... in his experience, lots of touching led to lots -more- touching, until... everyone got to touch all they wanted to touch.<br><br>Lucius nodded quickly, though, when she offered to tell of how she and her mother met. He even leaned forward a little, obviously eager to learn.<br><br>She began her tale, and Lucius listened quite attentively. Questions immediately came to his mind, but he would not dare to interrupt her. Perhaps she would allow him a chance later to ask such things, or perhaps she was sharing the only parts of her past that she felt comfortable sharing, and he could certainly respect that. He listened as the tale took a very interesting turn, her developing feelings for her half-brother, Alexi, and how the two of them had come close to actual -marriage-. That surprised him greatly, but if a succubus could give birth to a child such as Mercy, then Lucius figured that it was entirely reasonable to believe Mercy could have loved someone enough to bind herself to him.<br><br>But she stopped at that point, taking a drink - and offering to let him guess what the ending was. <br><br>He could think of several endings, but almost all of those ended sourly.<br><br>"My guess would be... he learned what you are - and he did not accept you because of it. Either he tried to harm you, or perhaps out of the love he bore for you, perhaps he simply banished you from his company," Lucius said, his voice soft - sympathetic - hoping that he was wrong. Of course, if there had been a happy 'ending' for her and Alexi, what would she be doing -here-, and why would she have done some of the things she had already mentioned doing in her past? <br><br>No, Lucius was quite sure the ending of her tale had not been a good one.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>25-12-2014, 17:57:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"I was crafted from chaos, my general; the only law that I knew was the will of my keeper.&nbsp; I learned of other laws over the passage of time - the laws that govern all realms, even where chaos holds sway, the laws of those who bound chaos to their will, the laws of gods and of men, to whose realms I was sometimes called.&nbsp; I learned of the laws of summonings, and of magic.&nbsp; I learned ... so that I could use these laws to further my purpose,&nbsp; whatever purpose that might be.&nbsp; When I was freed from the abyss in full, the wizard ... replaced the bonds that held me to my native plane with ones of law -- to slay without justice, to break faith, to betray, to lie, to murder -- these I may not do, lest the magic unweave itself.&nbsp; I would no longer be hidden from my kind, and sooner or later ..."</em><br><br>There were degrees, she supposed, else she would not have survived the early years of her freedom.&nbsp; Yet, as she had learned and developed an understanding of things beyond her own desires and benefit, the stronger his magic had become -- she had embraced his laws, and they had responded by giving her protections that once would have been unthinkable.&nbsp; &nbsp;In some respect, she had traded one set of chains for another, but the weight of the ones she wore now were comfortable, even reassuring.<br><br><em>"Should it?"</em>&nbsp; Jazelle asked the question lazily of Duncan, her eyes already half-lidded with desire.&nbsp; <em>"You know what I am, whatever form I take.&nbsp; I suppose, if you wished for me to take the form of this woman you had loved, if your thoughts and desires were for her rather than me ... "&nbsp; </em>Jazelle's eyes darkened as she spoke, the blue of Lady Alerian's sky-colored orbs deepening and taking on the hue of an approaching storm.&nbsp; Her body tensed under Duncan's hold, only a bit, but enough to be noticeable, the heat from her skin lessening as if a cool breeze had made its way beneath the blanket to tickle at the most sensitive areas of the exposed skin.&nbsp; <em>"If you asked me for that, it would ... "</em><br><br>What would it do?&nbsp; Offend?&nbsp; No, Jazelle was well-acquainted with that concept, and offense was not what she was feeling.&nbsp; Anger?&nbsp; Yes, there was a touch of that in what she felt, but no more than a touch.&nbsp; No, what she felt at the thought was ... more akin to loss, the loss of something that she had not truly realized that she valued until it was gone.&nbsp; It felt ... like the brush of death, a reminder of mortality, of loss.<br><em><br>"Don't ask me for that, Duncan." </em> Her words were not a command, but a request, made so low as to almost be inaudible above the sound of their heartbeats, his breath.<br><br><em>"Whatever form I wear, it is I and no other, my general.&nbsp; To surprise, to please, but not to deceive ...&nbsp; I would be your desire, as you are mine."</em><br><br>Would she have desired him, if he wore another face, another body, one not so pleasing to her senses.&nbsp; Briefly, she thought of Carlysle Valerian, the wizard ... a man of intellect whom she enjoyed engaging.&nbsp; Wizard though he might be, hale beneath his robes and possessed of as many tricks in bed as he possessed in the realm of magic and of court ... she did not desire him.<br><br>It was a curious question, and one deserving of more thought .. but later ... as Duncan went on to speak of what he wished from her when they were alone.&nbsp; The chill disappeared as if it had never been, a pleasant shiver rippling down the Lady Alerian form, a low growling sound vibrating low in her throat. <em> "More than willing ... whatever my form, I burn for<strong> you</strong>, my general."&nbsp; </em>She had not intended, precisely, the emphasis on the word ... but it came nonetheless, and there was neither lie nor exaggeration to weaken it.&nbsp; Had she been offered a trade, her Duncan for a chamber-full of the best that the kingdom had to offer ... even before their agreement ... she would not have hesitated for a moment just then ... not even for effect.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br><em>"No, I don't have to imagine it," </em>Mercy had answered with a smirk of her own as Lucius wrapped his head around the possibilities.&nbsp; <em>"I have done ... most of the things you list, though invading the bedrooms of nobles has yet to prove interesting enough for me to want to try them all.&nbsp; Unfortunately, I do not have my mother's advantage ... my bloodline is a trigger for many arcane and divine wards.&nbsp; Sometimes my best work has been done ... with a partner not so encumbered."</em><br><br><em>"There are different levels of 'real', Lucius.&nbsp; I'm real enough - and some changes I can affect without the use of magic -- not that I've ever been accused of being 'loose' in that manner.&nbsp; &nbsp;Part of the bloodline -- my body adjusts.&nbsp; Jazelle once said ... rather indelicately, I thought at the time ... that she could go from fucking an orc to a halfling in the space of a few minutes without either being cheated.&nbsp; I hope it was exasperation from my endless stream of questions rather than practical experience that prompted that particular comparison, but it seemed rude to ask."</em><br><br>Mercy's eyes, for all the casual irreverence of her words, were intent on Lucius, watching and analyzing his every reaction.&nbsp; She had not lied one bit when she had said that she preferred men who could handle the truth -- and they were few and far between.&nbsp; &nbsp;While she loved intrigue, the execution of a particularly good scheme or deception, some of that degree of 'real' was always missing.&nbsp; Opportunities to be who and what she was, with more open doors and fewer walls, was a rare treat not to be squandered.<br><br><em>"It is fairly close, I think.&nbsp; Mother wasn't exactly too clear on how much of the process is innate.&nbsp; My eyes were dark when I was born, and I had no hair at all ... but before I learned what I could do, my hair was red.&nbsp; Was it red because it was meant to be by the bloodlines, or red because even then someone's fondness for the color imprinted itself on me?&nbsp; &nbsp; What some can do with heated irons and the application of dyes, wigs and powders, I can do with without.&nbsp; Mostly, it's little changes, for variety, to amuse ... unless there is reason for more drastic change."</em><br><br>Once she had begun her story, most of the levity drained away.&nbsp; Once she had taken some sense of catharsis, perhaps even bitter justification, from relating her tale ... but the pain had been greater then.&nbsp; Now, the wounds had healed -- leaving scars, surely -- and she could even pity most of those involved, particularly Alexi, who had traded one demon for a multitude ... and in this case, his own demons had been less kind.<br><br><em>"You have the gist of it.&nbsp; My father ... when he accepted that Alexi would not be swayed ... confessed his sins, very publicly, very dramatically, very ... finally.&nbsp; He had not the courage to answer for them as his order required, but he lived long enough to hear his son condemn me.&nbsp; I am told that he called for my mother with his last breath ... and for that I suppose I should be grateful.&nbsp; I was hauled off to the dungeons, until the elders could hand down the formal sentence of execution.&nbsp; It made no difference that I had lived amongst them, by their laws, molding myself to be all that they said I should be ... that the sins that they could rightfully lay at my feet were likely less by virtue of my years than those they had committed.&nbsp; I had lusted, I had had unkind thoughts, I occasionally stole a pastry from the kitchens when the baker's attention was diverted, I had dozed and daydreamed during long, tedious sermons ..."</em><br><br>Mercy shrugged, the shadows of that pain in her expression.&nbsp; <em>"Mother had heard my father's cry, and ... for the first time, she let me sense her presence.&nbsp; I ... called out for her, and she came ... straight through all their wards ... though some could and did hurt her.&nbsp; &nbsp; It seemed to me then that I had never seen a more beautiful sight, a bright angel of blade and fury.&nbsp; She reached out her hand, and told me that she could not free me from the holy bonds they had bound me with, but she could show me how to free myself.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did, and we fled, together, through the shadows, just as the paladins and priests pushed through the outer door.&nbsp; The last thing I saw before the path closed behind us was that my half-brother was the first through that door ... and he had not come to say tender farewells."</em><br><br>She left off toying with Lucius' hair, and cupped her glass in both hands, looking down into the liquid reflectively.&nbsp; <em>"It was a long time ago ... but I have never felt as if I have finished repaying the corrupt priests of Amalthea for their kindness in full.&nbsp; From time to time, I take great pleasure in exposing their deeds, foiling their grabs for power and gold, or taking away one of their favorite toys.&nbsp; I have no quarrel with the righteous among them ... or the Lady herself ...&nbsp; in part, that is why I came here.&nbsp; &nbsp;I did not know of my mother's presence until I opened my senses to look for a demon.&nbsp; Hers is not the same aura as theirs, not now ... but I can recognize her as easily as she can no doubt sense me when she wishes."</em><br><em><br>"The cycles continue turning, whether we do aught but ride or seek to guide the path."</em><br><br>For a moment, she slipped comfortably into her priestly mantle, repeating part of The Eternal Flame, soothing the memories with the wisdom ... and then she drained the rest of her drink in a series of short swallows, wincing a little at the burn ... all the while keeping her eyes on Lucius' face as if she desired to read him like some delightfully risque tome that nonetheless held hidden secrets and wisdoms.&nbsp; It seemed to her that perhaps he did, and her own curiosity had only grown rather than faded.<br><em><br>"Have I dissuaded you yet, Lucius?&nbsp; Or does your curiosity only grow, as does mine?"</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-12-2014, 12:11:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan listened to Jazelle's explanation, quickly realizing that she was far more complicated than he had assumed. She wasn't just some demon-creature out to raise hell at the behest of some greater demonic lord. Instead, by her own words, she was bound by something -completely- different now. She could not kill without reason? She could not betray, lie, or break faith? And if she did, the magic that bound her such – while also keeping her free of the abyss – would unwind itself. And this would have the consequence of making her no longer invisible to her kind, and sooner or later...<br><br>“Sooner or later -what-?” he asked, picking up where she left off. He wanted to know -everything-, especially if it would allow him to assist her in staying out of trouble.<br><br>She answered his question with a question of her own. -Should- it matter what she looked like when he took her? He supposed if he knew it was Jazelle, and -she- understood it was her that he desired, then her appearance likely should not matter. But quickly he was shaking his head when she made mention of taking the form of the one woman he had loved before.<br><br>“No... I would not like that at all,” he quickly said. But already, Jazelle's eyes were darkening, and he knew exactly what she was thinking, or at the very least he had a pretty good idea. He could imagine what her reaction would be if Duncan asked her to take the appearance of someone else with whom he had some sort of previous attachment to. He would never do such a thing, no matter who the person might have been. Right now, Duncan was beyond his past conquests – and failures. He did not long for any of them, nor did he give any of them much thought. <br><br>Softly her voice spoke again, asking him not to ask such things of her, and he nodded and brushed her lips with his own. “Never,” he replied gently. She went on to explain that the form she wore would be hers alone to surprise him with, to please him, but not to deceive – and he nodded in understanding and definitely in agreement with her.<br><br>“That is all I ask, as well,” he reiterated. “You in your true form when possible. When not possible, or when you have some... surprise in mind, then any form you choose beyond that would suit me well. As long as I know it is you, my sweet Jazelle... then you will not hear me give a single complaint.”<br><br>He smiled gently, then, when she spoke of burning for -him-. “Then since we both feel the flames of desire for one another... let us sink into the furnace together...,” he glanced to the side for a moment, towards the archway that led out of his bedroom.<br><br>“Quietly...” he said, giving her a crooked grin as his hips moved – seeking to invade her -furnace- with his fiery brand, his lips descending on hers, and no longer did it feel 'odd' to him that it was 'Lady Valerian's' body he was about to plunder. He knew in his heart, his mind, that it was Jazelle beneath it all, and it was Jazelle with whom he wanted to expend his passion...<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius, too, was listening to the woman speaking to him as Mercy shared more of the details surrounding herself, first confirming that she had indeed done many of the things Lucius himself would have thought to do had he possessed her ability. It was not lost upon him how -dangerous- she would be, even now, sitting so polite and calm next to him. But she had had opportunity, as well, to harm him and she hadn't. For the time being, until she proved otherwise, Lucius planned to trust her – though his -trust- of her mother was an entirely different matter...<br><br>With Mercy, there would always be -some- measure of humanity, even if she took moments where she subdued it completely in order to perform some feat of wickedness. Jazelle was under no such constraints. Just like the succubus that had attacked him in his chambers, Jazelle was not bound by humanity whatsoever, despite having a half-human daughter. He was still worried about Jazelle's true intentions, and he was obviously still worried about Duncan.<br><br>But then Mercy was moving on to discuss her own 'realness'. He gave a sour look when she quoted her mother's claim that she could go from fucking an orc to a halfling in a short span of time, but likely not because of the act itself, but because of the thought of -anyone- fucking an orc. But he got the idea what she was trying to say, and as such, he understood her point.<br><br>He seemed genuinely attentive when she then spoke about her 'true form'. In essence, she sounded as if she was not one hundred percent sure that her current form -was- her true form – it could have been something she picked-up, subconsciously, at a very early age. He nodded in understanding, too, when she explained that she could enact small changes, but still large enough that theyw ould be convincing and quite noticeable.<br><br>Lucius, too, recognized the change in tenor when she began to tell her origin tale. Apparently his guess had not been far off, and Mercy explained further, in detail. It was a sad tale, heartbreaking, too, since to Lucius's ears it sounded as if Alexi would have qualified as her 'first love'. She explained how she was sentenced to die – her only 'crime' being who and what she was, not by choice – and then she described the rescue of her person conducted by her mother, snapping her from the jaws of a sure death at the hands of a sect of religious zealots, if not for her mother's timing.<br><br>And among those coming to do her harm, Alexi, her would-be love, led the way.<br><br>Mercy cupped her drink in her hands now, and Lucius wished for a moment that her hands hadn't left him so quickly. But she was still speaking serious words, and seriously was how he took them. She had obvious reason to hold disdain for the priests of Amalthea, and Lucius did not blame her at all for that.<br><br>“Just as there are good people and bad, the same can be said of priests, whether they try to convince you otherwise or not,” he said. “There are some priests who truly believe in what they do, who truly attempt to make the world a better place even if it comes at great sacrifice. But there are also priests who use their position for personal gain... and luxuries... and vices. I have seen it with my own eyes, finding myself alone with a cute little lady only to catch a glimpse of one or more of those priests enjoying fare they should not be sampling. And I have heard enough rumors about their dungeons to believe that there is at least -some- truth to them. As they say, where there is smoke, there is usually fire...”<br><br>He noticed she had downed the rest of her drink, and figured she was at least buzzing by now – unless the demonic part of her protected her from the effects. Lucius did not know if that would be a bane or a boon, to be able to ignore the effects of alcohol.<br><br>At her questions, though, he shook his head.<br><br>“Nay, Mercy. You would have to work much harder to dissuade me from looking at you with a keen interest. And, in fact, your tales only intensify my own curiosity and interest in you. I will admit, I am no paladin, nor am I likely half the man your half-brother was, but I'd like to think that I have some redeeming qualities of my own,” he said with a half-grin on his lips.<br><br>He paused for a moment, setting his half-emptied glass aside. “Would you possibly be willing to join me for a quick dip in Duncan's private pool? Part of the keep is situated over a heated spring, and he has a room with a pool designed to take advantage of that.” <br><br>Slowly, Lucius rose to his feet. If she was not interested, he would not guide her there. But if she was willing, he would. Besides... it would give him the perfect excuse to wash the remnants of the succubus from his person.<br><br>He offered her his hand. “We could relax there, and continue our discussion. You would not have to enter, if you did not wish to, though it would make such discussions all the more... intimate,” he said, smiling fully at her by that point.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>27-12-2014, 05:33:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"I would become what I was, controlled by my hungers, driven back to the abyss, bound to whatever master strong enough to keep me ... or destroyed." </em> Of the two choices, Jazelle would prefer the latter ... though perhaps she would not, in time, remember what it had been like to be free.&nbsp; &nbsp;Likely, should it come to pass, the choice would not be hers, and that she feared most of all.<br><br>Below him, Jazelle looked up into her General's warm, dark eyes as he processed and accepted her assurances, her certainty, that she remained the same in all that mattered, no matter what form she took.&nbsp; That was all the more true as Duncan had seen her in her natural form, had taken her thus, and desired her all the more for knowing what she was.<br><br>What she felt was all the sweeter, for in her own mind, she was no different for the shape that she wore ... and tempting Duncan with every ability at her disposal, including inviting his exploration and delights in those shapes, was something that she would have regretted had he continued to be reluctant.<br><br><em>"Quietly,"</em> she agreed, her eyes closing as his mouth found hers in a soft, sweet kiss as she felt the first, heated press of the head of his manhood, flush and hot, the skin tight as a drum with his desire for her.&nbsp; Aside from the soft rustle of the sheets, the only sound she made as he sank into her depths was a long, indrawn breath against his mouth as her nails ... Lady Alerian's rounded, polished, smooth nails ... raked gently down his shoulders and arms.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em><br>"I bear no enmity to those priests who are true to their vows, or for those who live by the tenets of their religion rather than hiding behind it, Lucius. They have my respect, especially those who resist the temptations offered by their brethren.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet those who use their supposed holiness to conceal their crimes, I take great pleasure in exposing their sins to the world, or sending them to answer to their god in person.&nbsp; I consider it ... an honor."</em>&nbsp; Mercy's voice was soft, even gentle, as she confessed her self-appointed purpose.<br><br><em>"Humility, Lucius?&nbsp; That is a quality that I would not have expected you to possess, save perhaps as a device to win the favors of some gentle lady who has it in her head that she would be the first to recognize his true worth.&nbsp; I already know that you are no paladin ... for that I am almost prepared to drop to my knees and give fervent thanks to whatever force that imbued you with an unquenchable thirst for pleasure."</em><br><br>As she spoke, Mercy looked down at her empty glass, an eyebrow climbing toward her hairline as she wondered where her mother's lover acquired his spirits.&nbsp; &nbsp; It seemed that they were better than she had credited, to have her speaking so.<br><em><br>"Ah, this general has a private pool as well?&nbsp; I do love a man with influential friends ... I would commend my mother's good taste, but ..." </em> Mercy's eyebrow climbed just a tad further as her head cocked a bit, and she pushed a bit of her hair away from her ear as she turned it in the direction of the bedroom. <em> "I do not think compliments would be well-received at the moment.&nbsp; Perhaps allowing them a bit of privacy, while securing our own, would not be amiss."</em><br><br>While not exactly squeamish, Mercy was selfish enough not to wish to share her lovers even in such a small way with another ... most especially a succubus that had not even the patience and good sense to enjoy a man who did not consider his lover's pleasure the merest of happenstance.<br><br>Mercy laid her hand in Lucius' outstretched fingers, and rose.&nbsp; The first step, as she righted herself was fairly unsteady, but it took only a moment find her focus.&nbsp; <em>"Lead on ..."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>27-12-2014, 12:25:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan shook his head slowly in response to her words. Controlled by her hungers? Driven back to the abyss? Bound to a new master who might want... anything from her? Or... destroyed? <br><br>“No,” he whispered, and the faint look of alarm on his face in that moment was genuine. “We can not let that happen. -<em>I</em>- won't let that happen. I won't be the cause of any of those things happening, and if I have anything to say about it, I won't let any of those things happen while I am around,” he said. Of course, deep down, he knew he had little control over those things. She was as foreign to him as the 'real' Lady Valerian might be, if she even existed. This wizard who held so much sway over her... he didn't like it. But at her request – he had to endure it and would not press her on it.<br><br>“I would come for you,” he said, without any humor in his voice. “I would force Valerian to open a tear in the fabric of reality, and I would come to the abyss to find you... no matter the cost,” he whispered as he looked down into her human eyes, his hand brushing along the side of her human face as he paused for a moment in their seduction to tell her this. He <em>meant</em> it, too. Even if some creature devoured his very soul, he'd still make the attempt, and he'd go down fighting. It was as close as he had come to simply telling her he loved her, and he understood she might take it that way. But he meant it to show her how important she was to him... yet he couldn't help but wonder how many dozens of men before him had made the same claim. Would she be rolling her eyes internally at his words, having heard them all before? Would she be laughing at him behind her eyelids?<br><br>He suddenly felt like a young boy crushing on his art and history instructor – which, incidentally, he had when he was thirteen. She had laughed at him then for making such fanciful claims, was Jazelle mentally laughing at him now as he made claims about things he truly knew nothing about? Or would she understand his words and the true meaning behind them?<br><br>The small reluctance he had showed dissolved fairly quickly, at least on the surface, after she had shared her explanation. Mentally, he had no qualms with it, truly, unless -she- did. More than once in his life a lover had claimed he was -thinking- of another woman in the throes of passion. Duncan had never been crass enough, even accidentally, to call a woman by the wrong name, nor had he ever expressed a desire for any lover to look differently than she had – even if internally he had wished for larger breasts, longer hair, a more full figure... He wasn't as brutally honest as some men, apparently, but he certainly had found himself on the other end of the spectrum, for sure.<br><br>The last thing he wanted, though, was for Jazelle to feel that desired a 'fake' woman who did not exist, when in reality – he desired -<em>her</em>-. Pure and simple, horns, wings, claws and all.<br><br>'Quietly', she had said – which told him many things, chief of which was her desire for their 'activities' not to draw attention. Perhaps she was simply worried about her daughter listening in, or perhaps she feared that if the others knew that Jazelle and Duncan were making the beast with two backs, they might be angry that the two of them were not taking things -seriously-. Whatever the reason, he could respect it....<br><br>To a point.<br><br>“Quiet?” he echoed back. “Do you really think you can <em>-be-</em> quiet? Are my skills so lacking that you can simply avoid it?” he whispered in challenge just as his lips met hers, the hint of a smile pressed against her lips as he slowly sank into her, easing his thickness past the gates of her body and deep into her in one slow, unstoppable stroke. He felt her nails – her human nails – drag down along his skin. One of his hands pressed against the bed, holding most of his weight above her, while his other hand slid around her slender waist to the small of her back and gently lifted, causing her back to arch a bit more – allowing him to fill her just that much more. <br><br>He set quickly into a deep, driving rhythm, as if attempting to overwhelm her senses straight from the start, tongues locked together, his hand beneath her back providing support and leverage to lift her in slight ways that allowed him to plow into her more smoothly – and deeper. He obviously sought her sweet-spot with the head of his engorged member, and it would become very clear, very early, that he was obviously seeking to make her anything -but- quiet...<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>“Priest or smith, stablehand or farmer... each man and woman has their own path to follow. But those who readily break sworn vows for personal gain, those who pay lip service to religious figure-heads that people give their faith to, those who do these things and betray the people they are supposed to serve? Those are men that I despise most of all,” he said, an obvious look of distaste on his face. “Like you, I enjoy exposing them. At least on the field of battle, there -is- no deception in that regard – your enemy is your enemy: he can not lie about it, he can not deceive you as he stands bearing the colors and standards of his people, his blade leveled at you just as yours is leveled back. There are no hurled promises or deceptions, no lies. Men who live like that – priest or otherwise – are not really men at all,” he said.<br><br>“And just as well you should consider it an honor. I dare say I wish there were more like you here in our very own kingdom, for there are plenty of those types of 'priest' here, I am certain of it. Not to mention... more of you around would provide me with far more entertaining evenings, I would wager,” he said, giving her a wink. But despite his playful words, the first had obviously been said with a full heart.<br><br>Lucius chuckled though, when she suggested he was displaying humility. “Oh, humility is for the wise – and for those who have faced their own mortality. For me, I have faced my own death several times, the worst of which was just a couple years ago. Run though completely by a spear, I was, and no healer in sight. When one was finally found, he was one that I recognized, one of those men who had cursed me openly before for being a 'nuisance of the public good'. He didn't -want- to heal me. He wanted to let me slip away, I could see it in his eyes, could see it in the way his hands trembled and hesitated. It was only the raised blade of my general that... 'convinced' the priest to do his duty. And... here I am,” he smiled with a slight flourish.<br><br>“Yet that incident, and several before, have taught me humility, my dear Mercy. But like many emotions – anger, rage, tears, even arousal – there is a time and place for all things. On some matters I will be as audacious as you might expect, but in those situations I tend to be confident that I can back up my claims. In other matters, I can be as humble as the lowliest priest, if I know the matter to be above my ken. I have learned my limits, dear lady. Ten years ago, I would not have been able to make such a claim,” he said with a grin.<br><br>“Now, as far as you being grateful enough to drop to your knees and give 'fervent thanks' for my unquenchable thirst for pleasure...,” he smiled brightly, shrugging slightly. “You are most welcome to do so at any time, and I would do my very best to make you feel -<em>most</em>- welcome,” he said, blatantly suggestive. He could clearly imagine it - her dark, beautiful eyes looking up at him as her lips struggled to encompass his girth... “But... you -did- say you were <em>-almost-</em> prepared to do that. Damn,” he said, snapping his fingers in fake disappointment. “My desire for passion has always been quite unquenchable, though. I must admit that much, at least.”<br><br>“Yes, being one of the most important men in the kingdom, Duncan has several luxuries that the rest of us mere mortals could only dream of,” he said, though there was no real resentment in his tone at all. “The king has a pool and a bath built the same way. These pools and baths were built long ago, though, not recently for Duncan himself, but for his predecessors. Still, it definitely does come in handy when trying to lure in a young beauty to return to his chambers with him – or his friends,” he winked, taking her hand gently as she rose to her feet. He saw the unsteadiness at first, and his hand tightened slightly just to make sure she did not falter, but she didn't, and his grip relaxed once more.<br><br>“And I like the way you think... privacy for them, privacy for us, but still within range of a good scream, should evil come calling,” he sniggered. He obviously wasn't making light of the situation... well, maybe he was a little, but the seriousness of it was not lost upon him. <br><br>She urged him to lead on – and unless she pulled her hand away, he gently held onto hers and did just as she asked, slowly guiding her out of the room and down the hallway toward the room he had described.<br><br>“Surely there is more to you than finding and punishing criminal-priests who abuse their position,” he said as they walked. “Surely you have wants... needs... desires... that go beyond serving this deity you mention? You have goals... ambitions... plans? Or is it a life of hunting and reaping vengeance that you seek?” he asked, looking sideways at her curiously.<br><br>A moment later they arrived in front of a set of sliding doors, and he reached out a hand and pushed one of them to the side. The room inside was slightly steamy, a fancifully decorated room, dimly lit by a single faint red stone at one end of the chamber that cast a rosy pallor about the room. The marbled surfaces – walls, floors, columns – were white in color, though in the dimness they appeared almost pink in hue. <br><br>“During the day, there is far more natural light, of course, making the place appear a bit more cheerful. At night, the light is provided by these stones that have existed here for as long as we remember. Duncan was told they were made by mages.”<br><br>He guided her inside, then closed the door shut quietly behind them. <br><br>“Right now, there is a vent above, unseen, in the ceiling where the steam is funneled. The vent can be closed, which then fills the room with steam in short order, if you desire a warmer setting. I absolutely love coming here when I've got a bit of a head-cold, as the heat and steam help to clear-...,” he trailed off, waving at his face for a moment, then suddenly felt a bit silly.<br><br>“Anyway, it's all neat and interesting, and I'm sure he's brought quite a few of his lady-friends here, unless I am mistaken,” he chuckled, moving over to a bench along one wall. A shelf above the bench held a half dozen neatly folded dark-colored towels, and a half-dozen hooks held a half-dozen dark-colored robes. Standing by the bench, a hand extended to the wall to hold his balance, Lucius began to kick off his boots.<br><br>“Stories about the hot springs tell of the small cracks that lead down to the center of the world,” he said, turning to face her as he reached down and pulled his shirt up and over his head, then tossed it onto the bench. “Some say those cracks lead straight to hell, which explains why the water is so warm. Somehow, I doubt that is true – if it was, I'd have figured that the water would be scalding hot as a warning to any who might contemplate a journey to such a place, in this life or the next.”<br><br>He smiled at her as his hands unbuckled his sword belt, then set it aside with a muffled thud as he set it on the bench near his shirt, his boots kicked beneath it. Then his hands moved to his waist, to undo the buttons of his pants without hesitation.<br><br>“You can join me, if you wish – I promise you that the water is -not- holy water of any kind, nor is it too hot for relaxation,” he said, and his pants dropped, pushed down gently with his hands as they passed his strong thighs and then fell the rest of the way by their own weight. He stepped out of them, nude, just as she had seen him before. But rather than his mast being solid and straight, it was partially aroused now, still quite lengthy, but hanging low as if only half-awake. Casually, he approached the pool's nearest edge.<br><br>It was rectangular in shape, over a dozen feet wide and half again as long, there were steps along the long-ends of the rectangle, steps that led down into the water. No steps were seen at the shorter ends. Once could sit on the steps at varying depths, or walk in the deeper portion that ran through the middle of the pool. Lucius approached the edge and checked it with a toe.<br><br>“Perfect. Every single time,” he said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, then slowly began the process of entering, one step after another, though he often glanced back at Mercy to see if she would remain outside – or if she might join him. Should she decide to join, of course, he would pause his own movements – and openly stare at her, especially if she chose to remove any of her clothing in the process...
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>27-12-2014, 22:29:58</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><em><br>"We won't let that happen," </em>Jazelle agreed, smiling gently as Duncan's words rose up in her defense. <em> "I have even more reason now ... to keep my word." </em>&nbsp; Even more passionate, even more sincere, was his immediate avowal that he would follow her even to the abyss.&nbsp; Wonder of wonders, he meant it.&nbsp; &nbsp;She knew that he did, and again she felt ... something ... that she could not name, affection, certainly, and admiration ..<br><br>He did not know what he promised, and would that he would forever remain ignorant of it.&nbsp; <em>"No ... should it come to that, I will not be this Jazelle, but a monster.&nbsp; Do not fear, Duncan.&nbsp; I will not fail, not with you to keep me strong."</em><br><br>In response to his challenge, she smiled faintly herself against his mouth.&nbsp; <em>"Your skills are not lacking," </em>she admitted, the whisper breaking for a moment as he reached beneath her, angling her to fit the fullness of his thrust.&nbsp; <em>"But my will is strong."&nbsp; </em> Challenge to challenge, it was a contest with no losers, save for perhaps those in an awkward proximity.&nbsp; Lucius was no stranger to hearing Duncan expend his passions -- or so it would seem -- and Mercy made little secret of her own conquests.&nbsp; Perhaps it was Jazelle's fancy alone that made the idea awkward, even as she wondered how long it would be before her daughter acted upon her own attraction to Duncan's second.<br><br>Yet it seemed that the two of them had taken matters into their own hands, as her sensitive ears picked up the soft opening and closing of the door.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps some of Lucius' concerns had been allayed ... and none of them were defenseless should another attack come.&nbsp; The last tension drained from Jazelle's body as she opened herself fully to Duncan's thrusts, wrapping him in her body's loving grip.<br><br>Even as his body rocked hers in wave after wave of intoxicating bliss, she fought, eyes gleaming with heated mischief, to muffle her own cries --- biting her lip, catching Duncan's shoulder in her teeth,&nbsp; pushing her head back full into the pillow as her teeth bit down.&nbsp; There was no need for it now, but ... a challenge was, after all, a challenge.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br><em>"From the sound of it, Mother seems to be doing her part to grant your wish,"</em> Mercy observed, her voice a conspiratorial whisper as she picked up certain sounds from the direction of the bedroom.&nbsp; <em>"Though it would be a bit of a wait ... I matured a bit earlier than some, but not THAT much earlier."</em><br><br>Now that would be interesting.&nbsp; She found herself wondering what her mother would do if she found herself 'with child' again.&nbsp; Once, earlier, she had asked Jazelle if she had other sisters running around, but the answer had been a simple 'no' that suggested no stories behind it.&nbsp; Would Jazelle think herself capable of raising a child, particularly if the father was not a married priest but a warrior who seemed as if he took his duties rather seriously? <br><br>Being a priest, and one who was not always precisely judicious about whose seed was sewn, she had long ago taken certain precautions.&nbsp; Being a 'sister' ... or perhaps a 'faux-aunt' might be fun, but motherhood was not yet in any of her plans, unless Phaenix willed it.&nbsp; &nbsp; The will of her god was not something she would discount lightly, but she WOULD make certain it was his will rather than accident -- she had too often seen people spout 'the will of the gods' to cover their own irresponsibilities.&nbsp; The gods, she was certain, had better things to do than to direct every minute aspect of their followers lives.<br><br>It did not surprise her to hear that one of the priests had denied Lucius healing, nor that his general had compelled it by sword-point.&nbsp; Hopefully, he had left a scar or two upon the priest to remind him of his vows.&nbsp; Amalthea required her priests to provide succor and comfort to the wounded, even those who followed other paths.&nbsp; Phaenix had no such requirements, but Mercy would have endured the pain that such castings brought to heal any warrior who had served with distinction upon the battlefield -- were he strong enough to endure it.<br><br>A coward, a deserter, a traitor, she owed them no such ... and certainly not at the cost of her own pain.&nbsp; Whatever Lucius was, she would wager without hesitation that he was none of those.<br><br><em>"I serve my god," </em>she answered simply as she followed Lucius down the short distance to the doors he indicated, her bootless feet making but a whisper of sound upon the stone. <em> "So long as my wants, needs and desires further that goal, or do not detract from it, I am free to do as I please ... yet, what I please is for His prophecies to be again fulfilled.&nbsp; &nbsp; That does not mean that there is no room for pleasure ... for family, for love, for friendships, for worthy endeavors ... in my life.&nbsp; Yet, first and foremost, when He requires it, I am His priestess.&nbsp; &nbsp;Vengeance and the like ... are merely a pleasant hobby, a diversion."</em><br><br>As Lucius pushed open the door and entered, explaining the construction and use of the bath, Mercy let the door close behind them and leaned against the door while she took it all in, bearing most of her weight in a lazy fashion upon her heels and ass, propped against the wood.&nbsp; Almost absently, she searched through her pockets for a bit of iron and a pinch of rust, pulling her holy symbol from beneath her leathers with her free hand as she listened to Lucius' suppositions of the bath's uses in luring women.&nbsp; &nbsp;A few soft words invoking Phaenix's protection, and she felt the heat of his divine touch in the wood and its fastenings -- none would be able to barge in accidentally.&nbsp; &nbsp;Given the goings on in the keep, such a simple precaution seemed more than reasonable.<br><br><em>"The invention of stories is as old as time itself.&nbsp; Most of the actual explanations for such things are of interest only to wizards, gnomes, and engineers ... so bards and warriors, and other simple folk ..." </em> Mercy gave Lucius a lazy smile to reassure that she teased ... <em>"make up much more entertaining stories to entertain.&nbsp; &nbsp;If the waters came here from Hel ... there would be no doubt of it.&nbsp; Such passages would be put to use by more than water, even if the scent alone did not give it away."<br></em><br>She assumed that the enchantment on the stones was a simple but useful spell, the color coming from a property in the stone.&nbsp; She rather admired the effect, as it gave the room a faintly illicit room, one that brothels would likely kill to emulate.<br><br>As Lucius removed his boots, shirt, belt, and pants, Mercy watched with interest that was undimmed by having seen him previously unadorned, as the tendrils of steam and the first true flickerings of desire began to burn away the lingering effects of the general's excellent spirits.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did nothing at all until he had made his way down into the pool, sinking in to a comfortable position.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was, after all, a nice view, and she was in no hurry.&nbsp; From the sound of it, it would be a while before her mother and Duncan were finished, and while she had no real objection to being a auditory voyeur ...<br><br>When Lucius raised his head to look in her direction, Mercy very deliberately began undoing the clasps upon her leather jacket, and then the lacings of the tight shirt beneath.&nbsp; In the stone's light, her shirt was red as hearts'-blood, and her pale skin and dark hair tinged with the same hue.&nbsp; With no sign of embarrassment at all, her fingers busied themselves until the edges of her blouse separated, and she helped them along with her hands, pushing cloth and leather apart to frame the fullness of her breasts.&nbsp; &nbsp;As Lucius watched, Mercy paused a moment to position her holy symbol to its best effect, nestled between her generous cleavage, and then ran her fingers lightly over the nipples as if to rouse her own passions further from slumber ... though in truth the situation had already mostly taken care of that.<br><br>With as little hurry, she undid the fastenings of her black leather pants, which were already becoming a bit sticky-feeling with the steam in the room.<em>&nbsp; "Why don't you close that vent you mentioned," </em>she suggested as she coaxed the material down her hips, moving to ease the process almost as if dancing, her hips swaying in an intentionally seductive to and fro motion that emphasized the dark shadow beneath thin, now rose-tinted undergarment that she left on for the moment. <em> "Neither of us seem afflicted with a head cold, but ... I sense that we're going to steam things up anyway.&nbsp; Why not do it right?"<br></em><br>When the pants succumbed to her efforts, she bent to deal with her stockings, her breasts hanging full and free as she gathered her discarded pants and laid them on the convenient shelf.&nbsp; The jacket followed, and finally the shirt, until she was left with only a scrap of thin white linen that revealed about as much as it hid.&nbsp; The linen was held with a thin tie that Mercy teased loose by small degrees as she sauntered over to the pool, dipping a long-nailed toe into the water to test the temperature.&nbsp; <em>"Mmmm,"</em> she murmured approvingly, holding the pose as the tie gave way and the final scrap of cloth on her body was drawn away and casually tossed to the damp stone.<br><br>Once the robes had been discarded, there was little about Mercy's shape that could not be intuited.&nbsp; Now nude, she was simply moreso -- an hourglass shape with a trim waist, generous hips and breasts, arms, thighs and calves that suggested she was no stranger to the full use of her body.&nbsp; &nbsp;The succubus bloodline was strong, lending itself to the beauty of all who bore it.&nbsp; Of course, without her will to prevent it, Mercy's acceptance of that bloodline also granted her other vestigial signs of her origins ... but those, she would not reveal without reason, not given Lucius' recent experiences and fears about Jazelle.<br><br>When she had given him ample opportunity to satisfy his curiosity -- as much as he had given her -- Mercy continued to sink down in the water, choosing a spot that would cover her sitting form to mid-breast and far enough away to tempt Lucius' gaze, if he were so inclined, but would require at least a little effort put forth to touch.<br><br><em>"How do I compare?" </em>she asked lazily as she leaned back, flicking the water with an idle finger as her eyes met Lucius'.&nbsp; After all, he'd already got to see two human-formed succubi naked, and a succubus in full, unbridled fury.&nbsp; She was curious to know how she ranked in his estimation ... if he liked her mother's more ... sophisticated, unthreatening look ... or her own more aggressive, in your face type of sultry.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could do the 'untouchable' brand of pretty, but it always felt a bit constricting.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>28-12-2014, 12:39:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle seemed to be in complete agreement with him. Together, they wouldn't let any of those negative things happen, they wouldn't allow her to fall. She -did- have more reason now to keep her word, especially if she valued her freedom which Duncan firmly believed she did. Even if he wasn't in her life, she still wanted her freedom, of that he was certain. What free-thinking creature -wouldn't- value its autonomy?<br><br>Her next words, describing herself as a -monster-, sent a chill down his spine. Would she even -recognize- him, if it came to that? Duncan's romantic side said she would, swore that he could speak softly to her and snap her out of whatever mind-fuckery she was suffering from. But his logical side said no – she'd be a -demon- once more, in heart and in soul, and she would devour him as easily as man might devour a grape. -Not- because she was more powerful than him, but because Duncan already knew he could not bring himself to harm her.<br><br>Duncan smiled and nodded. “I will help keep you strong in whatever way I can,” he promised softly. “If -ever- there is a way I can aid you... you need but ask. Know this, Jazelle. And do not hesitate to ask.” The last thing he wanted was for something terrible to happen to her, something that he could have helped to prevent in some way. He had no idea what that could be, but nevertheless he still wanted to be sure she knew that he would help her however he could.<br><br>Their talk changed from the serious to the playful, and it seemed to him that -both- of them had eased their tensions in response to it. She confirmed that his skills were not lacking – but that her own will was strong. He smirked at that, nodding slowly to -accept- yet another playful challenge with her, another -game- of sorts. Duncan had no idea the others had left, his attentions focused solely on the woman beneath him, his senses not as attuned as Jazelle's was to be able to tell or hear such things. But he could feel the last bit of tension drain from her body as if her body were slowly giving in to him, and of course – that turned him on even more.<br><br>The deep, full thrusts grew longer, sending his hips pressing against her inner thighs, pressing her against his bed. He pulled out the stops, eager to win this little contest, feeling her muffle her cries in denying him the easy, quick victory – which was fine with him. The -best- victories were the ones that required the most effort. He caught her biting her lip, he felt her teeth on his shoulder as he thrust into her at a certain angle, she threw her head back as his hips lowered, brushing the smooth helmet of his cock up against her frontal wall, seeking her g-spot as if homing in on it like a relentless hunter.<br><br>He smiled, as if he had already won or was about to – but he also knew that he would need to win -soon-, or it would be her knowing smile that taunted him as he cried out in ecstasy...<br><br>So, he decided to 'cheat'.... lowering his free hand down the front of her body, his fingers slipping between them easily as they sought - and found - the pearl of pleasure hidden just beneath her mound. His fingers took to it sweetly even as his hips still moved back and forth, driving into he with authority, long, strong strokes as his fingers immediately took to stroking her.<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy mentioned her mother doing her part to grant his wish, and Lucius gave her a soft chuckle in response. “I hope... that it does not offend you, that your mother... puts me at a certain level of discomfort,” he said as politely as he could manage, choosing his words carefully. “Being that one of her kind recently tried to 'fuck me to death', and being that your mother's playmate is my closest friend and the closest thing to a brother I've ever had... I worry, sometimes, too much,” he admitted with a slight bow of his head. “I would plead for her to... not harm him, mentally or physically, and I would plead with you to convince her of the same, if you hold any sway over her, but... I know she is a demon, and you are demon-kin, so... my pleas would likely be ignored.”<br><br>Again, there was no resentment in his tone, only a gentle acceptance of the realities of the situation.<br><br>He listened intently when she described what she did, what her devotion meant to her as far as doing her duty for her deity. When she finished, he nodded. “It is very similar, then, to how I feel about my position as Duncan's second,” he said. “I serve him, at least in times of war, and by extension I serve our King. So long as my wants, needs, and desires further is goals, or do not detract from it, I am free to do as I please. There is ample room for pleasure, of course, and even for family, love and the like. Indeed, many of my comrades have a wife, many of them have offspring. But, when it is required of me, I am his second, without hesitation. Everything else is, as you say, a pleasant hobby or diversion.”<br><br>It struck him as odd in that the comparison was actually quite accurate, yet Lucius certainly did not put Duncan – or even the King – on the same level as a deity.<br><br>Lucius gave no sign of rejection when Mercy set about preparing a ward for the door. He watched in fascination as she prepared the spell and spoke soft words. She then turned her attention back to him, in response to his descriptions about the springs that lay beneath the keep. He smiled at her as she referred to him and his kind a 'simple folk', and he nodded as she used logic to explain that this quite obviously could not be a gateway to Hel. She was likely correct, of course, but a she herself knew by being a priestess, the potency of belief could be a powerful thing.<br><br>Lucius took his place in the pool, sitting on one of the steps shallow enough that kept most of his torso exposed above the water's surface, his arms spread to either side to rest along the ledge that he now leaned against. His yes, of course, were openly glued to her. He had no need of 'shy peeking' or pretending to not be looking. If she wished privacy – she'd say as much, but without those words, he drank in the sight of her as she began to go about her business. <br><br>She moved deliberately, as if intending to make a show of it – and he was all too happy to be her audience. Her shirt parted, his eyes focused even more closely as she repositioned her holy symbol, and then noticed her fingers brush over her own nipples as if to tease -herself-. Lucius sighed – he so truly admired a woman who wasn't afraid to touch herself in the presence of a man – so many women seemed to think that such a thing was shameful, when in reality, it put even more solid lead into his own arousal, and he wondered if women in general understood the effect such innocent touches to their own bodies might have on others.<br><br>Lucius was fairly certain that Mercy understood this, -fully-.<br><br>As Mercy began to work at her pants, she suggested that he seal the vent that he he described to her. He heard her suggestion, of course, but his eyes were glued to her hands – then her thighs as they became exposed. The movement of her hips was captivating, just as she likely intended it, he knew. He did not in response to her question, of course. Neither of them were suffering from any ailments he was cognizant of – unless one considered palpable arousal as being an 'ailment'.<br><br>He watched further as she bent over to work at her stockings, his eyes roaming upward to devour the sight of her breasts hanging heavy and free as she gathered up her breeches as well as her other clothing, laying them on the nearby shelf. This left her wearing nothing but a teasingly small bit of linen across her crotch, though even in the dim light he could make out the dark patch beneath it. One of her hands slowly pulled at the tie that bound it to her body, this last bit of protection that she wore from his gaze as she approached the water's edge. A moment later, that last scrap was gently pulled away and discarded to the side, finally leaving her completely nude before him. Her response to dipping a toe into the water seemed to indicate she was fine with the water's heat, and silently he was grateful for that.<br><br>She was gorgeous, of course. When it came down to it, she was more beautiful than 'Lady Alerian' was, though somewhere in Lucius's mind he ascribed that to her being who and -what- she was. She was not a 'normal' woman by any means, just as Jazelle was not, either. Her body was -made- to be perfect, or a facsimile there of, a seductive body chiseled from a block of perfection, and Lucius had been with enough women to realize the obvious difference between her and 'regular' women. <br><br>Mercy was no regular woman.<br><br>All too soon, she was lowering herself into the water to sit along the steps across from him – out of his reach, but obviously not out of sight. Was she -trying- to tease him, then? To tempt him? Now that she had seated herself and was no longer visible above the water's surface, only then did Lucius twist his body slightly and reach back to gently touch a small onyx gem that was embedded in the wall next to the glowing red gem that provided the dim light for the room. Almost immediately, the steam in the room began to slowly thicken.<br><br>Turning back around to face her, he listened as she asked how she compared. That simple question could be taken in different ways, and he thought it over for a moment before he responded.<br><br>“I could heap flattery upon you in huge amounts, but like your mother – I assume you are rather desensitized to such tactics, and you would likely simply discard it as mere flattery and nothing more. Or, I could slip over beside you, and guide your hand to my manhood so that you could find out for yourself the answer to your question – yet again, you could claim my reaction would be the same for any woman daring enough to walk naked before me,” he added, the obvious hint of mischief in his voice.<br><br>“Instead... I will answer you with the simple truth, which I will swear any oath to affirm. You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon. I did not think I could possibly wish to pleasure and explore you even more than I already did, but... you have proven me wrong,” he said, a thin smile on his lips as&nbsp; he gazed at her across the water.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-12-2014, 17:33:10</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Once they were alone again, Jazelle had no real need to be quiet, save for the fact that she enjoyed the 'game' between them, an intimacy that added additional depth to an act she already enjoyed to a degree that eclipsed all other pleasures.<br><br>Sex was a necessity, as much as breathing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet, just as breathing can sometimes transcend the ordinary -- moments when the air is crisp and cold, enervating the body and awakening the soul -- there was more than just sex, just desire, as their bodies moved together in the primal dance.&nbsp; The challenge of their game added heat and spice, the respect and trust still more ... but the growing affections between them, the trust, and that he had wanted her so much as to bind them together as he had upon a his wager ...<br><br>These things combined to forge conditions that the succubus had never experienced.&nbsp; She had had tastes of them before, sweet dribbles of nectar that had primed her appetites, but never this.&nbsp; This was an explosion of flavors to her senses that encompassed more than lust, more than her body's senses, more than taste, sight, scent, touch, and hearing.&nbsp; It was more, even, than her sense of his aura, that lovely sweet halo that heralded his presence in yet another dimension.<br><br>"Scoundrel," she admonished with a gasp, as his hand slid between them, finding her slick, wet center and teasing it, even as the hard and steady thrusts of his hips drove his fingers firmly against the sensitive button in a rhythm that she was ill-disposed to interrupt.<br><br>Jazelle's head, softened by the thick, honey-colored mane of hair that she'd assumed, lifted to Duncan's throat, her lips fastening hungrily on the pulse-point that beat so strongly there.&nbsp; Her tongue flicked out, tasting the earthy salt-sweat that had formed there from his body and the air itself, reminding her of her sanctuary where she had first known his lips.&nbsp; Her teeth nipped, gripping the skin, gently for just a moment, before her tongue again lapped, muffling another moan as his hips forced hers down and upward against the bed.<br><em><br>"My general,"</em> she whispered, her voice heavy with satisfaction at the possessive, heavy with desire and need, as she lay back onto the bed, eyes opened to gaze up at him with human eyes, her pleasure in his body and his company naked in her eyes.&nbsp; &nbsp;Almost grimly, she fought the urge to cry out her pleasure, counting the thrusts that filled her, the little circular, jigged movements of his fingers in just the right spot.&nbsp; Ten was the goal she set for herself ... ten more thrusts ... and with each, sounds emerged from low in her throat, low gutteral sounds that bore no resemblance to words but any who were close enough to hear would surely recognize.&nbsp; At thirteen, beads of sweat were coaxed from her skin, little droplets pasting curls to her forehead, cooling the heat generated where their bodies joined and caressed.&nbsp; &nbsp;At fifteen, her body arched upward, muscles tightening and gripping with a desperate intensity as he coaxed her toward her release.&nbsp; At seventeen, she was beyond counting ...as her body simply overpowered her mind, lifting into his thrusts with abandon, moving with the rising tide of pleasure instead of fighting it.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her cry, when it came,&nbsp; was his name ... as she lost again to him without regret ...<br><br>And, as she might come to understand as she set herself to the task, she had lost even more of herself than a simple game -- but such losses were always offset by what was given in return.<br><br>Mercy would have applauded in earnest, had she been 'eavesdropping' ... but at the moment, she had her own concerns, her own pleasures, at the forefront.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Once settled into the water, feeling the heat seep into her, skin, muscle, bone, Mercy leaned back against the rock and tile with a little sigh of bliss.&nbsp; &nbsp;She flexed various muscles, a few for show, but mostly just in appreciation of being warm, comfortable, and in the first lovely stages of arousal -- a state that, barring some unwelcome intrusion, she expected would eventually heighten to a very satisfactory conclusion.<br><br>While Lucius spoke, she watched him carefully, for all the lazy-lidded expression on her face.&nbsp; He was, she thought, much more intelligent than she'd initially assessed, which was a bonus.&nbsp; Spirit and strength, endurance, were all qualities she admired, but when wisdom or intellect were too obviously lacking ... the rest palled all too quickly. <br><br><em>"Flattery is like honey.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unless you are a bee, and the production of such comprises the mainstay of your existence, it is a welcome addition to any meal in moderation.&nbsp; Plus, the liberal application for the right purposes, in the right spots ..."&nbsp; </em>Mercy accompanied her description by illustration, folding her thumb and smallest finger in so that her three longest digits pressed together as she ran them from her lips to her chin, neck, and finally her breasts, culminating in another slow tease as she arched her back to lift her breasts from the water's faint concealment.&nbsp; Lazily, and with unconcealed enjoyment, her joined fingers rubbed away the beads of water, and her touch joined with the faint chill of the air to stiffen the tips to little peaks.<br><br><em>"And I do suspect that you would stiffen for any well-formed woman who paraded naked in front of you, Lucius, especially if she did so with the hope of arousing you.&nbsp; &nbsp;That does not mean I lack an appreciation for instilling in you the very reaction I wish to invoke."</em><br><br>Beneath the water, Mercy did not hold herself in some shy pose of one who feared the heated gaze of a man upon her body, or one who wished to feign modesty.&nbsp; While she was not adamantly opposed to such games, she was just as happy to dispense with them, to deal with her desires as honestly as Lucius seemed to.&nbsp; Her thighs did not press together, but rather opened to invite the water's full attention, just as she hoped to invite Lucius' once they had at least touched upon other matters that lay between them.<br><br><em>"I do not expect my words to sway you, Lucius ... but for the sake of consideration, I offer them all the same.&nbsp; A few moments ago, you told me that there are priests who live their creed rather than mouth the words, and I have agreed that there are.&nbsp; Yet there are also men ... and women ... who, though they possess souls, have no more conscience or empathy for their fellows than demons.&nbsp; They take pleasure in others' pain, in their suffering and misery, and even forgo their own reward to punish those whose only crime is to be in their path.&nbsp; Do you disagree?"</em><br><br>While she spoke, and while she listened for whatever response the warrior cared to make, her hands were not idle.&nbsp; In the same lazy fashion, they lifted water to spill over her shoulders and upper arms, rubbed over her skin, both to cleanse and simply because she enjoyed her own hands upon her body ... and because she wished for Lucius to think of joining his touch to hers, or freeing her hands for other uses.&nbsp; The gold of her phoenix-shaped holy symbol glimmered in the light against her skin, reflecting the eerie red-tinged light with seeming glee, drawing the eye toward the orbs bobbing at the water's surface.<br><br><em>"I could claim that there are demons whose minds have been awakened to gentler emotions ... passion, friendship, empathy, love ... but that would be a gross exaggeration.&nbsp; &nbsp; While there are such demons who possess the capability of such understanding, they are FAR more rare than black-souled humans.&nbsp; &nbsp;You are wise not to trust any demon, or any born of a demon -- just as you would be not to trust that some glinting rock found on a riverbed is gold just because it is yellow in color.&nbsp; And yet ... even while admitting you would be foolish to do so based on the odds ... I ask you to consider the possibility that I might speak truth.&nbsp; My mother was a demon, and I suppose she still is, though she has been dispossessed of her connection to the lower planes.&nbsp; &nbsp;She does not feed upon lives, or souls, and she serves no dark master.&nbsp; Can your general accept that she is a succubus, and MUST sate her body's carnal appetites, she will do him no harm 'lest he offers such to her or to those to whom she is attached.&nbsp; She is bound by the magic that freed her from the abyss."</em><br><br>It was a complicated sort of thing that Mercy only vaguely comprehended -- arcane magic was not her area of study, and she possessed no innate understanding of it -- but her god's own granted powers assured her that her mother no longer bore the leash of the lower planes.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was something that she envied Jazelle, even while she was glad of it.<br><br><em>"I am more dangerous than she, in that regard.&nbsp; My demon 'taint' has not been severed, or bound.&nbsp; I could, should I find you defenseless, drain strength and life force from you, if your resistance were not strong enough to prevent it.&nbsp; Should you desire, your strength could likely crush my throat in the throes of passion, particularly in some positions assumed for mutual pleasure.&nbsp; &nbsp;And yet, I find myself contemplating, should you be of like mind, gladly shouldering what I judge to be a small risk for the strong possibility of great reward."</em><br><br>Was it her mother's current situation, she wondered, that was encouraging her to be so open with Lucius ... or was it simply that it had been too long since she had last encountered a man strong enough to accept the truth.&nbsp; The kind of pleasure, the kind of satisfaction, that came with sating her desires under a blanket of lies and&nbsp; deceptions was comparable to eating trail rations -- sometimes the temptation to indulge in a decadent, succulent feast must be indulged, if living was to be worth it.<br><br>Having spoken all that she thought needed to be said, save one final piece, Mercy left off her visual teasing, and lifted her arms back along the next step up, leaning back in an almost casual pose of relaxation, demonstrating as best she could a lack of threat.<br><br>Only her eyes, liquid orbs of darkness now tinged with red, courtesy of the bathing chamber's illumination source, remained focused and alert as she gazed across the distance.<br><br><em>"The choice is yours, Lucius.&nbsp; &nbsp;Maintain a safe distance for now ... close the gap, or invite me to come to you.&nbsp; You know what I am ... what I could do.&nbsp; What does your instincts, your desires, your intellect ... tell you?"</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>29-12-2014, 09:45:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Beneath it all, Duncan felt precisely the same way Jazelle did about their little 'game'. It was clear – at least he hoped it was – that his 'competitiveness' was natural, was a part of who he was... and as far as -she- was concerned, it was a -playful- thing. A challenge for each of them, two people with obvious egos that were not those of a common man or woman. Each were 'powerful' in their own ways, each of them were confident and secure in their abilities. And so it was natural, then, that pitting such things against one another in playful contests would heighten their time together.<br><br>And as Duncan thrust into her – a little hard as time went on – he couldn't agree more that it certainly had the desired effect.<br><br>The fact that she could accept and even willfully participate in something so -simple-, made Duncan believe that she was far more than a simple demon. She -had- to be. What succubus would endure such playfulness, when her 'meal' was laying atop her within easy reach? She -was- different, even though he was far from an expert on Demonology, and just -knew-, in his heart and his soul, that Jazelle -was- different, just as she had advertised. Whatever power, creature, man, woman or deity had freed her from her usual bonds, Duncan hoped one day to be able to thank, personally.<br><br>With each sweet laugh, with each gentle touch, with each heated look she gave him – he was falling for her, harder than he had the single other time he had allowed such feelings into his heart. Yes, this could all be apart of some grand scheme. Yes, Mercy could be in on it. Yes, the wizard could be involved – perhaps seeking to prove Duncan was -not- so loyal to the King after all? All those things and more could be true, and he simply wouldn't -care-. Not anymore. <br><br>He -burned- for her. That was the only truth he knew, now. Even with each luscious thrust drawing him inevitably closer to the 'little death', he -burned- for her like he had never burned for another woman in his life.<br><br>His hand slid between their bodies, and she gasped, calling him a scoundrel. His eyes focused on hers, a mischievous smile creasing his lips. <br><br>“Seductress,” he hissed back, plunging into her core again as if to stake his claim there, pinning her to the bed firmly, letting it hold this time for a few seconds before withdrawing – allowing his fingers the freedom again to gently pluck her folds like the strings of a lute, focusing on that one -favorite- string of his, the one in the middle, the one that brought forth the most pleasing music of all.<br><br>She wasn't going to take it and let him have his victory, no – and he wouldn't have expected anything different. Her head raise,d and he felt her lips and tongue on his neck. A tingle raced down his spine, as if that tingling sensation was a message being delivered from her lips to his balls to -unleash-. To -let go-. He gasped, as well – since gasping was silent and would not likely draw attention from the other two people nearby who, unknown to him, were not so close by any longer.<br><br>Her teeth nipped at his neck, and he hissed sharply. “Cheater!”, and his fingers doubled their efforts on her clit – his thrusts now shallowing out so that he could use just the tip – giving his hand free reign to manipulate her while still pludering her tunnel for the most part with his girth. She pressed her mouth against his neck – muffling what -would- have been a loud moan that would have spelled her defeat. <br><br>She verbally claimed him, calling him -hers-, and he did not protest as the hard muscles in his chest, abs, back and ass tensed and moved in smooth unison, working her deeply, his every motion graceful and skilled. She lay back, then, to gaze up at him, offering her body to his best efforts – and he did not hesitate. He could -hear- the faint groan in her throat that -wanted- to escape, that wanted to fill his room and echo off his walls. He smiled, sweat visible on his brow, but nothing would make him relent now except victory... or defeat.<br><br>“Come, lover...,” he whispered back to her, encouraging her. “Cry out for me. Cry out for your general...,” he encouraged, his voice barely a ragged whisper. It would be written on his face, as well, that he was every bit as close to caving in as she was. It was obvious that their love making had a profound effect on him, as well, if the look on his face or in his eye was any indication.<br><br>Her body arched upward, then, causing him to bite his lower lip to keep his own cool, the arch of her body something that would usually illicit a deep groan from him – but he held off, just barely, watching her closely, and then next few thrusts found her trying to lift her hips upward, curling madly in an effor to increase the stroking rhythm he had set for her. <br><br>And then she cried out his name, breaking the heated 'silence' between them... and when she did, he was -right- behind her, the groan escaping his throat a mere half-breath after she lost their little game. <br><br>He came with her. Hard. Heated. Passionately, his hands grabbing and groping and pulling, seeking to possess ever part of her that he could grasp. His eyes widened as if in shock when he poured his seed inside her, his body quivering as if prepared to snap. A few beads of sweat raced down his temple, his cheeks, more than one perhaps falling to land on her bare breast, his mouth gone slack, his exhalation of breath a ragged, shuddering rasp as each surge inside her threatened to render him mindless.<br><br>Perhaps Jazelle -had- lost something, something given to him, and in turn, he had lost something similar as well that she likely gained. An exchange on the spiritual level, perhaps, if such a thing were possible. Whatever it was, wherever it was centered, Duncan lowered himself slowly toward her, his lips finding hers for kisses of the more sensual variety, obviously hungry for post-coital affection...<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>At least Mercy looked -comfortable-, and that alone kept the smile on Lucius's lips in place. That was the point, after all, to make the two of them comfortable as they continued their discussion.<br><br>She enjoyed putting her body on display, though, and he had absolutely no complaints about that. A woman's body was often nature's greatest work of art, he always thought, and Mercy was certainly a masterpiece. He hadn't been lying when he had agreed to have her pose for a replacement portrait for his room. Mercy would provide an even more enticing model to have on canvas, one that would hopefully last him a lifetime – barring any further succubus confrontations in his chambers.<br><br>He nodded in agreement to her assessment of flattery. “In moderation, of course,” he echoed her sentiments in return. Too MUCH flattery felt like... -lies-, and that would usually have quite the opposite effect that the flatterer was usually seeking. But even more enjoyable than her comments on flattery was the way she touched herself, her back arching to lift her breasts just above the surface of the water. Lucius watched, enchanted, as she continued to toy with them both until each was a hardened peak, stiff and straining upwards as if trying to reach the ceiling.<br><br>Then she bluntly assured him that she believed he would stiffen for the parade of any naked well-formed woman. He shrugged slightly. “There are, of course... varying -degress- of... rigidity,” he assured her. “There is stiff, like a freshly wrapped sword handle. Firm, yet still with some give from the leather lacing. Then there is... -stiff-, like bare iron cooled to an unyielding hardness.” He paused for a moment, as if considering something, before speaking again.<br><br>“What I feel for you, sweet Mercy... goes beyond even -that-. Diamond? Adamantine, perhaps? They might very well rival what I feel for -you-. In fact, making love to you in such a state... -might- be considered dangerous... for you,” he said, his voice obviously teasing. <br><br>The discussion, though, veered to the topic of Duncan and Jazelle, general and succubus, human and demon. It was likely obvious to Mercy by now that Lucius was concerned for his friend – in no way 'envious' of him, knowing what Jazelle truly was – especially after one of her own kind had just tried to assault him in his personal chambers mere hours ago. Mercy's response seemed direct and honest, his smile fading as he regarded her seriously.<br><br>At her first question, regarding those who might have no more conscience than a demon might, made him nod in agreement with her. Often, such people were even accused of being -possessed- by a demon, in fact. He had seen such accusations – and the resultant punishment – with his own two eyes. In reality, Lucius had never believed those men and women were 'possessed'. He firmly believed that they had just been wicked people.<br><br>His eyes, of course, were glued to her movements, just as his ears were glued to her words. The holy symbol she wore drew his eyes more than once, providing a very nice object with which to judge the scale of her breast size... and she was easily a perfect fit for his own preferences. She obviously had no qualms touching herself with an audience, and he definitely respected the woman's confidence... and eroticism.<br><br>She spoke on about demons, sharing some of her knowledge that he judged might be considerable, given her origins. His brow furrowed slightly when she said he was wise not to trust -any- demon which, he assumed, would include her own mother. And he was wise not to trust someone born of a demon – which, by happenstance, would include herself. But she then posed the idea that there -are- exceptions, just as there are exceptions to the rule amongst humanity itself. Perhaps her mother was one of those, and she, herself, might be one as well?<br><br>Dispossessed of the lower planes... was such a thing even -possible-? Part of Lucius hoped it was, since he had long hoped for Duncan to find a suitable mate, someone to ground him and offer him true happiness. Lucius knew he should -not- be surprised that such a woman might exist as a -demon-. Somehow, it almost seemed -fitting-.<br><br>“You say she does not feed upon lives, or souls any longer, freed as she is. Then... what -does- she feed on now, then?” he asked curiously. Had that part of Jazelle simply been... removed? Nullified? Repressed? Or had she been forced to trade one hunger for another?<br><br>Mercy's explanation about Jazelle needing to feed her body's carnal appetites was a little more telling. Perhaps that was as simple as it was – Jazelle needed to fuck. Frequently. And by doing so, she could stave off the hunger for far more dangerous fare. <br><br>Lucius grinned at Mercy. “Well, if it's carnal delights that keep her 'fed', then she's come to the best buffet around in Duncan,” he said – then he smirked and shrugged. “Well... the best aside from -me-, of course,” he added with a smile.<br><br>The next portion of her explanation made him raise a brow. Mercy was anything if forward, and she plainly admitted that she was -dangerous-. Something about that niggled in the back of Lucius's mind, what another part of him felt a thrill in her words. Dangerous women were few and far between. Dangerous women with perfect tits, lips made for sliding along engorged flesh, and eyes that seemingly begged for affection, were even more rare than unicorns.<br><br>“Oh, I am of a like mind, for certain,” he said with a slight chuckle. “And what excitement is there in life, without some manner of risk? I find you enticing – which is obvious. I doubt many men wouldn't. I find the danger your offer... just as enticing. And I can't help but wonder if you might even come close to lasting as long as that bitch that we banished back in my chambers?” he said, as if pondering it out loud.<br><br>Then she offered him a choice. Stay away from her, close the distance, or have her come across to him. She was curious what his instincts would tell him to do, but he had a pretty good feeling she knew what his next action would be.<br><br>Slowly he leaned forward from the step across from her which he lounged upon. Rising upward, the water level reached just above his knees, and for a brief moment, she would be able to see the heavy, thickly hardened slab of manhood that protruded out from his body like the mast of a ship, curved upward in a gentle sweep like fleshy scimitar, the head thick and plump. But he stepped forward, descending the steps beneath the water opposite her own position, cutting off her view after only a moment to gaze. Upon reaching the pool's floor, the water level up to his arm pits, he lowered himself slightly to submerge himself up to his neck, and then slowly floated toward her. <br><br>“I must be honest with you, as well, dear Mercy,” he said, a playful smile on his features. “It is only fair to grant you this warning, for you have been honest and forthright with me, it seems only fair that I do the same for you. I am not without powers of my own,” he whispered now, being as close as he was in the steam-filled room, he did not need to speak very loud for his voice to be heard.<br><br>“I must warn you that there is a good chance you will fall in love with me,” he said, which from most men might come across as a simply arrogant statement. But he seemed quite... genuine in his approach as he grew nearer to her. “It does not always happen – just as not every demon from the abyss is wicked,” he nodded slowly. “But you should be aware of this, as I seem to have that effect on a large percentage of women whom I... encounter. It is nothing to fear, nothing to be alarmed about. It is actually quite natural... but I thought you should know... just in the spirit of disclosure,” he smiled.<br><br>He stopped floating closer when he reached her knees. She could feel his hands touch her, now – his palms coming to rest gently on her knees – and then slowly gliding up her thighs, thumbs caressing part way down each of her inner thighs, his other fingers curved and gliding along her outer thighs as his palms moved slowly upward. They reached her hips, his palms gliding to her hip bones and pausing there – gently, almost imperceptibly squeezing before continuing their slow exploration upward still.<br><br>Of course, she could not -see- this, his arms and even shoulders submerged as they were, at least until his hands reached -just below her breasts – where they the slowly emerged, the soft sound of water droplets falling to the surface as they raced along each of his digits and palms. <br><br>And then his hands moved over her breasts – but not touching her – except where her stiff nipples grazed along the soft, wet flesh of his inner palm. His fingers tensed slightly, as if to grope her perfectly carved orbs, but still – the only touch of skin on skin that she felt now was how his palms lightly brushed against her nipples – his hands ready to back away should she protest. Or, should she arch, should she attempt to press her breasts into his palm – his hands would easily draw back, maintaining only those two pin-point connections.<br><br>“I can not help but wonder how a half-succubus would enjoy being touched,” he whispered as his hands started to make slow, faint circles, brushing her nipples against his palms in slow circles. “Care to share your thoughts on -that- subject, or... do you prefer for me to find out on my own?” he asked. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 04:30:28</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Losing their contest did not sting in the slightest, not when the losing had felt as close to heaven as a creature such as herself could ever hope to experience.&nbsp; He had&nbsp; named himself her general, and even if the pet name had mixed connotations of ownership, it seemed that he truly was hers as much as she was his.<br><br>Far from wishing to end the contact was Duncan's mouth enveloped hers, Jazelle was more than content to remain just as they were for as long as he wished.&nbsp; Her arms enfolded his shoulders, her hands gentle as she held and stroked him, urging him to remain close to her as their bodies slowly cooled from the heat of passion.<br><br>Whatever reservations he had had over her assumed form had dissipated, and Jazelle was well content, deliciously sated ... and strangely replete in her general's arms. Slowly, her honey-toned skin paled, her hair straightened and lightened, lengthened.&nbsp; Little by little, as their mouths danced together in a slow, sweet waltz, she let the 'Lady Alerian' form slip away, until she was again what he most wished.<br><br>That was, she found, what she most wished to be ... and it would likely be some time before Lucius and Mercy returned, if she knew her daughter.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)<br></div>At least her words made enough impact on Lucius, or so Mercy thought, that he was willing to at least consider the possibility that Jazelle wasn't an immediate threat to his friend and mentor's welfare.&nbsp; With any luck, the wizard that her mother's had mentioned would reinforce that that ... and at least he'd grown comfortable enough that Mercy didn't have to stay there and listen while tall, dark and handsome played a serenade on her mother's body.<br><br>The brief 'glimpse' into that had been ... unsettling.&nbsp; Undeniably heating, arousing, and a very emphatic reminder about all work and no play, but unsettling all the same.&nbsp; <br><br>Lucius agreed that her mother had lucked in to an excellent buffet in Duncan, but Mercy decided to let that whole topic just slide away into the water without further exploration.&nbsp; Perhaps later, when there was less of the physical in the mental exercise, she would ponder more.&nbsp; Now, however, there were more interesting questions that she preferred to attempt to answer.<br><em><br>"You might be surprised, then," </em>Mercy retorted, but without rancor.&nbsp; When she turned on the 'sex appeal', of course, she could draw just about any man for a time.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet, when she was herself, her very strength, intensity, and focus was enough to put off many men ... and she had failed at seductions that she had very much wanted to succeed.&nbsp; It was, of course, debatable on the 'why', but that was another academic exercise better suited for another time.<br><br>"Different motivations.&nbsp; She wanted to feed off you, and cumming was secondary.&nbsp; After you'd given her what she most wanted, she likely would have been much more receptive and demanding of your efforts."&nbsp; Mercy allowed herself a little smirk.&nbsp; <em>"As far as I'm concerned, should we agree upon that demonstration, you can practice self-denial all you want, so long as you don't ask me to follow your example."</em><br><br>While Lucius surrendered himself to the deepest part of the pool, crossing the distance between them, Mercy enjoyed both the view and the soak.&nbsp; Most men would be soft as heated taffy after barely surviving a succubus attack, and there he was ready for another round -- and with a half-succubus at that.&nbsp; Her opinion that he'd been badly injured in battle or some accident, damaging the part of his brain that controlled caution, grew stronger, but all the same she approved thoroughly -- at least when she stood to benefit.<br><br>She listened while he warned her of the dangers of falling in love with him, a skeptical, amused expression on her face. <em> "Thank you for your candor, Lucius.&nbsp; I will guard against losing my heart to you ... but if I do, you should certainly feel no guilt for it.&nbsp; You did warn me, after all."</em><br><br>The red glow from the lights turned the gathering wisps of steam to blood-tinted fog.&nbsp; Lucius' dark hair, and she suspected her own, glowed with red highlights, and his skin was dark and dusky, a ruddy shadow beneath the water.&nbsp; The sight warm waves tickled Mercy's skin, and hid much of what went on below the water's surface.&nbsp; She was content to watch Lucius' face and allow her other senses to hold sway where vision was the weakest of her senses.&nbsp; His hands were large, strong, as they slid their way up her water-slick thighs, exploring her hips, brushing at the soft skin along her ribs before drawing away to tease with his nearness.<br><br>Mercy did not move at all as his hands slowly emerged from the steamy water, like some denizen from the deep,&nbsp; Nor did she move as his fingers mimicked the shape of her breasts, hovering, while his palms ever so lightly teased her taut, pointed peaks.<br><em><br>"Do you need pointers, Lucius?&nbsp; A demonstration?&nbsp; Or do you enjoy a bit of direction?&nbsp; I'd be happy to provide any or all ... or to trust that your extensive experience won't disappoint.&nbsp; See how trusting I am ... how ... unthreatening ... I can be?"</em><br><br>As a beginning, it wasn't bad.&nbsp; Her nipples were very responsive to touch, as she had demonstrated for him already.&nbsp; The water, the heat, only made them moreso as the blood rushed to the surface cells. <br><br><em>"Is it only the touch of your hands that you're offering?&nbsp; Because if it is not, I might suggest that it would be a very enticing beginning if you were to tug the tip of one heavenward with your fingers ... and use your mouth and tongue to do the same to the other ... but that is just one suggestion.&nbsp; There are, after all, so many wonderful possibilities."</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 09:15:47</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan, too, felt the slow cooling of their combined passion as they kissed and held one another. This was how it was -supposed- to be. In times past with previous partners, he'd be pulling on his breeches by now, or she'd be donning her dress again in preparation to depart. But not with Jazelle. She kissed him back just as intently as he kissed her. He didn't know if she was merely humoring him now, or if she truly enjoyed this, but if he had to guess, from the way she touched him – he'd guess that she enjoyed it.<br><br>He -felt- the subtle changes begin, rather than saw them as the texture and shape of her tongue began to change as it mingled with his own. Once he felt it, his eyes opened, and he slowly pulled his lips from hers and looked down to watch the change progress. Slowly, he smiled, and when the change was completely, he growled softly. <br><br>“You wench,” he said, obviously in mirth, and he lowered a hand down to hook beneath one of her thighs, and lifted it, holding it in place along the side of her body. <br><br>“Just give me a moment...,” he asked, half request, half plea, his hips moving now very faintly... obviously seeking to arouse himself again upon seeing her true form. It didn't appear that the general was quite done with her yet...<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy gave a very casual explanation as to the motives of the first succubus that had assaulted Lucius in his chambers. Indeed, Mercy spoke almost as if she were a simple school marm, retelling him some bit of knowledge that she seemed to think he should already be aware of. He returned her smirk when she explained the likely goals of the now-banished-bitch, but Mercy made it clear that unlike the earlier demon-creature, Mercy herself had no such self-restraint, and would not even if Lucius practiced it himself.<br><br>He nodded his head once in understanding and acceptance. “No, lady... I would never ask such a think of you,” he said. “If I wanted to deny you the rush of orgasm... I would simply do it – take you to the precipice, and let you dangle there awhile,” he said, his voice almost a lilting tease. “If I had reason to, of course. I am not such a fiend in bed, I promise you,” he assured her, but something in his smile seemed to indicate that his regular playfulness might very well extend to carnal pursuits.<br><br>She played right along with his warning – which was what he had expected. Rather, he had expected her to laugh loudly in his face, but the look she gave him and her spoke response were nearly the same. She thought it a silly warning, he was certain – yet he had simply been truthful, whether she or anyone else might consider it arrogance.<br><br>His slow stalking of her was not met with flight, as he imagined it might be. Nor did she throw herself into his arms, demanding to feed upon his life force. She merely lay there, watching, appraising... and likely plotting, somehow. Lucius was keenly aware that this woman's intellect – and even basic thought-processes – were very much unlike the typical woman in the kingdom where he lived. She had even warned him how dangerous her kind was, and her mother's kind, and... well... despite those warnings, he still felt as hard as he ever had, as eager as he'd ever been to sheath himself within a specific woman. The one laying before him was -infinitely- more enticing than the she-hag they had banished together earlier that night.<br><br>She teased him about 'direction' and 'guidance'. He had half a mind to confess his near-virginity, and beg her for detailed instructions. Such playfulness didn't seem to be the type she would find funny, nor was he eager to spend enormous amounts of time bandying words, especially when there were far more enjoyable pursuits they could be working toward. Besides, Duncan or Jazelle – or god forbid both of them – could come walking in any moment and ruin whatever passion seemed to be brewing between him and the lovely woman before him.<br><br>“So trusting,” he smiled, “So... non-threatening,” he replied, “And here I thought you wanted me to be worried for my own safety. I've vanquished one succubus this night, so tending to a half of one should be a fairly straight-forward feat, should it not?”<br><br>He knew -this- would be different. She had already proven that she was. But... just -how- different, he did not yet know...<br><br>She spoke again as he toyed with her nipples, feeling them stiffen perhaps even more than they had. His eyes looked up into hers as she spoke, giving him 'suggestions', as she put it, and acknowledged that there were many possibilities that they might share together. He raised a brow as she finished speaking...<br><br>And his left hand moved, gently allowing tow of his fingers to nimbly pinch her nipple lightly as it pulled upward, just as she had described. Leaning forward more, his eyes -never- leaving hers, his mouth descended on the other – but instead of following her 'suggestion' to the letter, instead – his teeth gently gripped the swollen, tender flesh between them and lifted upward, as well. Both breasts being tugged upward by the sheer hardness of her nipples, his teeth parted, allowing that breast to fall back into place as he smiled.<br><br>“Soldiers know when to take orders,” he whispered. “And when to disobey. And now... I have a suggestion for -you-....”<br><br>Slowly he moved forward again, his hands finding the surface of the steps beneath the water to either side of her, his body hovered over hers, perhaps lightly brushing her thigh here, his arm brushing against her hip there... until his face hovered above and in front of her own at an angle.<br><br>“...Shut up and kiss me,” he said, eyes still on hers, lowering his lips slowly to meet hers, affording her plenty of time to avoid his lips if she wished....
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-12-2014, 21:54:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>It was certainly a rarity for the succubus to play so openly with her forms, even with those lovers who had known that she possessed one that was so obviously not human.&nbsp; &nbsp; Since she had been 'freed' of her connection to the abyss, she had rarely assumed her natural form for any ... and to take a lover in that form.&nbsp; None before Duncan had asked, and to have him seek it over all others was truly a mark of his courage, and his nature.&nbsp; &nbsp;That she could change so easily, so openly, with his body still entwined with hers ... was fascinating and new, and oddly pleasing on many levels, including the erotic.<br><br>To see him smile brought hers in answer, without thought ... her eyes again showing traces of features beneath the pale expressionless void as the hungers again seemed to go dormant.&nbsp; &nbsp;What it meant, Jazelle was not sure, but she relished the feeling ... all the more for being in Duncan's embrace, her lips still warm and tingling from the press of his.&nbsp; His smile ... she thought that she might gladly trade any treasure in her possession to see that expression on his face while he regarded her.<br><br>He called her a wench, laughing softly even as he reached down to capture a leg in his grasp, angling her body so that she tightened around his softening girth as his hips began to move in tiny, gentle strokes as he, apparently, sought to re-awaken the flames that had just thoroughly been dampened.<br><br><em>"My general," </em>Jazelle purred, throaty laughter in the endearment as she looked up into his eyes,<em> "there are any number of ways in which I could assist, as you are so delightfully eager."</em><br><br>She paused for a moment, letting her senses drift away from the heady, sensual feel of her general's weight pressing her down so enjoyably into the soft surface of the bed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy's presence was not far, and her daughter seemed to be in no distress whatsoever, unless the quickening of her desires could be considered stressful ... and a wider investigation revealed no trace of any from her former abode.<br><br><em>"We perhaps have time as well as opportunity, my sweet ... it seems that your second, and mine, have decided they trust us well enough together to seek privacy of their own." </em><br><br>Jazelle did not know about Duncan's private bathing access - for all she knew, Lucius might just have coaxed Mercy to wherever he went for a tryst when the general was not disposed to share his quarters or his bed.&nbsp; Given the way that Lucius had been looking at Mercy, even after her bloodlines were revealed, the succubus did not think that either of them posed a danger to the other, save the danger of distraction.&nbsp; Given her current activities, she had little room to start the casting of stones, however, even if she had been so inclined.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br><em>"I have seen nothing to make me wish to harm you ... quite the contrary," </em>Mercy responded as he commented on her concerns for his safety.&nbsp; <em>"But then, I already know I can trust me ... and my mother.&nbsp; I even trust her enough to believe I can trust both her lover and one whom he calls ... friend?&nbsp; ... brother?&nbsp; &nbsp;And yes, you would think that a mere half-succubus would be easy to deal with after a full one, but then I'm hardly going to come breaking in to the rescue now, am I?&nbsp; Plus, I think I might just be both more intelligent and more resourceful than the one who tried to have you for dinner."</em><br><br>A little arrogance rarely turned the priestess off, except when it was totally unjustified.&nbsp; From what she'd seen, Lucius could back up a bit of arrogance with his prowess as a warrior, and he'd held out long enough with the succubus to give him certain claim to hubris, so long as he didn't carry it to extremes.&nbsp; Being somewhat arrogant herself, it seemed a tad hypocritical to call someone else on it.<br><br>And besides, there were other things she'd rather be doing, particularly after Lucius displayed both a talent and willingness to follow instructions, as well as extrapolate from them rather successfully.&nbsp; Mercy's breath hissed out in a pleased sort of sound that was arrested as he desisted all too soon ... though his words sent an anticipatory thrill down her spine as he smiled an eased closer.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“...Shut up and kiss me”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><em><br>"Like I've never heard that one before ..."</em> she muttered, with a little roll of her eyes that contrasted with the immediate curve of her lips upward into half a smile before she demonstrated that she, too, knew when it was beneficial to do as she was told.<br><br>She did not give him the courtesy of time to avoid anything as she raised her head to meet his lips, without hurry but not without eagerness, as she reached out for convenient hand-holds to bring him down to her.&nbsp; One hand moved to curl around his bicep, while the other slid unerringly and confidently beneath the water for a much more direct, but still gentle, grip.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>31-12-2014, 09:27:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan may have assumed that the 'form changing' game she seemed to play was a common thing for her. He had no idea, really, and he figured she would use it to her advantage – even in the bedroom. The extent of her desires, past or present, would not simply halt upon crossing the threshold onto the bed. If her various forms would get her what she wanted, he figured she'd use them – above or beneath the sheets.<br><br>Her words echoed in his mind – infinite forms she could assume, to tantalize and excite him – and in turn, excite herself... might she do this for him, and once he pleased her – reward him with the form he desired most? As if this... relationship... wasn't already the most exotic and different one he'd ever been apart of, she continued to offer him delights that no man in his right mind could resist. Duncan had never sampled 'perfection', and assumed he never would, but Jazelle – his dark beauty from the depths of the abyss – was as close as he had ever come to it, ironic as that might be.<br><br>His focus was clearly on her – sure as his hands roamed her flesh, touching, squeezing, caressing, teasing nipples and and caressing her jawline alike. When he teasingly called her 'wench', adjusting her thigh for a slightly different angle below, he was already feeling the blood flow once more. As he mentioned, if she gave him a moment... he would be prepared for her once more, and the second time around always afforded him more -time- to enjoy...<br><br>She purred at him, her throaty laughter for a moment almost sounding otherworldly as she looked into his eyes, his eyes that were full of hunger for her now that she was in the shape that he had seemed to grow most attached to. Her offer to assist him made his brows raise in consideration... and curiosity. That he was so eager was obvious, of course, and he had no intentions of letting her go now until he had thoroughly ravished her, whether they had an audience of two, or two thousand. But his body slowed and paused for a moment.<br><br>Finally, his smile returning to his lips after a delicious kiss of hers, he nodded. “Alright... you've got me curious about these various ways you might... assist me. So, do your worst, my lover... -assist me-.”<br><br>She paused beneath him for a moment then informed him that they had time and opportunity... for what she referred to, Duncan was not completely sure, but his curiosity of course had been piqued. <br><br>“Time and opportunity... for what?” he asked curiously. To 'assist' him? Truth be told, she needed to do little in order to stir him. That would likely be something she was quite used to given her past. Simply being in her presence was enough to unsettle him, to urge his body to respond as if it could reach out to her under any circumstances and -enjoy- what she had to offer. But now he was curious what she meant, and he remained still and quiet, looking down into her eyes awaiting her thoughts.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>“Oh, you can trust -me-, for certain,” Lucius whispered back to her, his eyes locked on hers. “I am a gentleman and a compassionate man. I'd never take advantage of a visitor to our land, no matter how enticing she was,” he smiled, slowly moving above her. “Duncan is my general, though he's the closest thing to a brother that I've had. But I trust him, and if his heart is set on this demon he has enslaved himself to... then how could my attraction to the demon's daughter be any more ludicrous?” he asked rhetorically.<br><br>“I don't get the impression that I will need rescuing from you, though... unless you harbor some secret you have yet to reveal. You certainly seem more intelligent than the foul creature I met earlier – you're certainly a far better conversationalist. As for resourceful, though...,” he took on a very forced, and fake, look of doubt on his face. “That remains to be seen. She -was- rather... convincing. You have your work cut out for you, I believe....”<br><br>Lucius oozed confidence, which of course to most people walked a fine line hand-in-hand with arrogance. He had learned this demeanor from Duncan of all people, but Lucius had taken it to the next level, as if constantly trying to 'out do' his leader. It had often earned him slaps across the face by various ladyfolk, and more than once had gotten him imprisoned for a night after fisticuffs with various menfolk. But more often than not, his bravado earned him a night of warmth in his bed with one – or more – of those aforementioned ladyfolk.<br><br>This was different, though – Mercy as no mere tavern tramp, or even one of the nobility. This woman was far more difficult to read, despite her obvious gestures. He knew he'd have to be careful, lest he find himself under -her- sway, just as Duncan was surely under Jazelle's spell. <br><br>She rolled her eyes at him when he told her to kiss him, yet her smile seemed playful. <br><br><em>'Like I've never heard that one before...',</em> she said.<br><br>He smiled right back at her, his lips nearing hers inch by inch.<br><br>“Oh, I am sure you have...,” he said softly, just as their lips met for their first kiss, her head rising slightly as if to meet his, neither of them rushing – but both of them -wanting-. One of her hands moved up to rest on his arm, while the other slipped beneath the surface, her touch every bit as hot as the water itself as he felt the brush of her fingers along his incredibly eager shaft.<br><br>The idea that she made the first move towards direct stimulation was not an unpleasant one... and it merely confirmed his own thoughts on the matter. In the water as they were, there were additional challenges, he knew, but there were also additional opportunities and benefits as well, and he decided to take advantage of those immediately.<br><br>Their lips pressed together, his head turned slightly to allow for that perfect fit. It was gentle at first, his tongue tip slipping forth on an exploratory venture to brush along the line of her lower lip, inviting her for a deeper kiss should she wish it. Below, his hands moved, using the water as an ally as her body would be near weightless. He bent over her currently, his knees on the steps a few down from the water's surface, and one of his hands slid up behind her to the small of her back. Gently he lifted until her torso broke the surface, water sluicing down body sides of her body as gravity played it's role. Her rump and back still rested in the water's warm embrace, but enough of her body now floated on the surface, along with his hand's guidance, such that her womanhood hovered -just- above the water's surface as well.<br><br>At the same time, his hips moved forward, whether her hand still explored his rather generous endowment or not, placing himself directly in line with her vulva. He made no move to press forward, though – her hand seemed quite eager to feel the grip of his 'blade', but he was certainly in position now that if she so chose to do so, she could easily guide him to any part of her sex that she desire. <br><br>The kiss gently intensified – moving from a gentle, almost innocent first kiss, to an intoxicating invitation for something far more passionate... but only if she dared. His free hand was not idle, either, moving up to her breast, gently rolling a nipple between thumb and index finger – gently pulling, teasing, tugging... just as her earlier instructions had indicated... <br><br>Far be it for him to ignore simple directions...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-01-2015, 05:26:02</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)<br></div>Her general's touch was unlike any that had come before, though Jazelle did not quite understand why it was so.&nbsp; Analyzing, understanding ... all these things could wait until a more opportune time.&nbsp; There were priorities to be observed, after all, and Jazelle had developed a very clear feel for what hers should be.&nbsp; At the moment, there was no priority higher than seeing the desire in Duncan's eyes, and feeling its force upon her skin and in her body.<br><br><em>"For this, and for assistance, of course,"</em> Jazelle answered with a little smirk. <em> "I doubt that we will soon be interrupted.&nbsp; Though it seems you little need more assistance.&nbsp; Given that we have the time, my general, my hands, my mouth ... all that I am ... are at your disposal, for our mutual pleasure, however you wish."</em><br><br>Such an open-ended offer she had rarely made ... never, in fact, save for the prelude for betrayal when she had been other than she was now.&nbsp; And now, betrayal was the farthest thing from her mind.&nbsp; To betray Duncan, she would betray herself ... even without consideration of her vows.&nbsp; That, too, was something to be considered later, much later when her general was not so close.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>The comment about being a gentleman, Mercy didn't believe for a minute.&nbsp; Oh, Lucius likely was a gentleman when it suited him, and when circumstances demanded it.&nbsp; The rest of the time, he was probably as much a gentleman as she was a lady.&nbsp; That suited her just fine.<br><br>Even arrogance was not an impediment to attraction the way it could be when complex plans were afoot.&nbsp; More than once, Phaenix's Chosen had stamped all over a ripe opportunity because he believed himself above anyone else's plans but his own.&nbsp; &nbsp;A lover could be as arrogant as he liked so long as he delivered upon performance, and if he did not ...<br><br>Lucius' kiss certainly seemed to justify a certain arrogance.&nbsp; It was practiced without being impersonal, gentle but inviting.&nbsp; Her lips parted without hesitation, tongue sliding along his upper lip while his touched her lower, before meeting in a slowly, tentative greeting.<br><br>Once his 'handle' had served its purpose in guiding him closer to her, Mercy's grasp gentled into a caress, taking the measure of length and girth with water-slicked fingers.&nbsp; His blade felt as impressive upon a more tactile examination as it had looked -- balanced, delightfully curved, and of fine craftsmanship, the gods' finest.<br><br>Mercy did not resist at all as he lifted her body, coaxing it to float upon the warm water's surface.&nbsp; The relative coolness of the air prickled at her skin like the fervent strokes of a tongue.&nbsp; The buoyancy of her body upon the water was an interesting sensation, and the possibilities.&nbsp; Mercy made a soft sound of appreciation, for the myriad of touches upon her body, the heat of the water, the cooler air, the soft slick heat of Lucius' body as warm as the water itself, the warmth of his mouth moving against hers, the lap of the water, and the sweet, sweet pull of his teasing finger and thumb, making her ache for more.<br><br>Her hand kept hold of Lucius, touching him softly and slowly with appreciation, though she did not urge him closer, not just yet.&nbsp; &nbsp;To float as she was ... to give over that much control, or even to take on the appearance of it ... was not yet something she was prepared to do.&nbsp; As the need to breathe finally made itself known, ending the kiss, Mercy used her fingers upon Lucius' girt and her body's own strength to return her feet to the stone of the pool, shifting to bring her body close to Lucius' in a more equal posture, letting her knees bend beneath her on the stone seats at the side of the bath.<br><br><em>"Are you sure this is what you would have, Lucius? I would not wish for you to think I have taken unfair advantage of you ...."</em><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>03-01-2015, 14:48:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan listened and nodded in understanding as she explained the situation. She had taken her real form, which meant she was confident they would not be intruded upon very soon. And she offered the assistance of her clawed hands and her fork-tongued mouth. Her voice was soft, seductive, irresistible, and beautiful. <br><br>Duncan smiled, a plan obviously already in the works in his devious mind. With her on her back, Duncan moved beside her, but switched his body around so that his feet were near the pillows, and his head was near her feet. Looking down his body back toward her head, he lifted a leg and carefully moved it across to the other side of her body, then rose up to his knees, effectively straddling her shoulders with his lower body, while his upper body moved down, his hands raising his torso above her, until his head was above her groin. He glanced down his body again, to see his generous package hanging downward, suspended just inches above her face. <br><br>On his own face, he wore a rather large smile. Without speaking, he moved his vision back up to her vulva, and one of his hands moved to her thighs to gently nudge them apart, just to give him enough room to feast. Then he lowered his head and set to it, his tongue and lips eager to taste her demonic snatch, eager to gorge openly on her body, eager to pleasure her as completely as he possibly could. <br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy was receptive to his kiss, at least. That, to Lucius, was a good sign. She kissed him as slow and languidly as he kissed her – no hint of a rush, no sudden push for expediency. He -liked- that, purring softly against her lips. Enjoying a slow, fine kiss was like enjoying a sweet wine – it was better savored rather than gulped. His lips molded to hers, and his tongue – which demonstrated some interesting agility – curled around and teased hers slowly, invitingly, suggestively...<br><br>He felt her hand slowly gliding along his length, as if appraising its size, thickness and rigidity, perhaps evaluating if it would suit her needs or not. He assumed it would, of course. Her water-slick fingers glided along his skin without interruption or resistance, her touch gentle and soothing even. He reckoned she had quite the firm grip when she wanted to, as well, but right now her touch felt more exploratory than anything else.<br><br>She did not pull on his member or guide him in any specific direction. Instead, she touched him and moved her own body. First, she eased her lips slowly from the heated lock that he had upon them, separating with a warm breath. Next, using her leverage with his manhood in her hand, as well as her own body, she moved to stand upward in the pool, floating closer to Lucius, resting on her knees beneath the water's surface so that they were more or less on the same level.<br><br>She spoke, curious to see if he was still certain that he desired her. She mentioned taking advantage of him, and he laughed softly.<br><br>“How do you know it is not I taking advantage of you?” he asked, his voice sweet as his hands moved. One hand moved beneath the water, down to his 'blade', and upon finding her hand wrapped around it, he gently overlaid his larger hand on top of hers, his fingers sliding suggestively between each of hers as together, their hands wrapped around his thickness.<br><br>His other hand moved back into position at her breast, teasing her nipple, thumb lightly circling it before joining his index finger to lightly twist and pull it in a soft tease.<br><br>“I should very much like another one of those very sweet kisses – if you have any remaining to give...” he suggested. “If not, I'll have to make due with this,” he said, leaning forward, his head turning to the side – his lips finding a soft spot on her neck to brush against. Warm, moist, soft, his lips dragged along her skin on the side of her neck, just as his fingers lightly squeezed her nipple again – and he purposely tensed his member, throbbing solidly in her hand for effect...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>06-01-2015, 04:05:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div>Duncan wasted little time accepting her offer, which she found strangely rewarding.&nbsp; It was more than just that he wanted her; there was a trust there that was not simply caution supplanted by desire.&nbsp; It was a heady sort of feeling, and one that accented her own desire with a sweet, almost salty tang.&nbsp; She made a soft sound, low in her throat, as he eased his hardening member from her body, a task that was slowed by the not quite reflexive tightening of her muscles to grip him close ... and the demoness gave him a slow, lazy smile as he shifted above her.<br><br>Hopefully, Lucius and Mercy would not be interrupted as they got acquainted with one another, for she and Duncan still had bonding of their own to do.&nbsp; It did not take any special precognition to know what her lover intended, and the succubus approved, fully, as her slight movements to adjust the fit and position of their bodies.&nbsp; He had asked to taste her as they had played their first game, and she had refused, to both their regret.&nbsp; Now, there was no&nbsp; thought of refusal, only eagerness.<br><br>Duncan's form was as close to perfection as she had ever seen, though she would have admitted to it with only a bit of reluctance.&nbsp; He had scars, but they only emphasized his strength and determination.&nbsp; Every slight imperfection only enhanced his beauty, and to her eyes there were few things that were more majestic than his body in full arousal.<br><br>As his head descended, hers rose with equal eagerness, lips parting to engulf the head of his cock as her tongue snaked out to taste their combined taste -- skin, the faint tang of perspiration, her juices flavored with the salty spice of his spend.&nbsp; Jazelle made a sound of hunger, her pale hands sliding up his thighs to hook gently on the muscles of his ass, her pointed nails dimpling his skin with as much gentleness as a mother lion with her cubs.&nbsp; The first touch of his lips upon the soft, wet folds sent a wave of pleasure over her senses, and Jazelle arched her back even as she drew her mouth up and over his shaft.<br><br>The sounds that they made as they pleasured each other were not loud, but they were unmistakable ... a good thing, perhaps, that those they had shared Duncan's quarters with had sought something else to keep them busy.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Despite having been witness to the first succubus' failed seduction, and then 'tapping' into her mother's tryst with her lover, Mercy's kiss was not one driven by her hunger.&nbsp; Instead, it was prompted by nothing more complex than her own enjoyment -- but that was equally profound.&nbsp; Pleasure was something to be savored, as were the moments when extraordinary lives intersected.&nbsp; She thought that Lucius was one such individual, despite his arrogance -- or partially because of it.&nbsp; There was a depth there, a balance between irreverence and duty that was almost lyrical, a tune that demanded to be played and perfected.<br><br>&nbsp;He asked how she knew he wasn't taking advantage of her, and Mercy answered, with a soft chuckle of her own, <em>"One does not preclude the other, Lucius." </em> His hand joined hers where it wrapped softly, appreciatively, around his girth.&nbsp; Mercy obligingly widened the gap between her fingers to give him freer access, and she smiled encouragingly as she guided their joined fingers slowly back and forth, from mid to base and back to tip, holding his gaze as he asked for another kiss, and then dipped his head to nibble upon her neck ... teasing her expertly as his member lurched against their hand as he demonstrated that he did have control of his blade.<br><br><em>"An unsuccessful coupling with a succubus might have turned many a man into a monk, or a celibate ... and yet here you are, ready and ... if I read your body aright ... eager to sink your blade inside an eager sheathe.&nbsp; You are an interesting man, Lucius.&nbsp; I have not fallen in love with you ... yet ... but perhaps I shall."</em><br><br>Using his long hair ... another plus, as Mercy had always preferred men with long locks who carried the look without sacrificing masculinity ... as a handle, Mercy urged his head back up to meet hers, grip upon his hair gentling but not dropping as her head angled, tongue sought entry to explore.&nbsp; There was no more taste of the succubus remaining to ruin the mood, and Mercy felt delightfully warm, relaxed, aroused.<br><br>While they kissed, she continued to stroke his length softly, lazily, her hand moving with his as long as he allowed it, slowly tightening her grip to increase the friction on the pull, and softening her grasp with the pull back ... teasing only.&nbsp; The succubus had wanted him to spill inside her, and Mercy wanted that as well.&nbsp; The difference between her and the truly demonic lover ... aside from the whole soul and life draining thing ... was that Mercy would have been happy to prolong the foreplay for hours.&nbsp; This was one of the times when she was happiest to possess only half the lineage ... enough to have an enhanced appreciation for the act, and enough human to be both focused and patient.<br><br><em>"What shall it be, Lucius ... the deep end, the shallow, or perhaps upon the stone .... whichever you choose, I'm certain we will ... eventually ... get to the others and more besides."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>06-01-2015, 10:15:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan was not surprised that Jazelle didn't seem to mind the possible taste of her own body along his shaft. She was what she was, and he imagined she'd probably enjoy a -great- many things that he hadn't even thought of. Tastes, words, positions, sensations... Duncan was sure she had been exposed to -far more- of each one than he had, and he wagered that she likely enjoyed them all.<br><br>It was not surprise, then, that he thought of her form – her true form that he had come to prefer – as being every bit as beautiful as she thought his was. He had said as much to her, and he didn't know if she believed him, or if she thought he had&nbsp; just been trying to be 'sweet'. In a small way, he relished the idea of 'proving' to her his lust for her true form in the coming days, weeks... months?.... Years???? Quickly Duncan reined his thoughts in – if he tried to think -too- far into the future where a woman was concerned, he had long ago learned that he might simply go mad. <br><br>Years, though... the thought of having her, having -this-... for -years to come-... it was almost too good to be true, and in a lot of ways, it was.<br><br>Their mouths came into contact with the others flesh almost simultaneously. The general held himself up with one hand pressed against the bed, and the other he moved to gently rest against her mons, his palm gently cupping it as his fingers lightly followed the natural contours of her sex, following the curve of her mound and then down between her inner thighs. So gently, he used his index and middle fingers to lightly part her folds with wonderfully skilled precision, and his tongue found her clit with extraordinary ease and tenderness. His lips pressed down too, capturing the little bud of flesh in his mouth, her folds embracing the sides of his lips as his tongue did its duty, assaulting her sensitive nub with due diligence. <br><br>The stories that said the juices of a succubus was sweet and addictive like honey... were quite an understatement...<br><br>He purred deeply – which sent vibrations deep into her womanhood. The purr was not only in response to the delightful taste of her – a wish finally fulfilled that had been previous denied, but the feel of her mouth on him was stunningly effective. Her very different tongue stroked over him, sliding and slithering, even spiraling around his girth such that he moaned deeply from the sensation. Her lips were a plush, moist representation of heaven, closing around his thickness in a seal of wet heat that was -just right-. The urge to thrust -down-, to drive his cockshead into her throat was so overwhelming... but he resisted. Instead, he did what he thought would be best to do – he focused on -her-.<br><br>She seemed to enjoy it – her back arched, though she knew he -loved- the view of her back arched like that in pleasure... <br><br>The sounds of his lips and tongue caressing her folds was soft and gentle – but was music to his ears as he alternated between gently suckling her tender flesh, and lashing it with his tongue – and all manner of pleasures in between. He didn't stop there, though, planting his mouth firmly about her clit, it freed up his hand to slide down – and insert two fingers slowly, so very slowly, into her tight channel. Feelign the wet, silken embrace around his fingers, he moaned deeply, wanting her, wanting -all- of her, eager to please her and be pleased.<br><br>His mouth moved more urgently, and the sounds of their deeds rose – and he cared not for who might hear them.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy's hand cooperated with his own fully, as the two of them cooperative stroked his cock. There was plenty of it for the both of them, though, and it was obvious he was rather proud of that. “Such a small hand you have,” he whispered playfully. “It only serves to make my sword appear all the larger. I can't help but wonder if you are... up for the challenge of wielding it,” he added, his fingers nestled suggestively between each of hers. <br><br>Her words spoke of the -other- succubus, and Lucius groaned softly – not with pleasure, but in mild indifference, which he quickly changed by answering her. “That succubus was... too greedy. Too urgent. She lacked finesse, and I was able to defeat her with -this- sword,” he said, pausing – and a gentle flex caused his cock to pulls in their palms before continuing, “Because she was impatient. I long for a -true- challenge, Mercy. From someone who might be able to... equal my zest for passion. Someone who might be able to give as good as she receives. Someone whose sheath is willing – and able – to welcome my blade with open arms.” <br><br>He leaned over again – the edge of his teeth lightly dragging along the skin of her neck, upward, until his mouth reached her ear where he pulled away just enough to whisper. <br><br>“I long for a woman who can be my equal in bed. That sort of woman, I would attempt to hold onto for dear life...”<br><br>His teeth nibbled her earlobe, his other hand gently tweaking her nipple again, his occupied hand still enmeshed with her own. But hearing her words concerning love, he smiled against her earlobe, his lips curling around it before he inched away again to whisper.<br><br>“Fall as you desire.... that will only heighten your pleasures, sweet Mercy,” he invited. “But do not say I did not warn you... Do not curse my name for your inability to stop thinking of me...” There was a -hint- of a mirthful laugh at the end of his whisper, even as the tip of his tongue very, very gently began to trace the ridges of her ear, starting with the lobe and the outside edges, then circling within, demonstrating incredible, precise skill with his tongue.<br><br>Lucius suddenly felt her hand in his hair, and for a brief second, he worried that he might have said too much – orrrr, she was about to demonstrate how she preferred things to be done 'demon style'. Instead, she brought his head back and positioned him for another kiss – and his lips attacked hers with every bit of eagerness that she might display at the same moment. His lips and teeth parted instantly as their tongues – no longer timid or shy – nearly clashed somewhere in between, tangling and sliding, exploring and venturing forth at will. <br><br>Their hands worked his length slowly, his mostly following her lead... mostly. At one point he gently prodded her hand underneath his thickness, palm up, so that she could -feel- the heavy weight in her hands, despite the water's buoyancy. Then as one, their hands melded back around his solid girth, his palm over the back of hers as their fingers once more interlaced and stroked.<br><br>When their lips parted, she posed the question to him of location. In return, he simply smiled, not even bothering to glance around. “The answer to that is simple,” he whispered in return. “I want... -<em>depth</em>-,” he said, emphasizing the last word very suggestively. “Is that something you feel you might be able to provide for me?” he asked rhetorically, but playful still.<br><br>“Upon plumbing all the... deepest parts... then moving about to the shallows and such would seem like an adequate plan. I am positive that there are parts of your body – deep AND shallow – that I can pleasure for your enjoyment... if given the opportunity, of course,” he smiled. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-01-2015, 05:15:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>When Duncan had asked to taste her, that first night, refusing had been one of the hardest things she had ever done.&nbsp; Oddly, she found herself grateful for the wager that he had made, and grateful that she had not prevailed.&nbsp; Her courage had not been great enough to risk everything, and he had bridged that gap.&nbsp; He had not done so with full understanding, but it had taken courage all the same.<br><br>When did desire become something more?&nbsp; There was nothing she could pinpoint, no specific action or outpouring of wisdom that made her desire or his something more than the mutual sating of hungers.&nbsp; <br><br>Sating the hungers ... oh, that was definitely still part of what they were engaged in.&nbsp; &nbsp;And yet, there was more as well.&nbsp; The soft sounds that he made, low in his throat, as his lips and tongue coaxed so deliciously, so intimately, were every bit as sweet as the waves of physical pleasure that caused her to moan and shudder.<br><br>The need was different than when she had truly fed, draining while she had sought pleasure.&nbsp; It was similar as well, in that she sought Duncan's pleasure as ardently as she sought her own.&nbsp; It was not that she wished to take from him, though, in the doing, but to give ... not just because she could, or to prove her own skills, but because it was Duncan, and in pleasing him ...<br><br>Her tongue curled around Duncan's shaft and drew it deeply into her mouth, licking away the sweet and salty nectar of their previous coupling.&nbsp; Her arms slid up , around his back and anchored there, fingers and curved nails gently dimpling his buttocks as she let the tight seal of her mouth rise and fall, following the movement of her hips as she rocked against the lashing of his tongue, the suckling of his lips.<br><br>Their bodies muffled the sounds of their moans, groans, and purrs of pleasure, the rhythmic soft drumming of the bed beneath them as they moved together.&nbsp; &nbsp;Everything was forgotten, for the moment, save for the feel, sound, taste, scent, and sight of their joined bodies, and the need to give, to be, all that he needed.<br><br>As he was, for her.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br><em>"I am up for just about any challenge you can devise, so long as you can make it rewarding," </em>Mercy challenged back, without hesitation, and also without faltering on the slow, cooperative stroke.&nbsp; She was almost tempted to give him a demonstration of her capabilities, but ... the truth was, she liked downplaying her body's height and bulk.&nbsp; The hourglass shape of her figure was inherent, taking a lot of effort to overcome, but adding a few inches and a little more mass was easy, but when her other side was dormant, she had been petite.&nbsp; It was an enormous advantage at times, and a guilty indulgence.<br><br><em>"We will see how much of a challenge you welcome ... and how much you simply enjoy talking one up."</em>&nbsp; Despite the retort, Mercy's tone was more amused than scornful.&nbsp; She was enjoying herself, and Lucius' barely serious irreverence, immensely, and the slow, unhurried build-up of sensual touches.&nbsp; She had met a few men with inordinate pride in the size of their member who were perhaps a quarter skilled as men less impressively endowed, but Lucius seemed no more truly serious in that than he was in most things, which she liked.<br><br>A man who could could laugh at himself -- that was the very essence of a warrior worth the name.&nbsp; The others invariably fell to pride and hubris, weighted down with the muscle that bulked up their wits until their mind could make no more movement than a petulant flex.<br><br><em>"The depths it is, then ... you can judge whether it is sufficient to your expectations.&nbsp; Though if you think to test whether demons sink or float ... that only works on witches."</em>&nbsp; Mercy's lips parted in gentle, teasing laughter as she released her grip reluctantly, letting her fingers slip both from his girth and from the entwining with his as she turned and slowly backed toward the depths of the pool, her eyes remaining on Lucius' face.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>11-01-2015, 21:18:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan groaned deeply when Jazelle's tongue literally wrapped around his shaft. No woman he'd ever been with was capable of such a thing, of course, and the sensation of it, feeling the gentle, wet squeeze and pull of it as she gently reeled him into her mouth was a foreign sensation that fired his arousal to new heights. The presence of her hands on his buttocks, her wicked nails pressing against his skin in silent restraint told him that he wasn't going -anywhere-, even if he wanted to, unless she allowed it.<br><br>There was something incredibly erotic about that notion, as he rested on his elbows, each arm slid between her buttocks, hands both emerging between and beneath her thighs. Curling upward at the wrists, his hands gently held her thighs pried wide open, allowing him access to his meal of choice in that moment, as his tongue assaulted her sex with every bit as much enthusiasm as she did him. <br><br>His hips rocked, also, in a faint, slow shallow circuit, just as she tried to lift hers in time with the rhythm of his tongue. His purrs gently vibrated the soft, silken flesh that he all but gorged on, while every groan from her throat sent a tingling chill up his length and into his core. Like her, everything else was forgotten for a time... impending danger in the keep, the presence of others in his home... all of it. Duncan was lost within their cocoon of passion, threatening to be washed away by it, and there wasn't a single thing he would have changed even had he the power to do so.<br><br>Duncan wasn't sure who was trying to pleasure who more. But to him it was not a competition, but rather a cooperative endeavor. For him, at least, his own pleasure was heightened when he knew that his partner's was, as well. He had often been a selfish lover in the past, especially when he was much younger, but later he learned that giving to his partner usually netted something in return. But in this case, in Jazelle's case, it wasn't even that. He simply had a wish to please -her-, and he couldn't help but wonder how many of her bedmates had ever felt that for her. <br><br>Such a notion quickly faded as they both continued to stroke and undulate, purr and tense, moan and touch. Duncan was content in the here and now, and his goal was to see that Jazelle was, as well, or he'd stop at nothing to make it so.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius seemed rather pleased by her retort, that she was up for about any challenge – as long as she benefited from it. Such a mercenary outlook wasn't lost on him, and he certainly would not judge anyone harshly for having such a viewpoint. Afterall, didn't he himself ascribe to such a thing? As if reading his thoughts, Mercy taunted him gently about his 'challenges', predicting that they would soon learn how much was merely bravado, and how much was accurate. <br><br>Lucius sensed a sort of playfulness in her tone, at least that's what he liked to believe. He had known this woman for a handful of hours, and reading her emotions and motivations wasn't as easy as it was with most women. With most women, they either wanted his cock, his money, to put a ball and chain around his ankle in 'holy matrimony', or some mix of the three. Something told Lucius that Mercy was much different, and that perhaps she wanted none of the above... except, perhaps, for his manhood, which her hand seemed to be enjoying well enough. <br><br>She agreed to his choice of journeying to the depths of the bath, and&nbsp; he chuckled openly at her comparison to witches, having heard the old adage about them since he was a boy. Her laugh was every bit as intoxicating as the rest of her was, and he liked to hope that it was genuine and not just for show. As she released him and began to ease herself backward towards the area they had agreed upon, he followed her close behind, maintaining that same distance between them, his eyes glued to hers, as if looking away for a moment might allow her to escape.<br><br>“I'd not put you in the same category as a witch, dear Mercy,” he said in smooth reply, as he floated toward her, feeling the floor of the bath faintly angling downward, providing more depth the further they moved away. “I might lump you in with 'enchantress' or 'seductress', perhaps. 'Sorceress', if I was pushed to add another. But witch? No, I do not think you a witch at all.” <br><br>He followed her, however long it took, patient and intent upon her, like a hunter stalking its prey. Rushing the endeavor -could- result in capturing his prey, but stood a high likelihood of spooking her – or in Mercy's case, perhaps, turning her off completely as simply some other man looking to dip his wick into a beautiful woman. Instead, Lucius was more than prepared to give chase well into the night, or until she grew weary of it, or sleep forced its way into his eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-01-2015, 02:43:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle had always taken some degree of pride in her skills as a lover, even when she had fucked men to their ruin, leaving behind little but an empty husk.&nbsp; There was an artistry to it, in her mind, even then ... and she had not come to change her view.<br><br>Seduction was charcoal across a blank canvas.&nbsp; Foreplay was the first rough dash of colors taking shape and adding life.&nbsp; The joining was light, shadow, and contrast, blending the elements and adding dimension.&nbsp; &nbsp;Release, particularly mutual release, was that magic moment when the viewer was transported by the artist's vision.&nbsp; The afterglow was the sharing of the experience, soft observations and intimacy, comfort that etched the masterpiece forever in the mind's eye and heart.<br><br>The succubus was hungry, even greedy, for the lashing of Duncan's tongue against the soft bloom of her petals ... the hum and buzz of his moans heightening her pleasure even as it spurred her to greater efforts, her own muffled exclamations and purrs vibrating around his length.&nbsp; Her serpentine, impossibly long tongue explored, probing softly at the swell of his sack, dipping further to capture the saltiness where&nbsp; perspiration moistened the crease of hs buttocks.<br><br>Time, an inconstant thing to the succubus in many particulars, ceased to have meaning.&nbsp; She kept just enough awareness to alert her of danger to Duncan, to her daughter, while the rest was devoted to pleasuring her lover and receiving pleasure in return.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>In the old days, she would have coaxed, cajoled, demanded that Duncan find the pinnacle of his pleasure within the grasp of her walls, spending his seed in a heady explosion that heightened her pleasure and granted release when such was elusive.&nbsp; With Duncan, however, it seemed that things were different -- he was indeed a skilled and generous lover, but Jazelle was beginning to think that perhaps it was something infinitely more rare, more precious, that made him different.<br><br>Under his ministrations, Jazelle's body quaked and shook, driving the hunger deep, sating her fully ... even as she redoubled her efforts,&nbsp; capturing Duncan's swollen, pulsing shaft in the seal of her lips, head, neck and arms all working in concert to drive him beyond all control, to make him even more completely her own.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em>"Just as well, for as you can see, I float."&nbsp; </em>Mercy demonstrated for a moment, letting her feet leave the warm tile of the bath, and raising her legs upward in a graceful motion that suggested a degree of comfort in the water and a definite buoyancy, particularly in the vicinity of her breasts.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her hair dipped partially into the water, and adhered to her shoulders as she brought herself upright, rivulets draining down across her skin and tickling pleasantly.<br><br>She hurried no more than Lucius, enjoying the play and the slowly gathering warmth that had more to do with desire than the heat rising from the water.&nbsp; Were they observed, Mercy thought that they might look like predator and prey, a gander retreating from the lazy advance of a crocodile, perhaps ... save that if she were prey, it was only because she wanted to be.<br><br><em>"I seem to be at a disadvantage," </em>she observed as she came to a halt with her feet beginning to lift of their own accord, the water lapping about her neck like warm kisses, licks, from an attentive mouth.<em>&nbsp; "You are taller than I ... so if you would go deeper, you will have to come up with a creative solution to the problem ... or ... this seems to be a deep as I dare advance unless bath becomes swim."</em><br><br>Mercy's lips curved into a a small, expectant smile ... she adored play, and the luxury to indulge ... and this was her favorite game of all.&nbsp; It was rare that she found someone to play with who could fully engage all her senses.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>16-01-2015, 01:25:37</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan's tongue and lip movements were rapid now, eager... perhaps laced with a hint of desperation. Her exotic mouth and tongue were going to end him quicker than he was comfortable with, and he'd be damned if he was going to break like some hormone-riddled fifteen year old, when he was not without his own considerable skills. Still, the reality of the situation was almost laughable to him: what was a decade's worth of experience, compared to the timelessness of her own? <br><br>Her mouth and tongue tamed his cock as if he were a whimpering puppy looking for a teat to suckle on, and meanwhile he had her petals splayed before him, slick, swollen and wanting, and his efforts seemed so pale in comparison. There was no competition here – he knew, with an enormous amount of suppression to his ego, that 'competing' with her in this way would be like a cheetah racing a human infant. It wouldn't -be- a competition. <br><br>But that didn't mean he was going to bow in surrender so easily.<br><br>He renewed and redoubled his efforts, shoring up his defenses as he would on any battlefield, willing himself to hold on longer... for reinforcements... or to simply outlast his opponent... it didn't matter here.<br><br>His tongue swept all along her silken flesh, lapping at her petals, suckling each of them gently, nibbling lightly on their fragile surfaces. He captuered her clitoris between his lips, nibbling at it, as well, as if aggressively demanding that she feel -ever- bit as aroused as he, as if demanding that she be as close to climax as he was. He purred softly, vibrating her moist flesh, sending vibrations from it into her core. His tongue darted inside her once... then twice, not caring if there were remnants of his earlier spend still remaining. He was on a mission, his tongue then slipping back up even as he felt her mouth adjust again, her tongue twined around his girth as if binding it to her mouth, but even her tongue was moving once again as well.<br><br>His own reached her sensitive pearl again, intent on lashing her as quickly as possible. Maybe he could move his hand there, slip his fingers inside and-....<br><br>The moment her tongue wrapped around and encircled one of his testicles, his head whipped back with a loud, agonized gasp. He felt the warm, wet, nimble appendage -gently- squeeze, as if demanding he release himself, and he could only do one thing...<br><br><em>Obey</em>.<br><br>His hips thrust down, trying to stuff more of himself inside her mouth, and with a loud, wall-shaking groan, his back arched and he erupted. He tongue could -feel- the surge of his balls sending his load on its way, up into the base of his cock, then down its considerable length. <br><br>Eyes wide, mouth hanging agape and his body quivering, he could do nothing but endure the ecstasy....<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius's eyes were happily enjoying Mercy's body floating before him. His gaze roamed from head to toe and back again, particularly enjoying the way her breasts seemed to defy gravity. “Oh yes, I can see that,” he said, standing right next to her as she put her body on display, and a beautiful body it was. It did not last long before her legs dipped back down and she stood beside him once again.<br><br>“I would indeed go deeper... as deep as you are willing to go,” he said quite suggestively, though the words still applied here. His hands moved beneath the water, settling on her hips for a moment as he applied only the slightest pressure to left her up, supporting her, keeping her head easily above water.<br><br>“Wrap your legs around me, Mercy,” he whispered to her. “I will hold you up.”<br><br>So it was an obvious attempt to get between her thighs, but Lucius also knew something she didn't: This was as deep as the water got. Fate, coincidence, luck, call it what you would, but at its deepest, the water made it to just beneath Lucius's chin, though she was right – it would be too deep for her alone unless she wanted to swim. <br><br>His hands on her hips did not force the issue, but rather waited for a sign that she approved. If she agreed, those hands would lift her further, making her nearly weightless in the water so that he could move her at will, if she agreed to be moved at all. <br><br>Just then, a faint 'growl' could be heard echoing from outside. Lucius blinked for a moment, then smiled, a look of surprise on his face. “Interesting,” he said, obviously surprised by the sound.<br><br>“Poor Duncan.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-01-2015, 03:15:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div>There was no thought of competing with Duncan in Jazelle's mind.&nbsp; Like her former sisters, it was rare for the succubus to achieve a climax -- at least one of the same overwhelming intensity -- before a lover.&nbsp; She supposed, when she wondered about such things, that it was built into her creation to ensure that reward was tied to achieving the 'feed'.&nbsp; That Duncan had brought her to release even seconds before his own was an achievement of note, and one that highlighted the difference between her regard for him and previous lovers.&nbsp; In time, perhaps, she would tell him of those differences, but not yet -- not until she had had time and opportunity to consider.<br><br>As a lover, Duncan was far more generous than any she could recall, though she at least suspected that on some level he still sought to show that he would not surrender easily to her lures, regardless of whether there was no more games between them of any devising -- save for those pursued by their own nature.&nbsp; Jazelle desired his release - not for anything that she would take from him, or even to feed the hunger - because it was the ultimate expression of his desire for her.&nbsp; That, she wanted, independent of hunger.<br><br>Plus, it was not every day that she could indulge herself in her true form - at least not without perhaps sending a lover into gibbering fear with the feel of her forked, agile tongue. <br><br>Every gasp, every groan, every purr acted on her senses with delight equal to the very physical ecstasy delivered by his lashing, probing, licking, and darting tongue.&nbsp; Had he used his talents on oration, she rather thought that he could have easily taken the kingdom from Bertrand and embarked up the conquering of his own empire.&nbsp; Yet she was glad that he hadn't -- no matter how well a crown might look nestled in those curls, she preferred him as he was, a warrior, resolute and strong.<br><br>She was close when she felt his body stiffen, his ass hardening to fleshy steel as muscles trembled momentarily before flexing to shove his distended cock even further into her mouth.&nbsp; Jazelle eagerly cooperated, tilting her head and letting her tongue squeeze, release, as the salty sweet taste of his seed filled her mouth and spilled into her throat.&nbsp; Greedily, she captured every drop, even as the taste, the feel of him losing himself so completely to her kisses provided that last uncontrollable shove over the precipice.&nbsp; His name was a muffled, unintelligible cry, denied by his pulsing girth denying it release, her vocal cords vibrating the sheathe of her mouth around him.<br><br>There was triumph, certainly, in her success ... but so was there tenderness, and the knowledge that this was not an end, but a continuation.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>The warmth of the water, the steam, had heated Mercy's body and had removed the last of the chill that had lingered from the hours spent in the archives of the temple.&nbsp; The desire in Lucius' eyes, and her own for him, was every bit as powerful, and seeped deep into the places the water could not not touch.<br><br>Lucius responded to her hint just as she had hoped he would and Mercy took a half step toward him, lifting a bit more of her neck from the water as his hands found her hips and lifted gently, whispering encouragement and a promise.&nbsp; &nbsp;Only the desire not to seem over-eager kept her from putting his suggestion into play immediately ... and she waited only the bare minimum heartbeats required to avoid such a judgement.&nbsp; It was not a movement that could be undertaken in half measures - to lift one leg and then the other would be more awkward than measured, and would mock the grace granted by the buoyancy.<br><br>However, before she could act on her plan, Lucius was distracted from a sound from somewhere beyond the bathing chamber.&nbsp; Mercy cocked her head, looked toward the source of the sound, and raised an eyebrow ... one hand poised upon Lucius' shoulder and the other enroute.&nbsp; She thought she recognized the tone of the growl, if not the voice from personal experience -- and she, of course, had doubted that her mother would behave any more than she would have if she and Lucius had remained in the suite.&nbsp; &nbsp;She might have resisted for a time, but some temptations were simply far too delicious to ignore.&nbsp; Her mother might have the yen toward structure that led to Mercy's opinion that she would make a good monk, but she was also a succubus -- and the general was very much a lovely physical specimen, from what she had seen.&nbsp; Apple ... tree.&nbsp; Some things were cliche for a reason.<br><br><em>"Poor Duncan?" </em>she inquired, a faint smile brightening her face as she lightly leaped up and forward, lifting her legs in a graceful scissoring movement that had some strength behind it, so that Lucius would have to deal with her weight above his center of gravity ... or be dunked along with her.<br><br>What was a little wet hair between eventual lovers?&nbsp; It was a risk she was more than willing to take.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-01-2015, 16:07:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The intense climax felt as if it just kept going, and going and going. Duncan had no idea if it was because of some magic she had over the process, if her abilities were enhancing the feeling and experience, or if it was just naturally so given all the details of their 'relationship'. Whatever it was, it was mind-numbing at first, white specks of light flirting on the edge of his vision when his eyes closed tightly as he unleashed himself within her mouth and throat. Only after those first few pulses did he realize he was pressing downward so roughly, and he quickly eased back a bit, not wanting to make it uncomfortable for her if he could help it.<br><br>The gasping groans that echoed off his bedroom walls soon turned into soft, muffled purrs as his head then fell forward, even before he was finished with his own climax, his mouth going back to work on her with a vengeance. He wasn't going to leave her hanging – no fucking way – not after she had pleasured him. How odd it was that a decade ago a woman's pleasure was secondary and on occasion wouldn't even happen. Duncan had a much different view of sex then, and now, he wanted to please Jazelle more than anything. <br><br>Two of his fingers slipped inside her, just above his mouth as his tongue tormented her slit, especially the tight, proud nub at the top of it, Two thick fingers eased in and out of her, simulating the thrusts of a hungry cock, fingertips curling upward as they pumped in and out of her, quickly coated in their combined stickiness. His licks were punctuated with soft sounds of approval from the end of his own climax, as well as the enjoyment he derived from doing this do her. His free arm lassoed one of her thighs, wrapping around it as sure as her tongue had wrapped around his shaft. <br><br>With his own pleasure sated for the time being, he didn't need to urgently go at her – but he did. He waned her to feel the same euphoria he felt, and he wanted her to feel it -now-. He noted so clearly the differences in her body, subtle or not, that her true form allowed him to see and feel. He relished that, relished the notion that he would please the -real- her, rather than a false one... because there was nothing at all false about his passion, and his own feelings towards her....<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius smiled at Mercy and gave a slight shrug. “Yes, poor Duncan. He didn't wait very long. Not like him to lose it so... quickly,” he said with a cocky grin that threatened to turn into a laugh, but didn't. “I have a feeling that your mother will not be getting off the hook so easily, though. To him, a bed is a battlefield of fluffy, perfect dimensions... and he -rarely- loses,” Lucius said, all the while, his hands moving beneath the water, touching her body, gently easing her closer to him at a patient, slow pace.<br><br>“Ever since we arrived, he'd been wanting to get rid of us. 'Duncan, my general – the kingdom is in danger'! To which he replies, 'Oh, wonderful. No, can you piss off so I can finish the spelunking I was in the middle of?' I suppose he'll give me another lecture in private at some point tomorrow,” Lucius reflected. Oh well... as long as it was -tomorrow-, and not -tonight-, he wouldn't have much objection to it.<br><br>And then she was leaping, Mercy's body moving and lifting, and Lucius's hands moved in concert with her. They slid around the sides and backs of each of her thighs as he guided them to wrap around his hardened waist. With the water, especially, the movement was easy, if not graceful, and a moment later she was wrapped around him, the top portion of her breasts glistening from the water but clearly floating above it now, not far beneath his chin as he looked up into her eyes. <br><br>If he was in a more playful mood, he'd have let the momentum carry them over – and dunk them both beneath the water's surface. But his arousal overruled any sense of 'playtime'. He had other plans, other desires that didn't quite involve water sloshing and splashing.<br><br>As he held her thee, her strong thighs wrapped around him, his hands slipping up to her back to offer support, he began walking towards the edge of the massive tub – or pool, if the word better fit the description. Upon reaching it's edge, he eased her back against the wall of the tub, his hands sliding upward beneath her armpits, then up behind her to latch onto the rounded edge of the tub's rim. <br><br>His body pressed hers firmly against the wall, and gently pulling on the rim of it with his hands and using the water to counter his weight, he rose upward a few inches, half-floating, half-leveraged with his hands, their faces once again becoming level with one another – and the unmistakable feel of his manhood pressed against the underside of her rump. With the slightest twist of his torso, and a cheeky grin on his lips, the thick slab of meat slit easily into place, the top of its length aligning with her sex from the top, the length of her slit, and down to her ass. Though there was no penetration yet, it was clear that it wouldn't take much but a slight move back, and tiny adjustment to the angle... and then a plunge forward.<br><br>“Last chance to run,” Lucius whispered then, “Last chance to avoid having your virtue stolen,” the movement of his smiling lips brushing lightly against her own as he spoke, not yet allowing a full kiss, giving her ample space to speak in reply if she wished as they both semi-floated their together, his movements fluid, slow, gentle, and graceful. As odd as the position might feel to her, there was nothing at all clumsy about his efforts so far...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-01-2015, 01:46:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>There was an immense kind of satisfaction, and triumph, in bringing her proud general to such a shuddering climax -- after how determinedly he had resisted her when under the influence of the collar.&nbsp; &nbsp;In some strange way, she was now glad that he had resisted, for it had opened the door to potential that she doubted would have been realized fully otherwise, glad that she was bound to him despite any complications.<br><br>Almost reluctantly, as the tension in his body subsided, altered, she let him slip from her mouth as her tongue slithered 'round for a last taste of his skin, shivering slightly as it rasped softly against his silken, delicate skin there.&nbsp; Her eyes closed, and she leaned back into the bed, her hands sliding from his buttocks in a gentle, almost apologetic caress, soothing where her pointed nails had dimpled the skin.<br><br>She was close, so very close, that every movement tested her control, but for just a moment she wished for nothing more to have him do as he would, her surrender almost as much for him as for herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;He threw himself at her pleasure with the same determination as he had each challenge she had laid before him, and she could do no less than resist, if only to prolong the sweet contact.<br><br>There was no difference in the pleasure she derived from his his touch on her true self -- she had felt every touch, every lick, every kiss as vibrantly, as rawly, as she felt it now.&nbsp; Yet, too, there was a subtle difference, if only that it was an indication that he accepted her fully, as she was.&nbsp; Yet there was time for only the most fleeting realization of this before thought ceased beneath the determined lashing of his tongue and the quick, demanding thrusts of his fingers inside her, the sounds coming from his lips and throat a plea, a command, that she give herself to him as completely as he had given himself to her.<br><br>The succubus was only too happy to oblige.&nbsp; Her cries, soft breathy whimpers that quickly amplified and rumbled into a wordless cry as her hips lifted, impaling her body upon his fingers, writhing against his mouth, the scrape of stubble on his cheek adding an intensity to the sensation that robbed her of thought, of control, until she jerked and trembled in small, discordant movements as waves of fiery pleasure flowed from his touch through her body, until there was nothing but warmth ... and peace.<br><br>Was this what had always been missing?&nbsp; Jazelle, when she could think again, decided that it surely must be ... for if there were more, it surely would be too much for her body to contain.<br><br><em>"You are a dangerous man, my general," </em>she whispered in a soft, husky voice of utter contentment.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em><br>"Is this to be a contest then?&nbsp; Do the two of you compare notes afterward to determine which of you have best pleasured your lover ... or lovers ... for the evening?&nbsp; Are there awards for certain achievements, a scale weighted for difficulty and complexity?"&nbsp; </em>Mercy waited to ask the question until Lucius had 'caught' her, and she was certain that to open her mouth to pose her query wouldn't end up with a less than seductive bout of sputtering and choking.&nbsp; There was no outrage in the question, and her smile was broad, teasing.&nbsp; She had been witness to such games, and had even occasionally allowed herself to become a ... target for success or failure, to which she performed based on her own judgement of worthiness and whether or not she had placed a bet.<br><br>On the whole, though, such games were unnecessary, and quickly became trite when they eclipsed the act itself.&nbsp; True sensual pleasure needed no such trappings, and so long as those involved departed satisfied ... or hungry for more ... she considered it a 'win'.<br><br><em>"And would you not have done the same, were it we similarly engaged?"</em>&nbsp; Her look&nbsp; was no less pointed, the expectation in her eyes.&nbsp; <em>"After all, there has been no attack to respond to, and little to do save wait on the machinations of some dusty wizard ... is this not time better spent, getting to know one another, finding out our little idiosyncrasies, determining whether we are reluctant companions in the midst of adversity, or staunch allies?&nbsp; &nbsp;How can I be expected to know how well you wield your sword with only one short-lived demonstration?&nbsp; How can you know whether I am worth defending, or can be trusted to watch your back ... as opposed to your back-side ... if you have not plumbed my depths?"</em><br><br>With Lucius more than willing, it seemed, to do the work of navigating them both thru the bath, Mercy was free to engage in word-play, and breast play as well, as she adjusted her lean so that his steps caused her generous orbs to sway and bounce softly.&nbsp; She was playful, but not determinedly so, and well disposed to be distracted if, or whenever, her warrior would-be lover decided to be serious.&nbsp; The heat of the water, the mineral content, had warmed away the last of the drafty dungeon chill of the archives, and the ongoing flirtation, and the memory of how well they had worked together in concert, and Lucius' own charms had left her in a lazy state of arousal that would soon demand attention, whether it be Lucius' or her own.<br><br>So long as it seemed he knew what he was doing, Mercy was more than willing to let him demonstrate his ingenuity and expertise.&nbsp; The tiled tub wall was warm against her back, and she languidly aided his efforts, her arms wrapping around his neck, hands crossed at the wrists as she enjoyed the feel of his muscled chest pressed firmly against her bare breasts, his sword angling as if measuring her body for size before taking the first plunge, delightfully thick and firm as it slid through the water, against warm, wetted skin, into place.<br><br><em>"If I intended running, handsome, I would have chosen a field where I had my feet under me, rather than resting on your ass," </em>Mercy responded in the same, soft sibilant&nbsp; manner as she poked him with her toes. <em> "And what virtue I have remaining is in no danger, no matter how deep your blade thrusts.&nbsp; And ... I have to say ... at this point .... I think .... "</em>&nbsp; Mercy continued to speak softly, her lips brushing against his, her breath tickling and still faintly scented with Duncan's good wine, until the last sentence.&nbsp; Then, her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly, and she moved to delivering little kisses, little nips, flicks of her tongue against his lips to punctuate each pause. <em> "... that you ... are ... stalling."<br></em><br>She paused, eyes opening as she leaned back just a little.&nbsp; <em>"Not that I object, of course.&nbsp; We have, after all, until the morning ... unless your wizard is an early riser."<br></em><br>And if he were, she would be surprised.&nbsp; Most that she had known, in civilized settings, were more like nobles, preferring to go to sleep with the sun rather than rise with it.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>23-01-2015, 09:09:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan carefully held himself above her still, not putting any of his weight on her as he finished the deed. She wasn't going to get away from him without giving him what he sought. He wasn't going to lay there and try to sleep feeling the satisfaction of being drained – while she, herself, had not enjoyed the same sort of contentmnet. <br><br>Fuck. No.<br><br>He gorged on her sex like he'd never done to a woman before. Maybe he imagined her taste being as addictive as it was, but he didn't care. Her body might be engineered to lure him in.. but he didn't care. Her touches, her tongue, her -everything- might have been created for sin and lust, to pleasure countless men before him and countless after...<br><br>And he still didn't care.<br><br>In the here and now, she was with him, in his bed, beneath his tongue – and she was going to cum for him or he'd do this to her until she did. It was just that simple. <br><br>As she worked herself up into a near-frenzy, he could sense when she was close – and the sudden increase in volume of her cries told him she was going over. Right at that point was when his teeth lightly clamped down on her clit – she trusted him with her sensitive parts, and he wasn't about to hurt her, but he certainly was going to do his best to send her over the edge in style. <br><br>With his body above her, a slight tilt of his head allowed his eyes to look up her body, past her firm breasts right to her horned head as the she-demon came for him, and it was an -amazing- sight. He purred and moaned deeply as he tasted her wetness increased, and his tongue rampaged all about her sex to spread it, to taste it, to touch her gloriously wherever that nimble appendage could reach.<br><br>On when her movements began to subside, did he subside, slowing along with her body at the same pace, making sure not to touch the oversensitive parts of her body for now. With one last, tiny flick of his tongue, he teased her swollen clit one more time as if in fond farewell. Just as she was his lover, Duncan truly believed her clit and his tongue belonged together just as much.<br><br>Slowly, then, he moved, though not with the urgency of before. Carefully he shifted his body to turn around and move up to lay beside her, one of his strong legs bending and crossing over her thighs as if gently pinning her in place on her back. He did the polite thing and quickly ran the back of his palm across his lips – then lowered his face to kiss her chin very lightly. His free hand moved up to caress one of her horns very gently as well, as if exploring it with his fingertips.<br><br>“Me? Dangerous?” he asked softly, then shook his head. “I am not the demon,” he reminded her, though he knew of course she didn't need it. “I am not the seducer. I am not the one who has burrowed inside your brain, consuming your ever thought. No – those are -your- trademarks, lover.”<br><br>His lips moved from her chin down along her jawline. “Me? I am just a man. A weak one. Just like all the other men you've seduced,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I had hoped... I would be -different-,” he chuckled softly, his lips reached her ear. “I had hoped at the start that I could.. withstand you. But in the end... I feel myself falling...”<br><br>His teeth gently nibbled her earlobe, the gentle touch of her white silken hair brushing part of his face.<br><br>“...And I know there will be no one there to catch me.”<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy's questions in response to his comment about Duncan -obviously- losing his load elsewhere in the general's quarters made him chuckle openly. He sure didn't seem offended, and if anything, he found it funny.<br><br>“We -used- to do that,” he admitted with a slight shrug. “When we were... boys. Many years ago. We were competitive with the ladies, yes. The rewards would be, of course – the women we chose to pursue, and the one who got the woman of choice was by default the 'winner',” he said. “He won -slightly- more often than me, but I still say that it was because of his position and nothing else,” he said, his voice playfully defensive and indignant. <br><br>Then, his smile faded somewhat as his eyes met hers. “I have to admit, though.... that I am incredibly grateful that he hasn't shown an interest in you... That... pleases me more than you know.” It was a gentle admission, with soft words and a soft expression. But the cocky smile returned, hints of his bravado, along with the skeins of mischief that seemed to permeate his very being once she asked him if he would not have done the same, and all her words that came after.<br><br>By the time her little rant was done, as pleasing and enjoyable as it was to hear – he was laughing softly again. “Oh, you are too wise,” he said with a shake of his head. “But to answer your questions truthfully – yes, I would have done the same thing, but instead, it would have been my lady-partner crying out first – not me,” he assured her with a seemingly healthy dose of confidence. “And getting to know one another in -every- way is quite beneficial to all, and a wise step in preparing our defenses,” he agreed, nodding his head, smile still wide on his lips.<br><br>“I'd like to think that we are staunch allies, though, rather than reluctant companions. At least, for my part – there is not a single ounce of reluctance flowing through -these- veins,” he promised. “As for how well I wield my blade – you can either take my word for it, or... you can allow the demonstration that you seemed interested in a little while ago. “And I trust you to guard -all- of me... backside included. Is that wrong of me? Am I a fool for doing so, trusting the daughter of a demon so readily? Hmmm, perhaps that makes me a fool, but I can tell you, it would not be the first time I've been accused of such things...”<br><br>She didn't resist his slow, deliberate maneuvers. He didn't appear to be in any rush, unless she could feel his pulse, feel the rapid pounding of his heart as his adrenaline kept him in motion. As he gently eased her back against the wall of the pool, she extended her arms over his shoulders as their bodies made slight shifts and adjustments, his own hands having reached up to either side of her and latched onto the edge of the tub for leverage, and to hold them both firmly in place. She was caged then, between him and the tub wall, his hips between her thighs, her legs around his lower waist, her arms around his neck. <br><br>She then spoke of running – or what she would be doing if flight was her intent. It was too late for that now, even when he offered her the chance to do so. Their bodies continued to close in, melding together as if two pieces of puzzle that had been apart for an age. Their lips brushed together softly – not quite a kiss, but a tease of one as her words continued to come slowly, haltingly, until her accusation of his stalling reached his ears. He snorted softly at that, obviously disagreeing, but then she admitted that she didn't object to the slow and thorough approach, as they had until sun-up after all.<br><br>“No, my lady,” he said softly, his lips moving closer to hers to close the distance again. “The wizard is most definitely not an early riser...” he said, pausing for a moment.<br><br>“But I am.”<br><br>With seeming ease, his hips flexed – and she'd feel the head of his cock part her nethers and ease into her tunnel as if it had been there before. With the water as it was, he knew that it was likely her body's natural wetness would be less so, and with that in mind, he knew he had to do two things – keep her stimulated, and go easy.<br><br>No problem.<br><br>His hips worked back, then, after only feeding her hungry sex the head of his manhood, and he didn't completely withdraw, either, maintaining contact to keep some of the water at bay as he edged forward again, muscles on his back and ass flexing to guide his movement, <br><br>Then his lips found hers again, slow, gentle at first – but quickly devolving into something heated – if she followed his lead. With the stone wall behind her, with his natural weight and his hands working leverage against the rim of the tub, his third thrust was deeper still, and once the fourth struck home, firm and easily paced, he hilted inside her with a soft groan, his lips freezing their motion for a moment on her lips, as his entire body seemed to simply freeze, enjoying every sensation he felt in that moment. <br><br>For the second time that night his cock had tasted demon-flesh. Well... one demon, and one half-demon, but he was rounding up.<br><br>Slowly he pulled his lips away, a smile on them as he didn't move back&nbsp; far. “Very nice,” he whispered, “Very pleasant... are you feeling alright so far?” he asked, and though he smiled, there was a small hint of seriousness in his voice, simply wanting to make sure she was comfortable. The position wasn't exactly 'normal', and though he seemed to have them both in a suitable position, he wasn't sure this was something she would like regardless.<br><br>Inside her, his length throbbed gently, pulsing as if in time with his heartbeat. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-01-2015, 02:05:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>As Duncan spoke, soft, teasing words between kisses, Jazelle reflected silently that he did not know how wrong he was in his assumptions, though perhaps it was good that he did not.&nbsp; He was not 'just' a man, and nor was he like the others whom she had brought to her bed.&nbsp; He was different, as different as the desert was from the sea.<br><br>She closed her eyes as his teeth grazed her skin, and whispered in response, <em>"In that you are wrong, my General.&nbsp; I am there, and will always be."</em><br><br>Even if she had not been bound there by her word, her heart demanded it ... for it seemed that a demon could possess such a thing, though she had not known it before now.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><em><br>"Should I be insulted at his lack of interest, or should I simply chalk it up to the whole mother/daughter thing?" </em>Mercy asked slyly, but without much seriousness.&nbsp; There were certainly some interesting dynamics in play, for as handsome as her mother's lover might be, he felt 'hands off' to her, though not because of some convoluted kinship.&nbsp; Her eyes widened slightly as she made the connection, and her smile widened, but she did not share her thought with Lucius, or pursue the subject further, even though Lucius' admission deserved some further thought.<br><br><em>"It's a succubus thing,"</em> she explained with a shrug. <em> "But I'm only half.&nbsp; I'm quite good with two, three, or four to your one, so be as generous as you like.&nbsp; I enjoy being greedy, in the right circumstances."</em><br><br>As their tease continued, Lucius claimed to be an early riser, which she took to be a metaphor rather than a statement that he got up with the chickens.&nbsp; &nbsp;To bolster her assumption, he made a slight movement that had the tip of his much vaunted sword sliding into position to be sheathed.&nbsp; It was a deft, effortless movement devoid of awkwardness, and Mercy's eyes locked on his, her smile softening into something expectant and anticipatory.<br><br>This was always a pivotal sort of moment in Mercy's view.&nbsp; No matter the foreplay, the teasing, the touching, that first moment of penetration was heady, with pun or without, and a moment worth committing to memory.&nbsp; The water had softened, swollen her nether lips and washed away some of her body's lubrication, her juices made for the purpose of easing just such passage.&nbsp; He felt all the larger for it, stretching tight muscle to what felt, for just a tiny moment, like its limit.&nbsp; Yet, her body had been made for this, not as completely perhaps, as her mother's, and at the feel of his push within, it worked to compensate, slicking her walls around him, inviting.&nbsp; &nbsp; She made a soft, encouraging sound as he eased farther in, sweetly gentle, that melted into his kiss, her lips parting and tongue meeting his in invitation.&nbsp; The angle was good, his movement teasing gently at sensitive, hungry skin, forcing his length against the softly ridged muscle of her tunnel walls in a manner that she found incredibly sensual.<br><br>She did not forget Lucius' earlier encounter with the denizen of the abyss, or how nearly he had come to losing at least a goodly portion of his life, and perhaps his soul as well.&nbsp; That he had escaped with so little wound to his spirit or his psyche was a testament to a strength of self that was worthy of further investigation, and perhaps admiration as well.&nbsp; &nbsp;To have so narrowly escaped a succubus had left men with terrors that could take months or years to heal, and yet ... mere hours after his ordeal, his desire had returned full force.<br><br>Her eyes opened as he leaned out of the kiss, her tongue following to tease at her upper lip as if she missed the warmth of his already.&nbsp; &nbsp;At his soft whisper, her lips curved upward again, just faintly. <em> "Not bad," </em>she allowed, holding her expression until the smile spilled over.&nbsp; &nbsp; As his cock throbbed inside her, little pulses, flinches of movement that she could feel like tiny, tiny caresses, she tightened, released, tightened, released the muscles that surrounded him, as well as the muscles of her thighs, shifting against him.&nbsp; &nbsp; There was nothing hurried, nothing frantic ... only a lazy, sweet exploration ... a non-verbal questioning.&nbsp; Does this feel good?&nbsp; This?&nbsp; And this? <br><br>For Mercy, the answer to each of those questions was 'yes', as they meandered their way along the path of discovery.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>24-01-2015, 12:05:50</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan did not refute her words, nor did he seek to argue the point or start a debate. He wanted to believe her, and 'wanting' to believe her was half the battle. He liked the way it sounded, he liked the way -she- sounded, and he was choosing to take her at her word until she gave him reason enough not to. So far, since that very first meeting and their very first exchange of words what felt like forever ago, she had been honest with him completely, as far as he was aware.<br><br>He continued to kiss along her skin, dragging his teeth lightly along it, nipping it occasionally as well. Duncan wanted to simply celebrate her body, lavishing it with touches and tiny pleasures that, in turn, demonstrated his own that he felt in return. How could he not appreciate the woman who could make him feel this way so easily, so quickly? Even though she had a forked tongue, horns, milky-white eyes and equally white hair did not change his opinion, and in fact, it only served to solidify it.<br><br>Duncan continued this soft, gentle worshiping of her for quite some time. He made no further attempts in the immediate future to rekindle her passion, and he seemed very content to simply touch, explore, and caress for now. <br><br>She was beautiful to him. And in his eyes, she was beautiful inside and out. No matter the rules and anecdotes written about demons, this one was different – and in a show of faith on that very point, Duncan had bet his heart on it.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>“Should you be insulted by his lack of interest?” Lucius echoed, as if pondering the thought. “No... you should be grateful, all things considered,” he said softly, his playful smile never wavering. “He is a -terrible- lover. Boring. Selfish. He enjoys losing his load... prematurely,” he said, though the tone of his voice might very well be a -bit- overdone and lacked much seriousness, just as hers had. “I'd wager a woman like you would break him twice as fast as your mother would... a blink of an eye, a single thrust, a rush of warmth and... sleepy time,” he said with an exaggerated look of sadness.<br><br>He chuckled in response to her admission of it being a 'succubus thing'. Then he raised a brow a she confessed she is good with tow, three, or four to one. “Oh, really? You would endure four to one... for me?” he asked, emphasizing how 'grateful' he sounded that she would do such a thing. <br><br>“Well, with such enormous pressure weighing down on these humble shoulders... I suppose I should get to work, then, since I apparently have a busy schedule ahead of me...”<br><br>Part of the reason for the kiss at that precise moment was so that he wouldn't have to, or be expected to speak. Not when his mind was focused on that first plunge, eager yet restrained, curious yet cautious. If she were some whore-monger with legs that parted as easy as a well-used tavern door, then the fit would be loose and roomy. Instead, he found her to be quite the opposite. The water had made her natural wetness less noticeable than it normally would be, at least until he was well within her depths. This made her grip feel even more snug, and her soft, encouraging sound gave him unspoken permission to continue until he was firmly planted within her.<br><br>By comparison, the succubus earlier -had- been...&nbsp; less impressive. By far. Part of him regretted that Mercy had -seen- that... but she didn't seem at a loss for desire because of it. For his part, he had been left unfulfilled through that earlier romp, and to him, that was secretly the most tragic part about the entire mess. How he would have loved to sent that bitch back to the black pits with a copious load of off-white spunk plastering her face before she disappeared! But alas, from the sound of it, reaching -that- point would have 'came' with its own price, a price he was not willing to pay.<br><br>But -this- one... this one he might very well pay such a price, if it would allow him the satisfaction of the grand finish with her in some way.<br><br>She said only two words to him, 'Not bad'... which of course could be taken in a variety of ways. But as he held her there, and himself within, she slowly let her smile escape, and in turn, his own smile equaled her own. Each part of their bodies, where connected, throbbed and swelled, adjusted and contracted, both of them seeking to mold the perfect fit... and it didn't take long to achieve that. <br><br>“Oh, -not bad-, you say?” he whispered, his hips easing back – then easing forward again, only withdrawing part way so as to keep the well-oiled part of his shaft within her, to avoid the water's effects as much as possible. Lucius used his hands on the rim of the pool for a good part of his leverage, his knees down below against the pool's wall also used to help guide his movement. Nothing about it was clumsy or uneven despite the conditions, and for her part, Mercy was actually almost 'floating' between his arms to either side, and between the pool's wall and his chest, back and front respectively. The thrust, of course, pressed her ass back against the wall, offering no give as he pressed agaisnt her again, his eyes locked on hers, their faces only inches apart. His breathing was controlled, smooth, though his heart pounded rapidly in his chest if she were aware of such things. <br><br>“I suppose... I could agree with your assessment...,” he whispered, his movements so practiced and careful, as if seeking the perfect angle, the perfect stroke, the perfect spot to caress her internal walls with the most noticeable effect. His eyes studied her face for response, as he continued to gently test her depths... just as he had promised....<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-01-2015, 22:40:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)<br></div>Lucius was, in Mercy's estimation, a rare find -- a warrior with confidence, a sense of humor, and the humility to laugh at himself, as well as what seemed to be the hint of the wisdom of knowing when it was time to concentrate on the matter at hand.<br><br>This wasn't a serious matter, though there was a serious core at its depths.&nbsp; Mercy was aware of both levels, and it was her estimation that Lucius was as well.&nbsp; At least in her mind, this was not a casual encounter with hungers stoked to a fever pitch and forgotten before goodbyes were said.&nbsp; &nbsp;This was the continuation of 'a' beginning, where the tone and direction of their future interactions would be set.<br><br>Mercy was content to play -&nbsp; Succubi played as well, but their form of play was more like the variety practiced by a hungry feline, where claws were sunk in and blood flowed, before the tenderest morsels were ripped out and consumed.&nbsp; Mercy liked things neater -- when she was a predator, she liked it clean and fast, and she didn't much mix sensual pleasure in the doing. <br><br>When she was playing, she liked the pleasure to be mutual, after a fashion -- though as she had confessed, she had no complaints if a lover wanted to be generous.&nbsp; There was pleasure in pleasing another, after all.<br><br>Despite their slow movements, whispered teasing, neither of them were taking anything at all for granted.&nbsp; &nbsp;Their breathing remained slow and steady, though she suspected it was as much an act of control on his part as on hers.&nbsp; She could feel his excitement in the pulse of his blood where her arms pressed against his neck, in the gentle thrum against her breasts, in the pulse of his cock solidly impaled in the tight embrace of her tunnel, and she assumed that she could feel hers as well, thudding with an eager strength that belied the lazy response.<br><br>No matter what their words said, their bodies were communicating just fine.&nbsp; Her mouth said "Not bad" but her eyes said, "Nice, very nice" and the grip of her walls around his girth said "Fuck, yes," and a few other complimentary encouragements.&nbsp; &nbsp;He wasn't hurrying, and neither was she ... but when their movements found just that right combination, the one that made her eyes close against the powerful, tickling surge of primal promise, she breathed out an 'ohhhhhh' to let him know ... even as she noted the minute changes of expression, the tensing of his muscles.<br><br>Since he was a little busy anchoring them, Mercy took the initiative to add another dimension to their slow discovery, using her arms to pull her torso closer into his until her breasts were flattened against his pectorals, tilting her head to press her mouth to his, one hand cupping the back of his head as her fingers pushed into his wet hair.<br><br>He felt good, incredibly good, hard in all the right places, soft in the right ones, not at all shy about touching and being touched.&nbsp; A hedonist, some might say, but Mercy saw nothing wrong with pursuing one's own pleasure -- so long as that did not become an all-consuming goal.&nbsp; Lucius' behavior suggested that his priorities, and his heart, were ... in the right place.&nbsp; And, at the moment ... so was his cock.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-01-2015, 07:54:40</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>To most onlookers, or anyone glancing at the woman before him in any other regular setting, it likely wouldn't dawn on anyone that she was what she was. But to Lucius, imbedded within her now, he could -feel- that she was... different. <br><br>Maybe it was his imagination. Maybe it was just the heady bit of lust he had been harboring since the encounter earlier in the night that saw him denied his sweet ending when he had been so very close. And, in fact, he had been denied that ending by the woman whom he now impaled. Sweet irony? Or some more insidious diabolical plan? Whatever it was, he didn't care – Mercy felt like heaven to him, and if he had to suffer a little in exchange, he felt he could deal with whatever might come his way.<br><br>Lucius, too, enjoyed 'playing'. He obviously enjoyed teasing, and apparently he enjoyed foreplay, whether it was with touches or words. Was he a 'generous' lover? He liked to think so, though there was even a bit of selfishness in that, as well. How many beauties had he seduced, pleasured to the point of exhaustion... only to have them come back to him over and over again? That was the key, what he and Duncan had both learned early on. Got at a woman in bed to pleasure only yourself, and that woman would not likely return to that same bed. But give them what they wanted -first-, THEN get what you wanted, and not only is everyone satisfied, but you likely would not have an empty bed many nights out of the week.<br><br>But Lucius also knew when shit 'got real'. Right now, thrusting slowly, firmly, deeply into Mercy, their gazes locked – oh, it was -real-, alright. She had ample breasts that pressed against his pecs, and he could feel a strength in her own body that would make more physical love-making all the more intense. She wasn't the sweet, fragile rose, lying in front of him helpless and waiting. Mercy was quite the opposite, or so his instincts told him, and his instincts were rarely wrong.<br><br>Both of their heartbeats were fierce and strong, as if trying to match each other beat for beat. He controlled his breathing, timing it with his movements, the wet ends of his own long hair plastered to his back and shoulders. <br><br>Both of them said words that downplayed what they were each feeling. He knew it, and he bet she knew it as well. Neither was wanting to admit it, perhaps, that the other was as pleasurable as they were. Would it be sign of weakness? Were they both so prideful that they didn't want to 'submit' to the pleasure too quickly? Each movement was slightly different, as if he was searching for the -right one-, for Lucius believed -every- woman had -that one stroke- that could turn them into a puddle. The key was finding it... exploiting it... and then just waiting for the moans to begin.<br><br>On the next thrust, his hips down slightly lower, surging his length more upward than level, Mercy's eyes closed... a good first sign, he thought to himself as a faint smile played across his lips. He repeated it for good measure... and that time it was answered by a soft moan from her lips. His muscles tensed, bent, tightened in an effort to repeat that stroke again... and again.<br><br>Her arms free, she pulled herself more fully against him, her hands slipping into his wet hair, her lips pressing to his. It was a slow, delicious kiss and he welcomed it completely, but it did nothing to slow his easy, firm stroking movement. His hands tightened on the rim of the tub, his knees pressed against the wall of the tub, feeling himself firmly grounded, his hips curling now in shallow movements as he stroked her back and forth, his tongue seeking hers as each of his thrusts gently pinned her ass against the stone. <br><br>Now it was just a matter of time, he thought to himself... 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>27-01-2015, 04:21:56</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)<br></div>Distrust, on some level, was almost inevitable when demon blood flowed through one's veins.&nbsp; Over the years, Mercy had gotten used to it, expected it, exploited it ... and it no longer hurt.&nbsp; The verbal jousting with Lucius had been enjoyable, exciting, arousing -- the perfect foreplay, exciting and engaging the mind before the first touch.&nbsp; Did he like her?&nbsp; Yes, she thought that he did, even as she liked him.&nbsp; &nbsp;Did he trust her?&nbsp; Perhaps a bit, but certainly not completely.<br><br>It was enough, for now.<br><br>From what she could tell, Lucius ... and Duncan, too, at some point ... had made a game out of their sexual conquests.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were two kinds of games - the games played with others as consenting participants and those games that were played against others.&nbsp; Her sense was that Lucius was not the sort who played with those who didn't understand the game; players of that game had very little in the way of heart.&nbsp; Lucius was not devoid of heart, no matter his irreverence.<br><br>Mercy was playing, just as he was, but there was a core of seriousness in the play, combining her own enjoyment with something more -- a determination of worthiness.&nbsp; Her god ... sought out warriors of note, and she had come here just when one with infamous lineage had been threatened.&nbsp; Could he have a part to play in her god's grand design?<br><br>But for now, she was interested more in how well his body was designed to fit hers.&nbsp; Granted, she had some advantages that stacked the deck in her favor, but with heart, without focus, it would be as flavorless as a meal without spices, adequate and sufficient to stave off hunger for a time but little more.<br><br>Her body's reactions, her soft moan of pleasure released, provided the answer he had been seeking, and his reaction was immediate as she pulled her body to his, mouth upon mouth.&nbsp; His hips found the rhythm of that perfect stroke, rocking slowly against her, using the leverage of the slick wall behind them to delve deep in a slow, unhurried rhythm, her legs tightening and easing, as if they were working in unison to climb a mountain or some other task requiring steady deliberation.<br><br>Mercy fought, tested, no longer, but only encouraged, welcomed ... her mouth and tongue working against his, nipping, suckling, probing as his thrusts nudged her closer and closer, their movements a slow, steady dance punctuated by the soft splash of displaced water.&nbsp; He had been determined to outlast his would-be lover when Mercy had interrupted ... but that was absolutely fine with Mercy, who was only part demon&nbsp; The tickle of the water, the heat, the taste of Lucius' mouth, the rub of his chest against her taut nipples, the stretching pull/push of his distended cock within her were delicious, perfect in speed and intensity, and the alu-demon felt no shame whatsoever as her body trembled, tensed.&nbsp; Instead her lips found his tongue, sucking it hard into her mouth as he pushed inside ... and her moans became a series of muffled cries,&nbsp; her hands moving to bring his body hard against hers, and hers to his.<br><br>There was winning, and there was losing ... and this .... was not losing. <br><br>Mercy could almost find it in her heart to pity the succubus who had been driven away before the best part.&nbsp; Well, okay, she couldn't. <br><br>She much preferred Lucius alive, vital, and capable of his own end game.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>02-02-2015, 16:10:56</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>No... Lucius did not trust her 'completely'. Such a thing was reserved for special persons, at least in Lucius's experience. He number of people he fully trusted could be counted on one hand, with a few fingers left over to spare. That number had been greater before, in the past, when he learned the hard way that such trust came with a high price when such trust was violated. Some people were more openly trusting than others, and Lucius privately felt such people were naive and perhaps even a little touched in the mind. <br><br>Now, he -had- to trust Mercy at least to some degree. Much of what she said had the support of things he could -see-. How had she found him and the demoness going at it in his room? Her claims on that matter were likely true. How had Jazelle so easily seduced the general? Mercy's explanations on that matter were also quite likely true. And Mercy's confession that she was Jazelle's daughter was not only likely true, but Mercy had little to gain by admitting such a thing, taking away an advantage she might have had, had she remained silent on the topic. Instead, admitting it had set Lucius on edge, made his likelihood of trusting her much lower because of it...<br><br>Yet, there he was, plunging his cock into her body as if she were his lover and his alone.<br><br>To be so intimate with someone did require -some- level of trust. Of course, earlier that evening he had proven that 'trust' could come easy, if he had something to gain from it. Perhaps in the end, he trusted himself to be able to fend off a woman if she turned psycho on him - as the succubus had just a few hours previously. Lucius of course talked a big game, feeling he could have escaped the demon's grasp, but that was something he wasn't so sure of now. If Mercy's explanation on that matter was true... it was likely that Lucius had been heading towards a very unfortunate end.<br><br>He would just have to trust her on that.<br><br>As he settled into a smooth, steady rhythm, not pushing it too quickly, nor going too slowly, he felt her legs tighten around him, settling in to a firm grip on him that she took as a good sign. With the shallow thrusts he used, he wasn't so worried about the water cleansing away her body's natural lubricant too quickly, even though it took -some- amount of effort not to withdraw more, not to deliver long, harder strokes, feeling the intensity of restraint and restriction in his movements. But that was all internalized as he continued his efforts, his lips on hers, his hands gripping the smooth stone of the tub's rim when he -wanted- to be gripping parts of her body instead.<br><br>Those restraints, and limitations, only sought to enhance and increase the intensity, though. Even as he felt her very pleasurable breasts push against his chest, and the taste of her tongue on his own, those limitations imposed by their environment added a delightful layer of excitement to their shared endeavor. Her hands were free to roam, and he found himself envious of that. He consoled himself gently by reassuring himself that, in time, he'd have her in -other- ways where his hands would be able to roam... he wasn't even sure there would -be- a 'next time', but with his confidence and demeanor, he found it hard to believe there wouldn't be.<br><br>He felt the grip of her thighs ease slightly whenever he eased back, only to tighten again when he eased forth into her. That gentle hint of tension tightened her grip on his length, which was quite noticeable. Of course this didn't surprise him, considering her own admission that she could 'adjust' the dimensions of her body accordingly, and of course she was going to use that to her advantage...<br><br>Her kiss was aggressive, or became more so the longer they played at it, and he responded in kind. Occasionally he turned his head to the other side, attacking her lips quite emphatically, their tongues locked in a dance all their own. There had been little, if any, kissing of the bitch he had taken in his quarters earlier, and he understood the reasoning now - the first demon's desires and goals had been much different than Mercy's was, that was evident to him. The demoness earlier had been working furiously toward a single goal - to send him over the edge as quickly as possible. Mercy was not doing that herself - unless it was in such a subtle way that Lucius simply missed it, even though he thought that was unlikely.<br><br>Then Mercy's body began to tremble against him, and tense tightly as if going solid as a board. The next thrust found her mouth backing away, just enough so that her lips sucked his tongue hard, as if her mouth had a firm grip on his cock. It was a sensual moment, feeling her do that just as she climaxed, using his tongue to muffle her cries, one after another, her hands pulling him desperately tight against her - a move he was all too willing to oblige. In response, it only took a little focus, a slight bit of effort on his part to flex that thickened appendage that he now buried inside her - twitching, throbbing it on purpose in her tunnel as she experienced her climax.<br><br>When her mouth went slack somewhat a few moments later, his tongue retreated, like some escaping prisoner making its way out of her mouth. Lips brushing hers, he whispered to her.<br><br>"Yes... enjoy this, Mercy...," his confident whisper spoke. He could -feel- the contractions of her tunnel around him, and for his part, it took some effort not to lose himself in the moment. He could quite easily do so - he knew his limitations, and right at that moment, half-dozen thrusts would end it, joining her in bliss if he so desired. But he didn't. Where as with the other demoness, he wasn't so keen on how 'much' he pleasured her, with Mercy it was the complete opposite. He wanted to pleasure her again. He wanted to impress her. He wanted... well, he wanted -her- to want more of -him-. Besides, to withstand the assault of a succubus, only to cave-in when it came to enjoying Mercy's delights - what would that say about him? <br><br>His soft whispers continued, slow and seductive, encouraging her, complimenting her, his head moving beside hers to whisper lewd suggestions in her ear as their bodies remained pinned together. <br><br>And after she had come down from her precipice, he gently removed himself from her completely. He eased his head back so that he could look her in the eye. His legs lowered from pinning his knees against the wall of the tub, his feet reaching the pool's floor as he then released the pool's edge, slowly turned, and began walking with her back toward the shallow end.<br><br>"Can you hear that?" he asked with a faint smile on his lips, his eyes looking off to the side as if he had caught some sound she hadn't. "That is a nearby bed calling us both by name," he said gently, their bodies rising slowly out of the water with each slow step that he took. His hands moved down the sides of her body, down and around to cradle her ass in his palms, her legs still wrapped around him... obviously not intending to let her go. <br><br>"Unless, of course, you have some better place to be?"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>04-02-2015, 04:35:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy needed no encouragement to enjoy the climax that crashed through her as Lucius' hips stilled and his body moved from a slow, deliberate dance of mutual pleasure to supporting and holding her through the vulnerable moments when distraction would have been most unwelcome.&nbsp; She could feel his breath on the shell of her ear, cooling the wet strands of her hair, the warmth mixing with the steam from the pool, tickling as he whispered to her.&nbsp; The words ran the gamut from sweet, tender reassurances to promises and threats of what else they might enjoy together, a masterful work of verbal seduction that the succubus, the woman, and the schemer in her appreciated.<br><br>The intensity of the feelings faded quickly; the sweet languorous aftermath lingered, and Mercy did nothing to speed it's course.&nbsp; When Lucius moved, disengaging from the full intimacy of their embrace, she opened her eyes and gazed into his with acceptance rather than question or reproach, though she could feel from the swell of his girth within her that he was as yet unsatisfied.<br><br>His pride had been dealt a blow fiercer, perhaps, than any other part of him from the succubus' near victory -- or perhaps he merely used that excuse to shield himself from the full realization of the horrors of what would have awaited him had the demoness captured his essence.&nbsp; It was, in Mercy's eye, no weakness, to deal with small defeats in whatever way seemed best, and even if she had not developed an almost immediate fondness for this cocky warrior, she would not have wished to see him scarred by his encounter.&nbsp; It cost her nothing and benefited her greatly to offer healing in this manner -- a novelty that was not lost on her, since her god did not grant healing to those who could not endure its pain.<br><br>Her head cocked to one side when he asked if she could hear 'that', and she laughed softly as he revealed his trap, an innocent joy in the game of words that invited play rather than challenged.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Now that you mention it, I believe I do.&nbsp; A helpful, welcoming bed at that, with soft pillows and warm blankets."</em><br><br>She could have reminded him that she could walk, and was, in fact, quite capable of it.&nbsp; She could have, but ... he didn't truly seem all that tired, and she liked the feeling of being carried so&nbsp; intimately, so securely.&nbsp; And then there was curiosity ... exactly where, and how far was he intending to go?<br><br>Imagining Jazelle's expression, and what she imagined Duncan's might be, should they return to the suite like this, prompted a giggle and a flash of white teeth, which she concealed with a playful nip on Lucius' shoulder that did little to disguise the mirth in her eyes.&nbsp; Her mother had missed her teenage years ... or at least most of them.&nbsp; What was the saying?<br><br>Better late than never?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>11-02-2015, 09:43:13</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Even though the water's aid in suspending her in front of him was gone now, she was still light enough that she did not pose a burned to Lucius, and wouldn't, at least for awhile. He'd carried heavier loads on some of the marches he'd been apart of, and this load he only planned to carry for a few moments at most. And, of course, he'd never carried a load -quite- like this one.<br><br>Water dripped from them both onto the floor as his feet made soft, wet sounds with each slow, careful step. He walked with a sultry confidence, cock buried inside her, as if that thick appendage was keeping her pressed to him by its effort alone. She faced him, of course, and his eyes were, for the most part, on her face as well. She was -gorgeous- to look upon, as any demon-woman likely would be, the ideal woman, the perfectly shaped body, inviting eyes and lips all. It didn't surprise him, and being the bit of a lecher that he was, he simply enjoyed it, knowing that he was going to find his pleasure with this one tonight, most likely quite furiously so.<br><br>She answered his observation about a nearby bed, and she certainly sounded favorable towards the idea. He smiled slightly at her response, his eyes still drinking her in as he carried her out into the hallway, his long hair wetly clinging to the skin of his shoulders and back. Each step he took gently shifted him inside her body, sending pleasurable sensations into his core. It was almost self-teasing, but it was a kind of self-teasing that Lucius was more than happy to endure.<br><br>“Are you -certain- you have demon blood in you at all?” he asked softly, eyes narrowed in that fake-curious way. “I just so happen to have fucked a demon recently, and you feel -infinitely- more pleasurable than she did,” he complimented softly, “So I have to wonder if you really are demon-kin at all....” It was a playful 'doubt' that he expressed – he believed what he had heard from her, from Jazelle... and Duncan's acceptance of that information was what drove it home. Lucius knew he could take these revelations at face value. But he didn't mind teasing her a bit by it, by way of complimenting her – especially when he meant every word. The succubus had been pleasurable – and had come close to claiming his seed – and part of his life, apparently. But Mercy was altogether a different sort of pleasure... one that surpassed the pleasures he had enjoyed earlier... and surpassed it by -miles-. <br><br>Each step he took built up the anticipation of having her on her back, in a bed, with leverage and all the other sensations that came along with it. His hands – or at least one of them – would be free to roam, where they weren't in the pool, and boy did he want to -touch- her. In his eyes she might even be able to see that look, a look that silently said, 'shit was about to get serious'... in more ways than one....<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan lay sprawled around, across, over, and next to Jazelle, enjoying her warmth, his hands slowly caressing her, especially parts of her that he wasn't able to see very often – the parts that she hid from public view, and with good reason. His fingertips explored her horns, the parts of her skin that were rough and almost scaly, her hands... touching her in a way that expressed his curiosity and affection without the need for words. <br><br>He was tired, content, sated, and simply... happy. But he was also secretly worried that, once sleep took him – she would leave, and he'd wake up in the night to learn that this was all just a dream, and he simply wasn't prepared for that. <br><br>Suddenly, he felt a change in Jazelle's body. Her arms, her skin... it all began to shift under his touch. He only had a moment to look up at her with confusion etched on his face, her horns already gone, her previous appearance back in place before the sound of the bedroom doors being pushed open snapped his attention to them.<br><br>In walked the most curious scene – Lucius and Mercy, the woman straddling his waist, legs wrapped around his trunk, arms wrapped around his neck. Both of them were glistening from water, and Duncan realized immediately that they had just walked right out of the bath. Without a pause, Lucius angled over towards the opposite side of the bed where Duncan and Jazelle lay together, and with some distress Duncan noticed that Lucius hadn't even had the decency to glance over at him.<br><br>“Lucius!” Duncan -finally- gasped, just as his second was leaning over to ease Mercy onto her back on the opposite side of the bed. For his part, Duncan did his best to avoid looking at Jazelle's naked daughter. It wasn't as if he could -see- much, anyway, but still... it caused an awkwardness in him that he was not at all familiar with.<br><br>“Oh, don't mind us,” Lucius muttered, not taking his eyes from Mercy's face. Lucius's gaze was predatory, as if he had every intent of fucking her senseless, if he could summon the stamina to do so. “Just pretend we're not here,” he suggested.<br><br>Duncan snorted. THAT was certainly not going to be doable. The general glanced at Jazelle for a moment, then back to Lucius, then back to Jazelle, looking comically lost as to what to do. He couldn't believe that Lucius had come in, fully intending to commandeer the master bed from his general!<br><br>“I...,” Duncan began, then lowering his gaze back to Jazelle. “Perhaps it's our turn to keep watch, I suppose,” he offered, as 'diplomatic' a way of getting him and Jazelle out of the situation as possible. They could certainly go to one of the guest rooms, though they might not be -quite- as comfortable, they were still quite cozy and still equal to most any other bed in the keep.<br><br>“Sure...,” Lucius said, still not even glancing Duncan's way. “That sounds great,” he agreed, shifting Mercy beneath him into the perfect position... and then dipping his hips down forcefully, experimentally... followed by a deeply satisfied groan as he delved deeply into the woman beneath him in a single, powerful yet measured thrust.<br><br>Duncan simply looked at Jazelle for some sign of input, preference... disgust, disappointment... anything. Duncan had shared a bed with Lucius and other women before at the same time, but... that had been some time ago, and there had been -no- emotional attachments. This, to him, was obviously different, not to mention he wasn't sure if Jazelle was too keen on listening to her own daughter getting pounded a few feet away from her – which, if Duncan's estimation was right, would be happening quite soon enough...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-02-2015, 15:54:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>This whole thing was turning into a little mini-adventure of its own.&nbsp; While it might not lead to what she had hoped to find here, it was certainly a lot more fun than skulking about in dry, dusty archives and attempting to sort through books and scrolls.&nbsp; It was all the better, since in a more innocent time she would have expected to find such tomes as she had found in the hands of the foulest of necromancers or perhaps the abode of some nasty demon lord rather than in the secret chambers of priests who purported to serve the light.<br><br>Those same priests would likely decry her, brand her whore and temptress and Carnite, the most horrible names they could conceive for one who did not suffer the carnal attentions of a man as fully clothed as possible, on her back, in the dark, as she clutched some symbol of the goddess and told herself she was submitting to duty rather than pleasure. <br><br>Yes, gleefully, enthusiastically, and unashamedly fucking a gorgeous man who enjoyed giving pleasure as well as receiving it was certainly a much more heinous crime than hoarding books that described ways to torture for maximum pain and endurance.&nbsp; And they called her a demon ... there was no justice in the world, but ... at least there was this.<br><br>Mercy smiled at the thought, as Lucius careful steps still caused him to jar and press within her as she continued her attempts to show her appreciation for his gallantry with flexed muscles and careful movements of her body and legs where they wrapped around him, along with applying her lips to his damp skin where they could reach, nuzzling, nipping, licking while her hands alternated between clinging and caressing.<br><br>"It is not only in the blood, but the intent.&nbsp; Had she been focused on something less narrow, less impatient, I daresay you would have enjoyed it ... almost as much.&nbsp; She might have even learned something as well ... but her loss, in this case, is my gain, so who am I to complain?"<br><br>Despite Lucius' bravado, Mercy would not have been surprised if the greeting they received was not one of even tolerant welcome.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had moved amongst men that were not disposed to keep their couplings private, both as an observer and as an occasional participant, and she suspected that it was the same with Jazelle.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her mother had never seemed to understand the concept of jealousy, or the desire for one certain man that was so strong that the desire for any other was like a candle tossed in the heart of a kiln.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy, on the other hand, did understand both ... and she was usually very ill disposed to the concept of sharing, though ... unfairly perhaps ... less resistant to being shared.<br><br>Fucking Lucius was something that she intended to do more of, eventually, and place really didn't matter all that much.&nbsp; Now seemed like a good time, and the chance to make mischief -- affectionate mischief -- with her mother and her new lover only made it all the sweeter.<br><br>She couldn't see Jazelle's or Duncan's face as Lucius released her ass long enough to release the catch, though she was shaking just a bit with suppressed laughter at what her imagination told her must surely be their expressions.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did hear Duncan's aghast voice, and the silence from Jazelle was almost audible in and of itself, but she left the talking to Lucius, her grin hidden briefly against Lucius' shoulder as he eased her down onto the unoccupied side of the large bed.<br><br>Tomorrow, if she were still on speaking terms with her mother or her general, she would suggest that Duncan consider the purchase of a new, smaller bed to discourage such sharing.&nbsp; She was almost certain that Lucius' quarters could fit such a bed, even if his bedroom might not have room for much else.<br><br>But for now, at least until they were sent flying across the room by a furious foot or a blast of succubus-sorcery, she was just a tad busy ...&nbsp; though it was a lazy kind of busy, as she simply lay back and allowed Lucius to position her body as he liked.&nbsp; It did make it a little easier to claim the position of innocent bystander, after all, if Lucius' estimation of his friend's level of tolerance, or if Jazelle's proved to be more motherly than sex-demonessly.<br><br>Though the claim of no fault might have worked better if she had not so enthusiastically reacted to Lucius' reinsertion with an unrestrained moan of delight.&nbsp; Lucius was a battle-hardened warrior, and she had the endurance of her bloodlines, so whatever bruises and tongue-lashing they might endure for this, Mercy judged it well worth the danger.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>With the happenings in the keep, Jazelle did not precisely go 'off watch', particularly as she knew her daughter and Lucius had left the other room -- though admittedly there had been moments when her awareness had been so focused upon her general, and herself, that an aspiring attacker would have had a few seconds to launch an attack.&nbsp; She needed to expend almost no effort, however, to note when her daughter was close, and that gave her more than enough warning to shift back into the completely human guise she had chosen.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy, of course, would not have batted an eyelash to see her in her true form -- but given Lucius' suspicions and his apparently returned interest in her daughter, Jazelle did not think it the best course to shove her origins in Lucius' face.<br><br>And, of course, there was something very attractive about keeping her true form for Duncan alone.<br><br>She raised up in the bed as the bedroom doors burst open with a clatter, not bothering with conjuring illusory clothing or even grabbing at the covers in some show of modesty, as Duncan's attention was likewise distracted.&nbsp; Emerald eyes narrowed as she beheld her daughter's shapely, quite bare, back and ass, glistening with water, and parts of an equally naked and wet Lucius, who seemed to be wearing Mercy as an apron of sorts with her full cooperation.<br><br>For a moment, Jazelle struggled with her voice as two very disparate courses of action presented themselves - one of the mother she had become late in the game, and one of the succubus that she still was, at least substantially.&nbsp; Her eyes moved to Duncan, noting his rather wild-eyed expression as he averted his gaze -- adorably -- from her daughter as Lucius lowered her down onto the other side of the bed and eased himself down over her and advised them to 'pretend' that they weren't there.<br><br>Jazelle's lips twitched.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then, as Duncan's head swiveled back and forth, his expression one of comical disbelief and an endearing sort of helplessness, she threw back her head and laughed, long and without reservation.&nbsp; Her daughter, when she finally turned her head in their direction, looked at her with an expression of both mischief and challenge,&nbsp; though her attention was immediately, and appropriately, diverted as Lucius thrust himself inside her with what appeared to be a confident and skilled stroke.<br><br>While she would have .. emphatically ... put an end to this had it only been her daughter's mischief, this was a situation that was of Duncan's own making, at least in part.&nbsp; If he was uncomfortable with the situation, she would defer to his judgement -- but otherwise, she was not inclined to give ground. <em> "As you prefer, my general ...&nbsp; but as it seems your second's fears are not so prevalent as once they were, I see no great need to keep watch beyond Mercy's wards and my own senses.&nbsp; It will cause me no true discomfort to 'pretend they are not there', or to offer critique of Lucius' performance."</em><br><br>"I can handle that part of it myself, Mother." &nbsp;Mercy's words were swift and sure, though broken in the their delivery for understandable reasons.<br><em><br>"I am certain that you can handle many things, daughter," </em>Jazelle replied, glancing in her direction, gaze not shying away from Lucius in the process.<em>&nbsp; "But it is a luxury that you may not be afforded, given your ill-mannered intrusion.&nbsp; &nbsp;That ... is in the hands of my general."</em><br><br>Jazelle looked back at Duncan, her head slightly cocked, chestnut curls appropriately disheveled ... awaiting his preference.<br><br><hr><br>Mercy snorted, feeling just a tiny bit of disappointment that her mother's reaction was ... more amused than anything else.&nbsp; It was rather hard to shock a succubus, particularly with anything sexual, though she had half-hoped the whole daughter thing might have put a different perspective on the situation.&nbsp; It had not, and she was quite content to re-focus her attention on the very pleasurable things that Lucius was doing -- he seemingly oblivious to any undercurrents or the dismay of his commander.<br><br>She did, however, note the soft emphasis that Jazelle had put on the words 'my general' -- possessiveness and no little affection almost unconsciously imbued in the two little words.&nbsp; Staking her claim was rather a succubus thing, but there was more to it than that, and Mercy found the knowledge ... satisfying -- much as she found Lucius' enthusiasm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>12-02-2015, 16:11:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius nodded slowly, the lurid smile in complete agreement with Mercy's assessment. “-Almost- as much,” he agreed. “No matter her intent, or her patience, she would never have -felt- like -you-,” he whispered quiet emphatically. “Next to you, she was like fucking a mug of water. -You- are...,” he muttered, pausing for a moment. “Something much, much more delightful...”<br><br>True, Mercy could have simply been using her powers to make it as pleasurable as possible for him, while the succubus hours ago might have simply not bothered to try, so intent on her impending feast. But Lucius chose to believe what he wished. “And I am fairly certain she -did- learn something: not to fuck with us,” he added, chuckling sotly as he made his way toward their destination.<br><br>It seemed that, whether they both realized it or not, the two of them were eager to 'make mischief', even though they had not discussed it or planned such a thing. Lucius knew Duncan very well – and likely Mercy knew Jazelle very well. If either of them suspected that the person they knew would take huge offense to what was about to happen, Lucius felt that one of them would have spoken up before now.<br><br>Or, maybe not.<br><br>He heard Duncan's gasp of surprise about the time that Lucius planted Mercy's ass on the mattress. Even as Lucius shifted and made them both more comfortable, he tried to reassure Duncan that nothing 'out of the ordinary' was about to happen, encouraging his general and friend to simply pay them no mind. Of course, he didn't predict that he and Mercy would remain -silent-, and that might or might not bother the other couple. <br><br>The two men had, after all, done this sort of thing on a few other occasions and it had never caused a stir. In some ways, Lucius had a rather sly streak of enjoying 'performing' in front of others. There was something enjoyable about watching others fuck – and being watched doing the same thing. At least to some degree. He'd never mounted a woman on a table in a tavern like a bard commanding his harp, but the act of carnal delight was not shameful to him as it seemed to be to most people who would gasp in horror if they caught someone -else- doing it, even though they, themselves, enjoyed the same act quite well enough.<br><br>Indeed, Duncan and himself had brought ladies to this very room in their earlier years, playing them at the same time, separated only by the space of a few feet on the massive bed. Lucius remembered well the choir of moans and groans they'd create, a mix of feminine pleasures echoing off the ceiling and walls around them. After all, Lucius had shared the field of blood and battle with Duncan many -more- times than he'd shared a bed with his friend and general – and to him, taking lives – or sparing them – was every bit as serious a thing as fucking a beautiful woman, and perhaps even more so.<br><br>But Lucius did not expect to offend Duncan. At the worst, he expected the man to toss a pillow at him, or depart the room. Duncan had to be able to see how focused Lucius was on Mercy, and Mercy alone. True, Jazelle's form – as fake as he knew it to be – was quite enticing, and on most days Lucius would not have so much as batted an eye if Duncan wished to swap. <br><br>But not today. First, Lucius had a beautiful woman of his own to explore, one that promised to provide -intelligent- pleasures not only of the body, but of the mind. Besides, if Jazelle was a -full- succubus and her powers were anything like the tales said they were, then Lucius was quite content retaining his own soul – and letting Duncan consign his away to oblivion for the temporary taste of demon-flesh.<br><br>That first strong, deep thrust was as sweet as any he could remember. Quickly, his random thoughts and concerns for their 'audience' faded. They would either stay or go, be offended or not give a damn. -They- would decide and -they- would react. Meanwhile, Lucius had pleasure to give – and receive – and he was not going to be denied a second time in one evening...<br><br>Lucius settled into a slow, determined pace, moving his body in a way that immediately demonstrated that he certainly knew what he was doing. His lips lowered toward Mercy's, one hand pressed into the mattress just above her shoulder to bear most of his weight, while the other was free to roam now, perching itself atop a breast and slowly kneading it, feeling the smooth, supple skin gliding along his palm...<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan did not truly understand why things were so 'different' this time. Rather, he -did-, on some level, but he simply didn't want to consciously face it. His emotional attachment to Jazelle was causing him some amount of duress, a feeling he had only felt once before. And during that one time many years prior, the thought of leaving his lover so that she would take her rightful husband back into her bed caused him -many- a sleepless night. <br><br>Not that Lucius was interested in sampling Jazelle's delights... no, his focus seemed to be rather pointedly set on Mercy... and focused in a way Duncan could not remember from the past. Had the young daughter of Jazelle cast a similar spell on his second? Duncan realized it was possible, whether Mercy was half-blooded or not. Or her 'spell' might simply have been a natural one of personality and beauty mixed into a potent cocktail of 'Desire'. Granted, Mercy was comely to the eye – something that Duncan did his best not to focus on. The last thing he wanted was Jazelle to feel that he was attracted to her own daughter. <br><br>Instead, Duncan knew his discomfort came from how such adventures had gone in the past. Whether it was an hour later, or the next morning, he, too, remembered some of their past antics – and Duncan had -no- desire to pass off Jazelle into another's hands, even those of his closest friend. It was a subtle reminder of what she was, of course – if he had no real issue seeing the two fornicate next to them, then he knew she most certainly wouldn't either. <br><br>Suddenly, Jazelle was laughing, long and without reservation. Duncan's gaze became riveted to Jazelle's wide smile. Was that some sort of laugh of victory? No, it wasn't mocking in the least, as far as Duncan could tell. It was one of mirth, and nothing more harmful than that. Jazelle was truly tickled by this turn of events, and somehow that notion did not truly surprise the general at all.<br><br>At his suggestion for them to go 'on watch'... away from the bedroom... Jazelle countered with her own explanation that, in essence, they were 'safe'. She playfully admitted that she would not be bothered by the coupling of the other two, and even offered to voice her critique of Lucius's 'performance'.<br><br>Mercy responded, and then Jazelle responded to her daughter's response, but Duncan was barely cognizant of that. He was too busy being surprise by the sudden desire to snap, to cover his lover's eyes... she wanted to -watch-, and 'judge' his friend's skill? For what purpose? For the simple bit of possible comedy it might afford? Or to determine if she would possibly put his friend's skills to the test herself at some point later? What amazed him was that in any previous situation, Duncan would have laughed along with her – but he wasn't laughing now.<br><br>He realized after a long moment that Jazelle was looking at him, as if awaiting some sort of response. Duncan had to decide quickly – did he force a laugh and play along good-naturedly, regardless how the situation made him feel? Or did he embarrass himself greatly by expressing dissent, possibly even ruining Jazelle's good mood?&nbsp; <br><br>The answer was simple, as he forced a smile. <br><br>“I suppose... you're right. If you see no great need to keep watch beyond wards and senses, then... there is not much need to roam the cold outer chambers like wraiths,” he said with a&nbsp; nod, slowly lowering himself down beside the warmth next to him. It became easy to understand to him why this was making him... uncomfortable. It was the growing attachment, and the confession of such... He did take some small solace in the fact that she -had- changed at the last second back into the pleasing human form she now wore again. But he figured that was less for his benefit, and more for the benefit of not scaring the living shit out of Lucius. <br><br>Duncan took a breath and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, trying his best to appear relaxed. He knew from first-hand experience as a spectator only, that this might take awhile...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-02-2015, 01:40:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>As she waited for Duncan's decision, Jazelle displayed no more discomfort or arousal than if her daughter and Lucius had decided to play a game of chess upon the bed, even when Lucius settled into a rhythm that she could feel upon the mattress beneath them.<br><br>Duncan's pause, and the subtle closing of his expression, attracted far more attention, and Jazelle focused her senses and her mind upon him.&nbsp; By his own omission, and Lucius' unabashed sharing, he and his second had done similar things before, often enough for Lucius to apparently view it as commonplace.&nbsp; Mere seconds went by as she considered, and he continued speaking.&nbsp; That they had done so did not bother her, and she had not expected that it would.&nbsp; &nbsp;However, when she considered that they might again do such things, with a woman whose eyes might turn to Duncan ... for a moment, her eyes shifted white with a flash of pure, unadulterated rage, and her hands bunched the bedcovers beneath like claws, though they retained their human form.<br><br>Oh.&nbsp; It seemed that things had changed for the both of them.<br><br>And whatever the reason, Jazelle found that she did not like witnessing Duncan's discomfort or distress, and certainly not contributing to it.&nbsp; Had she been the cause of it, teasing him to sharpen his senses, it would have been different.&nbsp; This was a new experience for the succubus, new on top of new, and it deserved further thought.&nbsp; Later.<br><br><em>"Take my hand, my general,"</em> Jazelle urged, her expression oddly soft, even gentle, in a manner that felt somewhat foreign to her muscles, as malleable as the might be.&nbsp; She offered it, still sitting up, for all the world as if they were the only two there.&nbsp; Jazelle was fond of her daughter, if that was the correct word, but there was no cause for concern at the moment.<br><br>Once Duncan did, her fingers closed over his, fingers entwining, and the succubus exterted her will, and shifted, widening the focus of the ability to encompass her lover.&nbsp; The shadows around the bed darkened as they came to her command, and Jazelle and Duncan simply faded away into them, leaving behind nothing but a warm impression upon the covers.<br><br>For the succubus, the sensation was little more than a gentle breath upon her naked form, a breath that tickled skin and passed through.&nbsp; She could still feel Duncan's hand clasped in her own, and the sense of his presence, and she attempted to reassure him that all was well.&nbsp; The process took no more than a heartbeat or two as the shadows left them, depositing them upon the bed given to Lady Alerian and as of yet unused.&nbsp; The embers of a fire glowed in the hearth -- the servants had apparently gotten the room ready in case she had need of it -- and the scents were clean and pleasant, but empty.<br><em><br>"It seems only fair that I return your hospitality, my general.&nbsp; As large and well appointed as your bed might be, I prefer one with only you and I in it.&nbsp; I doubt that our departure will be missed ... at least not for some time."</em><br><br>She paused, her eyes lingering on his, and then confessed, <em>"I would not see you made unhappy, Duncan, can I prevent it.&nbsp; We are not far away, and I would know if my daughter were in dire straits -- just as I would know it if you called for me."</em><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy did notice when Jazelle took her lover 'away', transporting him in the same manner that she had taken Mercy away from the cell where she had awaited her execution.&nbsp; Where they had gone, Mercy didn't know - Jazelle's sanctuary, some place in the castle, or perhaps only as far as the outer room.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her mother's magic, at least the innate variety, was much stronger than her own, and while she could ride the shadows to the call of a lover, or to her own sanctuary, such a feat as Jazelle had performed was not within her capabilities.&nbsp; She smiled, her amusement at the novel situation well satisfied, and turned her attention fully to Lucius, though she could not resist a single prediction when Lucius' lips lifted enough to permit speech.<br><br>"You and I will likely be scolded tomorrow.&nbsp; I hope your general ... her general ... will not be too harsh, or at least that you deem this worth the scolding.&nbsp; I know that I do."<br><br>&nbsp;As much as she had enjoyed the small act of long-overdue daughterly mischief, there was a part of Mercy that was a little relieved -- and very curious.&nbsp; Her mother likely could have easily simply settled in to rest, ignoring what the two of them did.&nbsp; From what Mercy could tell from their talks, and some personal experience, Jazelle was fairly well inured to the fucking of others.&nbsp; Without some personal interest, or to replenish her energies, her mother also could have watched dispassionately, and likely would have offered suggestions and critiques if only to return the mischief.<br><br>While the priestess shared Lucius' enjoyment of a certain element of performance, she much preferred a ... less dispassionate and less personally involved audience.&nbsp; She wondered if Lucius might be interested in ritual magic, vaguely -- it would certainly make those ceremonies more interesting if she could persuade him to accompany her.&nbsp; For now, though, she was well content to have Lucius all to herself, and the bed as well.<br><br>Mercy's arms slid nimbly around Lucius' waist, and her knees bent, drew up as her muscles flexed, shifting, seeking that perfect angle, and breathing a sigh of triumph as she found it.&nbsp; &nbsp; Nails raked softly down Lucius' back, easing to fingertips in the area where she remembered seeing the succubus' marks, soothing.&nbsp; Had she been a typical priest, she could have eased those tiny wounds away with her healing touch, but she doubted that Lucius would appreciate the cost of her healing in such a moment, and for such an insubstantial wound.&nbsp; Yet she could, and did, attempt to soothe his skin with her touch, and to distract his mind from any remaining discomfort with her body's welcoming embrace.<br><br>She had nothing to prove, nothing to gain from denying herself the full enjoyment of Lucius' well-timed, practiced thrusts, or his hands upon her body.&nbsp; &nbsp; There was no hurry, either, so her hips matched his pace, lifting, angling, teasing ... but finally, and quickly, settling into a steadily increasing urgency as she sought that last, delicious swell of tension.<br><br>"Mmmmm," she purred against his lips.&nbsp; "You <strong>are</strong> good."<br><br>He was well aware of if, but that was all right.&nbsp; So long as he didn't get lazy in the pursuit of perfecting his art, he could be as vain as he liked, and she was happy to provide stroking to his ego, and other swollen parts as well.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-02-2015, 10:47:58</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan, of course, had no idea just -how- perceptive Jazelle was. He always thought himself to have an excellent 'poker face'. He'd used it before in negotiations, in war, in everything. Even now, his slight discomfort was perfectly hidden – or so he thought. He might want to remind himself that Jazelle had been around for ages, and had interacted with countless men and women and was likely -quite- perceptive, even more so than the usual people he was used to dealing with. A look that might fool Lucius, for example, wouldn't likely fool -her-.<br><br>He had no idea she could almost see right through him.<br><br>Duncan missed the flashing-white hatred in her eyes, or anger, or warning. He was too busy trying not to be embarrassed, and trying not to look or appear 'possessive'. If Lucius was fucking some other random woman, Duncan might have even enjoyed watching alongside Jazelle. But he knew sitting back staring at Jazelle's daughter while she was being plowed would just feel... odd. Being Jazelle's daughter was one thing – which was odd, but the oddity he felt doing that felt 'odd' to begin with. She wasn't -his- daughter, so what did it matter?<br><br>And then there was that faint possibility that Jazelle might think or even slightly consider that Duncan appreciated Mercy's body – or even wanted her for himself. Duncan didn't, of course... even though watching Lucius and Mercy go at it would have certainly aroused him at -some- point, it would have aroused him to want -Jazelle-, yet he wasn't sure how -she- would take it.<br><br>The situation provided all those interesting conundrums, not the least of which was that small fear in the back of his mind that Jazelle would also watch – and want to share herself with others... <br><br>Like her, the thought of that sent a lance of rage coursing through -him-, and though it might not have been demonic rage in power of potency, it was still quite palpable, especially for him. He had to be careful – she -knew- he had already shown a small bit of possessiveness before in the garden, once he learned who she was. He had to remind himself that 'flirting' was probably a simple form of communication for her – it didn't mean she would spread her thighs for anyone...<br><br>Or so he prayed.<br><br>Suddenly she spoke, urging him to take her hand. He did so, of course, without hesitation. Any excuse to touch her was wonderful – having her -ask- for his hand in hers even more so. His was huge by comparison, as he felt her fake 'human' hand in his – but it was still -her-, still Jazelle, and he gently tightened his strong fingers along with hers, willingly following her lead as she began to lace her fingers alternating with his own. That sensual clasp of hands was so powerful to him, he gave her a faint smile as he watched her.<br><br>Then, the shadows seemed to grow, and for a moment, he wondered if she was enacting some spell to simply put him to sleep. A pang of fear moved through him – was she doing that so that she could join her daughter while he was unconscious, so that he wouldn't have to watch? Or-....<br><br>The darkness grew until it seemed to boil and bathe over everything, obscuring everything but the two of them from view for a few moments in time. Glancing back at her – for a brief moment he swore he could see her in her true form again, as if the darkness revealed it to him. Or, perhaps he was imagning it, the darkness playing tricks on his eyes... One thing he felt for certain was the gentle squeeze of her hand, as if reassuring him that all was well. He trusted her – she wasn't hauling him away to the abyss to be fed upon by her sisters or some unknown master. Instead, they found themselves in a warmly accommodated set of quarters, and Duncan realized right away where they were, for he had visited these quarters before – or some like them – many times in the past as part of those 'conquests' from his earlier years.<br><br>The faint fire light given off by the glowing embers in the hearth offered a comfortable, reassuring warmth. It was quiet, the room smelled fresh and clean, and Duncan could make out no noises or sounds that would hint at anything being amiss.<br><br>She spoke, and he turned his head again to see Lady Alerian standing beside him once more. She was explaining why she brought him here, and he nodded – though trying not to appear TOO relieved, even though he greatly agreed with her reasoning. Despite how uncomfortable he had been a short few moments ago, he even spoke as if it were no big deal.<br><br>“Yes, Lucius did seem rather... focused. It seems the intense attraction you have radiate did not fall far from the proverbial tree,” he said with a faint smile. “We probably won't be missed, as you say, for some time.”<br><br>Duncan knew that wasn't entirely true. Lucius loved to 'perform', and he loved to 'watch'. Duncan was certain Lucius had come in there, prepared to give Duncan and Jazelle a show, while hoping Duncan and Jazelle would return the favor. And again, Duncan reminded himself how normally – usually – it wouldn't have bothered him to do so... except with -her-. <br><br>Maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing in his own mind. Jazelle would -look- like Lady Alerian. So what? If Jazelle was willing to keep her true form for -his- eyes only... why would he have reason to resent others seeing her in various other 'fake' forms that weren't really -her-? Fuck, Lucius would probably FREAK if he saw Jazelle's true form... but all night, and even right now, it was the only thing Duncan wished to see with his own eyes.<br><br>She had paused in return before speaking again, and when Duncan heard her voice, he focused on the words. He gently shook his head when she finished.<br><br>“I am not unhappy at all, lover,” he said softly. Technically, he wasn't -now-. And even before, he might have been a bit uncomfortable, but he still would have claimed to be 'happy', even if it wasn't the kind of 'happy' she might have been referring to.<br><br>“I would see -you- happy, as well, if it is within my power,” he smiled back at her. Was that a hint she just gave? Had she senses his growing unease? If so... how would he explain it?<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy definitely noticed the sudden absence of her mother and the general before Lucius did. For his part, Lucius seemed deeply intent on her at the moment, not paying much attention to what was going on around them. Likely they could have been assaulted by another demon of some kind – and Lucius would have simply kept fucking her until his skin was torn from his body.<br><br>When she spoke, Lucius turned his head, confirming that he understood what she was referring to. The other two people in the bed had left. Lucius found that odd, even surprising. Duncan had never cared before, even enjoying watching Lucius and his current partner going at it in the past. And the warrior was fairly certain that Jazelle – a fucking self-confess succubus – hadn't suddenly grown 'shy' or 'bashful' and dragged Duncan away against his will. No, Duncan had convinced them to move away, likely to the other room, while Luicus plied his efforts with Mercy.<br><br>“Hmph,” Lucius muttered to himself. Then he smiled slightly as his hips slowed for a moment. “There is no amount of scolding that would lessen the beauty of what we are sharing now,” he said softly, words sounding as sweet and as genuine as possible. “You could flay me and flog me for this – and I would eagerly accept it, even for a single thrust-...,” his hips surged forward, “...within you,” he whispered, his lips lightly dragging along hers, but not long enough to be considered a kiss.<br><br>And then she was moving, posing her body at the perfect angle, her legs bent at the perfect height, her legs flexed, thighs spread... she wasn't merely offering herself for him to plunder, she was doing her best to make it more enjoyable, as well. Her hands on his skin – especially on those places where the succubus had touched him earlier that night – were not lost on him. Mercy's touch of course was so much more enjoyable, whether it was gentle and sweet or forcefully bordering on the edge of pain, there simply was no comparison. Was that just the way she was? Was she this way with -all- of her lovers he wondered, or just him?<br><br>He, too, had nothing to 'prove', not really, even though he -wanted- to be a good lover, of course. Maybe provide her with some deep memories for future reference. Her his matched his own pace, and he kept it steady, not eager in the slightest to end their time together – though he was certainly eager to pleasure her – and himself in the process.<br><br>But he felt it, sensed it, her slowly growing urgency. He fought to keep his own at bay – successfully, for now, as she seemed to be rising up for a climax. She purred against his lips, complimenting him, and his first thought was to simply agree with her. 'I know', came to mind, even though it sounded arrogant, whether he believed it or not. Instead, he smiled back at her, and chose a different tact.<br><br>“A bard is only as good as his instrument,” he whispered. “And I can tell you that you are the sweetest that I've ever played...”<br><br>Was it just smoke to blow up her ass? Or was it true? The more he thought about it, the more he began to believe that yes, those words could certainly be accurate. Regardless, he continued to 'play' his instrument now, taking her firmly, in that one spot he knew she liked most especially. His free hand groped her breast, teasing and pinching her nipple delightfully, urging her along as best he could as his eyes focused on her face, his long hair hanging down over both of his shoulders, resting on her arms and shoulders as well.<br><br>“You're going to cum for me,” he said flatly, though the smile betrayed his mischief. “And when you do... I am going to drive you into this bed until it – or you – cries for mercy,” he warned her, still smiling, not exactly sure if that was a dare – or a warning – that he had just issued...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-02-2015, 22:46:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Fingers still entwined with Duncan's, Jazelle's attention did not waver in the slightest&nbsp; - for now, she had no reason to suspect that any would have more than a passing interest in Lady Alerian, and at least a part of her senses were alert for intrusion.&nbsp; There was nothing in the guest quarters that concerned her overmuch, but Duncan concerned her a great deal.<br><br>Perhaps it was because she was now bonded to him by her word, or perhaps she would have felt no differently had their wager gone the other way.&nbsp; He was unique in her experience, in a myriad of ways -- but for whatever reason, he was different and the why was a curiosity and little more.<br><br><em>"I am happy, though perhaps it is not in my nature to fully trust such a feeling -- for one of my kind."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle had been ... content ... much of the time after her freeing.&nbsp; She had known passion, and anger, and moments of deep satisfaction, even moments of wonder.&nbsp; Serenity, amusement, was the most that she had thought to hope.&nbsp; She had known pleasure of the body, and the pleasure of successful outcome, but these were not, as she understood it, happiness.<br><br>What was it, if it was not what she had experienced when Duncan had held her, had accepted her, had trusted her?<br><br>Jazelle pondered a moment, wondering whether it was more beneficial to let the mild prevarication stand between them or address it.&nbsp; The difference between prodding at a wound and lancing it was slight, after all.<br><br><em>"Did you think that I would not know?&nbsp; It is the nature of demon-kind, at least those who are possessed of both cunning and wit rather than near-mindless hatreds and hungers, to deal in lies and truths, and the balance between.&nbsp; &nbsp;I know desire, I know its taste and its heat and its flavor, and I know yours for me now.&nbsp; &nbsp;You may be skilled in turning a stone face to the world, my general, and even a polite smile, but even were I blind I would know.&nbsp; I do not know your thoughts, other than what my reason and experience tells me, but I will know somewhat of your emotions ... for they affect your desire."</em><br><br>She did not fully understand the reason he had been disturbed by Lucius and Mercy's penchant for mischief and unfettered expression of their own desires.&nbsp; She did not need to, though in time she hoped that Duncan would come to trust in her word, to tell her when he had questions or doubts.&nbsp; &nbsp;Whether she should ask, or wait, she was not certain, but while she could have nearly infinite patience when it was necessary, she had found that she preferred to indulge in simple forthrightness otherwise. <em> "It was not the first time that Lucius has brought a lover to your bed.&nbsp; &nbsp; What is different, my general?&nbsp; Is it that Mercy is my daughter, and mothers and daughters do not usually entertain their lovers where the other might see?&nbsp; Or is it that Lucius desired this form before he knew my true nature, and you wonder whether I would go to him if I were not bound by my word to you?&nbsp; Or did you rightfully worry that I would do injury to Mercy should she look at you the way she gazes at your second?"</em><br><br>The last possibility was tinged with humor, for it was not something Jazelle thought likely.&nbsp; Oh, had she met him first, Mercy would certainly have tried to share Duncan's bed -- she knew her daughter and her penchant for the 'noble warrior' all too well.&nbsp; For all her love of mischief, Jazelle knew her daughter, and knew that her mother's lover was 'off limits', at least unless Jazelle indicated that he was not -- and Jazelle had no intention of relinquishing or even easing her claim, even for Mercy.<br><br>She had learned much about the darkness that lurked inside men before she had been freed, and more after.&nbsp; But she had also learned of other things, of integrity and honor, of intent and generosity, of kindness and the desire to see happiness in others without expectation.&nbsp; &nbsp;Cynicism did not give ground easily, but hope, once it had been found and nurtured with the first breath of life, could be every bit as strong.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>"Good answer," Mercy allowed, smiling once more.&nbsp; She did not necessarily believe Lucius' claim, for scolding from a succubus could likely involve things like displacing stone when slammed up against a wall -- not that her mother had ever been that annoyed with her.&nbsp; &nbsp; All in all, she had only seen Jazelle truly angry a couple of times, and once had been on her behalf -- apparently she resented the notion that some puling priest had determined to take from this world the daughter that she had borne more than a little presumptive.<br><br>The whole mother/lover thing was a little weird, though Mercy didn't think it would take much to put it aside.&nbsp; She had only witnessed Jazelle with a lover a few times in these years, and ... as far as she knew ... her mother had never before seen her so engaged.&nbsp; The first time had been when she had felt the first burn of her demon-blood, after the searing of the wards holding her prisoner had woken it.&nbsp; Jazelle had explained the hungers, and how to quiet them ... how to use them ... and she had demonstrated on one of their pursuers, one who had followed them into the wake of the succubus' spell.&nbsp; When she could no longer fight the hunger that had grown inside her, she had followed suit.&nbsp; Jazelle had been there at the start, but she had not stayed to watch, either out of lack of interest or more pressing concerns.<br><br>And Mercy was getting very much the whole 'territorial' vibe from her mother when it came to the general, which was fine with her.&nbsp; She'd never been all that much into sharing ... though under the right circumstances being shared could be interesting ... <br><br><strong>*ka-boom!*</strong>&nbsp; The sound of that door slamming shut before that particular thought could go any further was almost audible, and jarring enough to even kick her body out of it's very pleasurable rhythm for a stroke or two, though she recovered readily enough to focus on his next lovely compliment.<br><br>He sounded like a bard, for all that he fucked like a warrior.&nbsp; Hmm ... not a bad combination.<br><br>"So long as ... you don't ... point your finger ... or anything else ... at me when the ... general comes looking ... for reimbursement ... if you break it.&nbsp; Though you might ... be the one ... crying for Mercy." &nbsp;Despite the fact that she was close, Mercy still found the focus to smile at that play on her name, even giggle a bit, before thought became too much to bother with just then.<br><br>Clammy wet sheets, water dripping from his hair down onto her heated body, even Lucius' potential to help her pull off a nearly legendary coup against the church, didn't matter one whit, one speck, at that moment.&nbsp; All that mattered was the feel of his hard body pressing deep into hers, the tug and press of his hand as he urged her body on with the delightfully contrasting sensations.<br><br>If he were attempting to invoke her wrath by seemingly ordering her around, demanding her surrender ... he was doomed to disappointment.&nbsp; He could be as demanding and cocky as he liked when it came to doling out pleasure.&nbsp; Mercy was far more a devout hedonist when it came to lovemaking than she was a feminist.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was just as happy to be given what she wanted as she was to take what she wanted, and she figured at some time Lucius would be more than willing to take a turn at being pleasured.&nbsp; First, he had to fuck the rest of the unpleasant experience with the she-bitch from the abyss out of his system, and Mercy was more than happy to be of service.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>14-02-2015, 10:25:27</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan gave Jazelle a wry smirk when she confessed to being happy – but not entirely trusting the feeling. “You should be allowed such things,” he said, as if he could define and write all the rules for her 'kind', as if he had some sort of say in the matter. “You are a creature of pleasure – surely that means there is room for some -real- happiness in there somewhere,” he said softly, but it was clear he wasn't entirely convinced that even he believed that. <br><br>The truth was – he really didn't know much about her -kind-. Her own words likely were accurate, and if she said she didn't have much reason to trust her feelings when it came to happiness, he was sure that she had pretty damned good reasons why. <br><br>Still – the thought of never being able to find happiness was rather dark and depressing, and he deeply hoped that she was exaggerating – or in error.<br><br>Not only had she detected his unease, but she even explained how she knew. She -was- most certainly still a creature of desire, and his own for her was likely as clear to her as a blazing bonfire beacon on a dark night. And if his mood shifted, if his mood took on a different tint even slightly dark or angry, saddened or otherwise distressed – she claimed that it would affect his desire for her, and therefore she'd be able to detect it.<br><br>Slowly, he shook his head.<br><br>“That is one thing where your sense may one day lie to you,” he whispered, moving to close the distance between them even more, slowly raising a hand to brush gently at the curls that hung along the side of her cheek. “My desire for you will never falter or fade – despite my mood. That simply is not possible,” he smiled faintly. But he knew her intuition was spot on this evening, and he knew that trying to deny it further would simply insult her, and he had no wish to do that.<br><br>She went immediately for an explanation, referring to the times he and his friend had enjoyed the company of other women in front of one another without reservation. She asked various questions, trying to get to the heart of the matter, and he simply smiled and listened as she piled them up one after the other. When she was done asking them, he continued to stroke her hair lightly, lovingly, before replying. <br><br>“It is true, he and I have done such things in the past,” he said. “But... none of those women... were -you-.” He took a breath, preparing to explain it as best he could. <br><br>“Before... those women were just... play-things. Toys. Entertainment. They were willing, though, and for them it was every bit the same – except they had the hope of 'capturing' one of us, given our status in the kingdom,” he said. “It was not uncommon for us to rut into the night... and then trade places to... to exhaust our company even more,” he said with a shrug. “There was never any... possessiveness. Any preference. I know it is -foolish- of me to feel... that... for you,” he said , averting his gaze now. “I know what you are. I know the urges you feel. You've admitted why you were created... and I've seen the way you look at him...”<br><br>He could go no further on his own, at least not on that matter. This was so unlike him. There had only been one woman before whom Duncan would have kept from Lucius – and in fact, Lucius had never met her. But this time, Lucius most certainly had. Instead, Duncan quickly continued on. <br><br>“And your daughter... yes, it felt a little... odd... to watch your own daughter being taken like that in front of you... I mean, it wasn't really odd for me, but... for you... it must have been. Or... was it?” he asked, not sure if it bothered her in the least, come to think of it. “Sisters, I have seen so such things without care, but mother-daughter? I... I didn't know if it was making you uncomfortable. And no, I do not think you would injure your own daughter,” he quickly added, shaking his head. “At least, I assume you wouldn't.”<br><br>He sighed then. He knew what he must sound like to her, and he was certain she had dealt with men who had tried to 'claim' her for their own, to keep her from others, to be possessive of her in small doses up to and including those who would chain her to their beds if possible. Duncan was none of those things, and he didn't -want- to be. Demon or not, she had her own free will, and he intended for her to keep it, completely. She would do as she wished, go where she wished... whether that involved other men or not.<br><br>“Forgive me,” he said softly, pulling his hand away and turned to the side and stepping away from her slowly, his back to her. “I am probably not making much sense now.”<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy praised Lucius's answer, and his smile and faint nod gave her silent thanks for her kind words. Of course he didn't assume Jazelle's 'scolding' would include a heavy dose of physical violence. Instead, he had assumed it might include harsh language at most, perhaps delivered with a slightly disgruntled tone. He could already hear the scolding now, even Jazelle's voice delivering it: 'How -dare- you thoroughly fuck my daughter before my very eyes?', or 'How -dare- you plunge the head of your big, fat cock up into my daughter's stomach?'<br><br>Lucius almost chuckled at the thought – but didn't.<br><br>Lucius had noted a bit of tension before his friend and general disappeared into thin-air with the demon-woman he had bound himself to. Was Duncan sore with -him-? And if so – why? Ever since laying eyes on Mercy, Lucius had been unable to think of little else other than doing to her what he was doing to her right at that moment. Was Duncan -envious- of him for some reason? Or... was Duncan trying to keep Jazelle all to himself?<br><br>In either case, Lucius believed Duncan had absolutely nothing to worry about. Afterall, Lucius was not at all interested in the -full blooded- demoness. Whatever Duncan did to get between THAT one's thighs, Lucius was secretly glad it wasn't himself. He was sure there was some exchange made, some agreement, she had enticed him and forced Duncan to give-up something in exchange for access to her beautiful body... The old-saying went that it was his 'soul' that he would pay with, and THAT sounded like a whole lot more than Lucius would be willing to give up, just for a&nbsp; piece of ass, no matter how sweet and perfect it might look.<br><br>Mercy, on the other hand, was only -half-blooded-. Lucius had felt no sort of 'trade' or 'deceptions' going on, hence he doubted Mercy wanted the same things from him that Jazelle – a full-blooded succubus – likely wanted from Duncan.<br><br>If, however, Duncan was -envious- of him... Lucius's initial thought of sharing Mercy with his general and friend was like all the rest – no big deal, no problem, no hesitation... but a few moments later... it slowly morphed into 'no way'. THIS one was -his-, and he had no desire to give Mercy any ideas that she might be able to 'trade up' for the higher ranking member of the King's army. <br><br>As for sharing -himself- with Mercy and another woman, at first, that sounded delightful... but what if the second woman was drawn to Mercy's attraction like he was? How utterly embarrassing for Lucius would -that- be? No. He had ample reason to keep her for himself... at least for as long as she was willing to -be- 'kept'.<br><br>For all her otherworldly ways, Lucius could still -feel- the build-up within her body. Even as she spoke in return to him, her words stretched out between thrusts and groans, he could feel her body preparing itself for climax. It was touching that she was worried about him having to pay back the general for the bed – if they damaged it, and he smiled widely when she, too, made a play on her own name. <br><br>“No no, my dear,” he whispered, moving smoothing, pressing into her – easing out – pressing back into her without any indication of stress or strain. “I would not cry for Mercy,” he said, “But I might beg for Mercy... But not yet.... If I could resist... the efforts of a pure-blood... then surely you... should be easy enough........ to tame.”<br><br>His smile framed his playfulness, and his body sought to back-up his words. He'd made his claims, and backing those claims up was every bit as important as the pleasure he received by pleasuring -her-. So it was for multiple reasons that he held himself back with every ounce of will that he possessed. Most normal men would have lost themselves already, spilling and mewling about how they had given her what for. But not him. He breathed the way he learned to breathe during intercourse. He moved the way he knew best to induce pleasure without overwhelming himself. His lips brushed hers – then moved down the smooth skin of her neck, his back arching upward as his hips stil moved, his lips finding her breast waiting, her nipple already stiff, and now it would be warm and wet as his lips surrounded it and the nearby flesh, suckling it as he thrust into her again and again...<br><br>Forgotten were worries of Duncan and Jazelle... they'd be off doing whatever it was they felt they needed to do. Lucius was entirely engaged, now.<br><br>And he had a point to make, and a woman to please.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-02-2015, 23:06:51</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"Perhaps.&nbsp; I have already known more ... serenity ... than most, if not all, of my sisters.&nbsp; &nbsp;Surely you know, as well as I, that pleasures of the flesh can be both selfish and cruel ... but perhaps there is.&nbsp; I have already known more than I once thought possible."</em><br><br>Ducan's claim that his desire for her would never falter or fade was sweet, and Jazelle desperately wanted to believe it would prove true&nbsp; ... but desire all too often faded and changed.&nbsp; Yet she would do all that she could to keep it strong.<br><em><br>"Games."&nbsp; </em>Jazelle acknowledged Duncan's descriptions of the things that he and Lucius had shared, no heat or judgement in her words.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had no need for jealousy over things that had happened in the past.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"And it is not foolish.&nbsp; You know what I was, and you know much of what I am, though I do not think you yet understand what my word is.&nbsp; &nbsp;When we see the wizard tomorrow, ask him to tell you of his promise to me yesterday.&nbsp; Perhaps then ... you will know."</em><br><br>Valerian would tell him if she did not object -- he loved to demonstrate his knowledge.&nbsp; Likely he would tell more than she would wish of many things, but she would not request his silence.&nbsp; &nbsp;As damaging as truth could be to desire, lies might prolong it ... but the damage they incurred was multiplied tenfold.<br>When Duncan asked if it had bothered her to see Mercy, her daughter, on the receiving end of Lucius' attentions, Jazelle could not help but smile faintly.<br><br><em>"Did it bother me?&nbsp; No, though I would not have chosen to be part of their play this night.&nbsp; And also no, I would not ... truly ... hurt Mercy, could I avoid it.&nbsp; Bu there is much between what would express my anger and what would damage one with her resources."</em><br><br>She did not hold onto his hand when he pulled away, nor did she go after him -- though she wanted to do both. <em> "There is nothing to forgive, my general.&nbsp; I believe I do understand." </em>&nbsp; After a moment of silence, Jazelle turned and moved to the glass paned door that opened onto the tiny balcony where she had watched earlier in the day.&nbsp; Though she did not open it, she looked out across the span that they had crossed for a long moment in silence before speaking once more.<br><br><em>"When Mercy was born, I left her with her father.&nbsp; From him, I extracted his promise that he would care for her; he would never tell her the circumstances of her birth.&nbsp; She was raised as a foundling, for he could not tell his wife that he had lain with a succubus, conceived a child with her.&nbsp; As she grew, I would return to watch her, always from a distance.&nbsp; It would be, I told myself, and easier life ... if shorter ... for her if my bloodline were never awakened within her.&nbsp; She had seen eight summers when I first saw her with Alexi, her half brother.&nbsp; &nbsp;I did not understand, in full, the way that humans regard kinship and intercourse between the related -- though for some, it seems that they care only that it not be discovered rather than it be."</em><br><br><em>"When her father confessed his sins, betraying his daughter to save his son, as he no doubt saw it, I was faced with somewhat of a dilemma.&nbsp; The church had wasted no time in imprisoning her behind holy wards, and it did not take long for her distress and her danger to ... waken what lay within.&nbsp; &nbsp;The wards they had lain were ... not equipped ... to keep me out, but they were more than enough to keep Mercy imprisoned in her altered state.&nbsp; &nbsp;To pass through them, agony, a torture of the worst devising.&nbsp; I took from her as much as I could, and she was strong enough to endure the pain that was left, but ... when we were free, she was ... starving, her hunger no longer sleeping but full awake and ravenous.&nbsp; A virgin woman-child, sheltered, unprepared, driven half-mad by grief ... I showed her how to slake the hunger, how to feed upon lust to quiet the hunger and gain strength.&nbsp; Our pursuers were determined, and I allowed one, and then another, to catch up."<br></em><br>Jazelle's face was calm, showing no regret or remorse.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had been angry, coldly furious at the time, and she had reveled in exposing the lusts hidden in the hearts of the holy warriors, drowning them in it and then draining it away.&nbsp; It had been the last time that she had taken so much at one time.&nbsp; Had the pain not been so great, her anger so fierce ...<br><br>Even so, she regretted only what Duncan might think, not what she had done.&nbsp; Mercy had been an innocent, and her captors had worked to turn her into a monster so they could feel justified in destroying her.<br><em><br>"So it is not the first time I have witnessed my daughter with her legs wrapped around a man," </em>she finished, softening the crudity from choice.&nbsp; <em>"At least this time, it was for pleasure .. pleasure in one another."</em><br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>For her part, Mercy didn't worry about the trouble they had caused -- to her way of thinking, if there were issues, it was good to get them out in the open rather than let them build in silence.&nbsp; If there were things that her mother's general didn't understand about ... liking?&nbsp; even loving?&nbsp; ... a succubus, even a redeemed one, then the education was likely to be quite a bumpy ride no matter when and how it began.<br><br>Lucius' thrusts were slow and steady, and Mercy was no longer interested in dividing her attention away from the waves of pleasure washing through her body at each one, like a burgeoning tide.&nbsp; She could have resisted, fought the feeling, but that ... seemed both foolish and rather ungrateful.&nbsp; Instead she lay back on the general's large, comfortable bed, and courted the delicious tension, her hips rhythmically raising to meet Lucius' thrusts, back arching, her hands moving to Lucius' shoulder bring her body, her breast to his mouth.&nbsp; Her breathing was unsteady, the color high in her cheeks, along her breasts, the soft swell of her thighs that brushed against Lucius' hips with every thrust.<br><br>She made only a few sounds at first, a soft, murmuring mmmm of appreciation that coincided with the gentle slap of his thighs against hers.&nbsp; The sound gradually transformed into an increasingly enthusiastic series of 'oh' and 'oooo's' that were perhaps cliche, but had grown so because ... at least so it seemed to mercy ... the body was only capable of so many sounds when its whole focus was on a rather narrow span of nerve endings.&nbsp; Mercy could still smile, though, and she did that, a smile of unrestrained proportions before her head tipped back and her mouth opened wide to admit a faint squeak that quickly became silent as her body tensed, tightened ... and fragmented into an explosion of thought-numbing colors and sensations as her body continued to move against Lucius' purely by reflex.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-02-2015, 12:19:29</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle made an excellent point. Based on what little he had learned about her kind so far, true 'happiness' was likely elusive for her kind – just as women as beautiful as she was, were as elusive for average men in -his- world. Or perhaps demonic 'happiness' was a much different animal than what mere mortals pursued. The fact that Jazelle claimed to have known more 'happiness' than she once thought possible was probably a GOOD thing. He was truly glad for that, and deeply hoped she'd know yet more in time.<br><br>When she calmly called his activities with Lucius for what they were – Games – Duncan nodded solemnly, saying nothing for the moment. It was true. Games, with women at their center. Most of the time it was just a game for the women, as well, he was convinced of that. Though a handful of times, there were some tears shed when he and/or Lucius would admit to having no true feelings involved. A few would have their hopes up so high, only to have them dashed when neither man came around asking their fathers for permission to court them.<br><br>Jazelle mentioned something cryptic, then, and suggested he speak to the wizard about it. Something about her -word-, yet he was to ask Valerian about his promise to her, as if that would explain something in more depth to him about her. It seemed odd, yes, but Duncan found himself nodding to her again, agreeing to do as she asked.<br><br>Jazelle explained her lack of discomfort seeing her daughter being driven into the mattress by Duncan's second. That was some small relief – if Jazelle had been put off by it, Duncan would have definitely had a harsh word or two for his friend later. She also confirmed that she wouldn't truly hurt her own daughter. That, too, was a relief. It didn't seem, then, that anyone would be 'punished' the next day for what had transpired. No one was offended, then, or eager to scold.<br><br>When he stepped away from her, he walked over to a nearby stone pillar near the archway that led to another part of her chambers, raising an arm above his head to lean against it. These... feelings... were new to him, and he wanted to be careful before spouting something he might regret later. While he wasn't necessarily ashamed of the things he and Lucius had done, he wasn't altogether proud of those things, either. To his knowledge, his seed had never taken root, he had never partaken of another man's wife – not after the first one – and he had never had to face down anyone's father or brother seeking to defend the honor of their daughter or sister.<br><br>Lucius, of course, did not necessarily observe such limits, but that was HIS business.<br><br>Duncan heard Jazelle's voice, heard the gentle assurance that he need not ask forgiveness for, and she claimed to understand. Of -course- she'd understood. All the things he thought would make him look 'terrible' before her eyes, she had likely partaken in herself a thousand times over. He had been such a fool to think it would have offended her – these were -past- dalliances, and nothing more. There was only -one- woman he wanted now – even if she was not of this world.<br><br>Then he heard her begin a tale – speaking of her daughter with a gentle, genuine voice that was stirring enough to make Duncan turn on the spot, and lean his back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he listened. There was a large measure of regret in her tone, at least to Duncan's ears there was, and he felt... pity for her, for Mercy, for them both. He found himself gently pushing off the wall, walking toward her on bare feet, naked but uncaring as he stepped up behind her... and slowly wrapped both of his big arms around her waist as his face moved beside hers, to stare out the glass along with her.<br><br>“You did what you had to,” he whispered softly. “She might not have survived without you showing her -how- to survive. Those giving chase deserved it. I've been responsible for the death of -thousands-, slain on my command. Yet I, too, did what I had to do. Does that lower your opinion of me?” he asked softly, turning his head slightly, his lips brushing her ear. “Does that... lessen... your affection for me?” <br><br>“Besides, I am sure Lucius would be terribly grateful for what you did, without a doubt, if he knew,” he purred softly. “I am -fairly- certain your daughter's current condition is, indeed, a result of mutual pleasure....”<br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mutual pleasure indeed. The way her back arched, the way her hips rocked in perfect timing with his own, her hands on his shoulder as he lapped and nipped with his teeth at her nipple, one hand moving up to grasp that thick, meaty part of her breast to hold it perfectly still for the attention of his lips. He could hear her unsteady breath, could see the faint hints of her cheeks rosy hue, and all these things were proof enough to him that he was doing well.<br><br>She smiled, and she started to make noise, sort of a heralding of her impending climax, he was certain. He steeled himself, eager to last at -least- as long as he needed to get her there. Lucius was no fool, and though he played the part of an arrogant, confident warrior, he knew his limitations, and his were approaching rather quickly. If it hadn't been for that cunt earlier this evening, he likely would last much longer. That succubus had worn him down mightily, and his body was primed to complete that which was started. <br><br>And to replace that succubus with something far sweeter, far more pleasurable... it felt like Mercy was almost -cheating-, but that only made him even more determined to pleasure her as much as possible before he emptied himself on her, inside her, or a mix of the two.<br><br>Then suddenly, her head was tilting back, and silence gripped her for a moment – he didn't stop his thrusts, knowing what was happening, -feeling- it, her soft squeak – and then her body tensing and going through the motions of her orgasm. It was beautiful... picturesque almost, the sight of her back bent, her neck bent, her head pressing against the mattress as she nearly looked up toward the massive mahogany headboard of the general's impressive bed.<br><br>“That's my girl...,” he whispered softly, reassuring her as he focused his thrusts on one certain area inside her now, but slowed slightly, not wanting to overwhelm her. “Show me Mercy,” he whispered, adding another soft, gentle play on her name. “Show me how much you love it..”<br><br>Her hips moved, still, slowing along with his, matching his movement likely all on their own now. His eyes looked over her body, feasting on it, raping it, loving it and making love -to- it. Every curve, every line, he wanted to touch it all at once, his hand moving up to caress and knead one of her impressive breasts, squeezing the nipple slightly and quickly before traveling over to the other to grope and squeeze, even as he slowly eased himself in and out of her body. <br><br>He could sense something... arcane about her. Perhaps her demon blood, perhaps something else, but he could -sense- it, realizing that this was no ordinary woman. That enticed him as well, how unique she was to him, how she was like no other that he had ever bedded. His balls gave that silent, familiar ache, and his shaft tingled. She'd likely want a short rest at least, giving him time to recover as well. <br><br>But he knew once they got back to it, Lucius knew he wouldn't last much longer. That didn't bother him so much, but what bothered him was that he hoped he simply could last -long enough-...<br><br>“So beautiful,” he whispered. “The look... when you climax... THAT is what I want on the canvas that goes back on my wall,” he whispered softly, his voice deep and betraying his own body's efforts to please her. “If an artist could capture -that look-, and only from you... I would pay nearly anything..,” he said, pausing for a moment, summoning a bit of levity.<br><br>“Would you do it? Would you allow an artist to watch us make love over and over so as to catch the essence of your orgasm?” he asked, a faint smile on his lips as his face hovered inches above hers, his long hair draping around them both like a dark curtain.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>16-02-2015, 19:47:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>In some ways, Jazelle's discomfort was less than her general's, at least when it came to the unfamiliar territory of emotions and emotional connections.&nbsp; That was not to say that the succubus hadn't 'liked' previous lovers, though through much of her history, like or dislike was a very minor consideration.&nbsp; She had grown more discerning, though sometimes when the hunger had grown too great, convenience was far more a factor.&nbsp; For the most part, Jazelle only had wanted complications where they interested her.&nbsp; <br><br>Her interest in Duncan was something ... not precisely new ... but definitely had more depth and nuances than anything she had previously felt.&nbsp; Like a child who had never felt the searing agony of a burn, she did not feel fear now that she was certain that Duncan understood ... somewhat ... the import of his wager, and did not intend to wield his power over her like a whip, however gentle.&nbsp; That she had made such an open-ended wager at all was a testament to both Duncan's appeal to her senses and his appeal to her intellect.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet now that it was done, she was more curious to see where and how it would lead, a new realm to explore, and the only dangers in her sights were the very real consequences of breaking her word, and the ... jealousy ... that she had to admit she felt at the thought of Duncan with another woman.&nbsp; His past lovers did not concern her, and to hear him speak of them or think of him in their arms aroused no anger, even when she poked and prodded at the concept.&nbsp; Yet, the moment she thought of the two empty-headed, full-bosomed twins that had been fawning over him and Lucius ... well, it was better simply to not think of that.&nbsp; It was also far better that the king see to his promise and keep them occupied elsewhere until someone else took their fancy.<br><br>She also felt somewhat ... strange ... about sharing Mercy's story with Duncan, particularly now that they had met.&nbsp; Yet, the thing that her daughter kept most private was her bloodline, for understandable reasons.&nbsp; Given that this was now in the open with both Duncan and Lucius by Mercy's own admission, her daughter had never shown any reticence in discussing the circumstances.&nbsp; It was as if she almost dared those whom she told to judge her, for the sin of condemning an innocent outweighed such minor transgressions as having carnal knowledge of her half-brother ... if, indeed, Mercy had ... theft, entrapping and exposing priests who forsook their vows, and serving a god dedicated to the ritual purification of the civilized world.<br><br>What she did know, without any shred of doubt, that to have Duncan close the distance between them to pull her into the shelter of his arms, was a serenity, a certainty, beyond compare.&nbsp; Her hands, human hands, folded over his where they rested upon her as she listened.&nbsp; <em>"No&nbsp; - your actions only strengthen my opinion, my general.&nbsp; Battles lost kill far more than battles won, and those with the knowledge and strength to decide are sworn to do so, despite the weight of their orders."</em><br><br>Affection ... was this what this was?&nbsp; Desire, certainly, and the brush of his lips on her ear set her senses humming like no other.&nbsp; Strange, impossible, call it whatever seemed to fit, it was more than desire.&nbsp; A month, a year, a decade in his bed and it seemed to Jazelle as if she would still listen for the sound of his voice, turn at the hint of his presence.&nbsp; &nbsp; Perhaps it was her daughter's influence, after all.&nbsp; One did not teach without learning, and Mercy's attachments ran deep.<br><br>In the circle of Duncan's arms, serene, Jazelle wondered if this was the beginning of another of those attachments, her interest in Lucius.&nbsp; It was not impossible that her daughter only sought to gain whatever knowledge he might have, latent or not, for this artifact that had drawn her here.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet, thinking back at the focus of Lucius as he carried her into Duncan's bedchamber ... she knew her daughter better than even Mercy suspected.<br><br><em>"There are far worse things, my general.&nbsp; Shall we leave them to it?&nbsp; My bed seems somewhat neglected in its current near pristine condition -- and though I would not embarrass Bertrand by risking discovery, can I prevent it, under the sheets there would be none to see what form is held in your arms."</em><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Lucius' words were gentle music against her ears, pulsing with the flow of her heart and blood as desire coursed through her a second time that evening.&nbsp; &nbsp;It enervated her, strengthened her, as did the pulse of her lover's hunger embedded deep within the depths of her body.&nbsp; She fed on that desire, little sips no more substantial than the dip of a hummingbird's beak or the proboscis of a mosquito, taking only what Lucius could easily replenish in the course of their lovemaking.&nbsp; &nbsp;Like the full succubus, she could have, at need or desire, have drained him more deeply, but she was neither starving or possessed of an urge to do him injury.&nbsp; This was pleasure, meant for the sharing, and she was doubly glad she had rescued him from the she-bitch's clutches.<br><br>He was good at stretching out her climax, letting her ride the wave, bobbing and cresting on its surface as his slow, deliberate strokes kept her from descending from the crest too quickly.&nbsp; His hands, his lips, , his eyes, his hips, his lovely, substantial, weighty cock ... all worked expertly and almost unselfishly to heighten her pleasure and delay his own.&nbsp; She could have, like the succubus,&nbsp; sought to milk his seed from him in an explosive, hurried rush -- but there was no need to hurry art, and she doubted that her mother or her lover would be coming back to reclaim the bed before morning.<br><br>A proud warrior was a work of art, and his pride had been bruised.&nbsp; That healing, she could gladly and painlessly offer, without impatience or greed.<br><br>He whispered that she was beautiful, no lie or exaggeration as he described the painting he would like of her, to replace the one the succubus' fire had destroyed.&nbsp; They had, she thought with a faints smile as her body slowed to a gentle rock against his, traveled far in such a short time, from his wail of despair to his offer to pay nearly anything ...<br><br>"That depends on the artist ... and your endurance.&nbsp; &nbsp;There would be, I expect, rehearsal required as well ... would not your other lovers object to being so long deprived of your impressive talents?" <br><br>Mercy found herself wondering if there were not some special occasion they could celebrate in just such fashion ... his name day, the solstice, the defeat of a demon lord, or perhaps even the recovery of a precious family heirloom.&nbsp; &nbsp;A painting such as he described would make an excellent gift ... for the both of them.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-02-2015, 02:14:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The irony of the situation was mostly lost on the general, really. The original intent of his wager -was- to gain -some- amount of control over her – even if it was merely to force her to come to him when she felt that 'itch' that needed scratching. Not only that, but the wager would also control -with whom- she could scratch said itch – which, in Duncan's mind, would have been him and him alone. But in the end, she had explained the downfalls of such 'control', and he had relented.<br><br>Now, he had simply decided to -trust- her. He had offered her his heart, and he wondered if she truly knew what that meant. He was sure men in her past had thrown themselves at her feet in servitude, offering their very souls for a night with her, and like her, he was not jealous of the fact that she likely accepted such offers in numbers uncountable. He couldn't help but briefly wonder... did she had some enormous prison complex in the abyss where those who had given their souls to her, languished in perpetual servitude? Or had she simply devoured their souls somehow, simply rendering such men non-existent any longer, in body OR spirit?<br><br>Just as she considered the chance that Duncan may or may not realize the import of his wager, Duncan considered the idea that Jazelle did not truly understand what it was like to love – or be loved. That she could, with a single act, destroy him utterly far worse than any of her devious powers could. She could feed from him to the point of near and utter destruction, and that suffering would be nothing like the searing pain of betrayal – or abandonment. Did she understand that, he wondered? The way she had looked at Lucius, with a hint of curiosity and... perhaps... longing, Duncan doubted she did.<br><br>He had not yet seen signs of her jealousy... though he had demosntrated a few signs of his own. Jealous was such a fickle bitch, one moment meaning nothing and having no ground to stand on, but the next moment it could topple a man's confidence with but a single gesture – a whispered word to a potential lover, a soft, suggestive touch to the arm of another man,&nbsp; a gentle look that might promise pleasures beyond description – Duncan was aware that this creature he longed for, would be longed for by any number of other men, and to them, Duncan was not a general or someone of rank – he was merely -competition-.<br><br>These thoughts and others compelled him to move to her, embrace her from behind, to kiss and touch her as he had. She spoke in reply to him, claiming that his actions only strengthened her opinion, and expressing an understanding of the weight on a general's shoulders when they sent good men and women to die. Duncan knew the number of the fallen – he committed it to memory after every battle, even if he could not remember all the names. On days of reverence he was there, at the memorial, with the priests, visible and repentant and so very, -very- sorry for the pain he had caused his fellow countrymen and women. His friend, the King, had told him one day early on, that conquest – even successful conquest – came with a price. Duncan had learned that very early on when he first assumed the lower levels of command, and he never took such power for granted.<br><br>Jazelle had said enough in that one sentence to prove to him that she understood clearly what that weight meant. Sending his men to their deaths was still murder, but sanctioned murder, and was forgiven even by the families of those most affected by the loss of their husbands, wives, daughters, sons, sisters and brothers. <br><br>As his lips brushed her ear, part of him sought to elicit arousal, to stir her to heated action again. Lost in bliss, he could forget the faces, the grave markers, the tears and the wails of those who lived on over the years. Buried between Jazelle's thighs he could forget the blood and sacrifice, some of both delivered with his own blade. He felt her body respond gently beneath his touch – from the way her body tensed so very slightly, to the way her head tilted almost imperceptibly to allow his lips to wander even more.<br><br>He could have her, he was sure... <br><br>Jazelle spoke again, suggesting that they leave Mercy and Lucius to their own private enjoyment. She went on to suggest slipping beneath the sheets of her own bed, here, where she could resume her normal shape for him, and without hesitation he gently turned her on the spot – and pressed his lips eagerly to hers.<br><br>After a long, sultry kiss, when their lips slowly parted he leaned down slightly and scooped her up into his arms, turning and carrying her over to the bed that she indicated. He leaned over far enough that she could, if she wished, pull the blanket and sheets back, so that he could slip her beneath. He knew the 'clothes' she wore would be apart of the mirage, just a figment of the illusion, and would disappear as soon as she willed the illusion of Lady Alerian away. For his part, he was already nude, so nothing else needed tending to as he slipped into the bed beside her, pulling the sheets up over them, turning on his side to face her, eager to see the -real- view of the woman he loved.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius was all smiles and confidence on the outside, purring his words to her, sweet words, lewd words, encouraging words. He -loved- watching her cum, listening to it, -feeling- it course through her body all the way down to the intimately tight connection their bodies formed together. The succubus earlier had been nothing but sheer lust... this, with Mercy... was -art-.<br><br>He didn't seem to notice Mercy's 'feeding', her small sips and nibbles not seeming to capture his attention. If anything, if he felt -any- sort of reduction in his lust for her, he internally blamed it on the events of earlier that night. The succubus had gotten him -so close- to orgasm, and then having it denied... he was sure that event would explain how he could sense his own ending coming closer bit by bit, faster than he desired,&nbsp; unable to resist it for long.<br><br>He wanted to make love to Mercy into the night, to impress her, to make her -want- him again. But the small seed of worry that he was just going to end up as 'just another spent man' between her thighs was growing and flourshing more and more as he felt and feared that ending drawing nearer.<br><br>But on the outside – he gave no sign of inner distress. He had no idea if she was empathic, or could read his thoughts or use any other sort of magic to know the slowly brewing storm that was raging beneath the surface. He -was- indeed a proud warrior, and his pride would, indeed, be wounded if he were to fail her somehow... this woman who he had known less than a day, this woman who, as far as he know, would soon disappear and never be seen by him again.<br><br>The thought of caring about her opinion so deeply almost appalled him. This wasn't the woman he longed for month after month. In fact, she was a half-demon, someone he -should- be avoiding. Still, Lucius made it a habit to buck the norm, and right now he was bucking pretty hard.<br><br>He sought to distract her, then – not obviously of course, but her orgasm gave him the perfect opportunity to slow – and eventually come to a rest, as they spoke to each other in soft, hushed tones. He spoke of an artist capturing the moment, if it were possible. To capture that precise moment when two lovers both fell over the edge together. He wasn't sure it was possible, but the suggestion of it bloomed into true curiosity, and he had voiced his thoughts to her.<br><br>She had responded without rejection, but without acceptance. Lucius would need to... -convince- her, it seemed, something he believed he might be able to do. <br><br>“There is this artist that lives not far from here, named La'ppear,” he began, his cock twitching slightly inside her, but otherwise unmoving as he recounted his tale. “He is an old man, in his eighties, and on first glance you would never be able to guess that he was a master artist – the greatest of his time. And the most remarkable thing? He has simply gotten -better-, the older he's become,” Lucius said, a hint of wonder in his voice. <br><br>“His life-like renditions fetch the highest prices, and he does work on commission, to the highest bidder,” he said. His smile slowly faded. “Do this with me, and I will pay his price. To capture the two of us in that moment...”<br><br><em>~Something to remember you by...~</em> he thought to himself.<br><br>“As for his... discretion. He is very happily married. To his -husband-, of fifty-some-odd years,” Lucius chuckled. “Though I bet seeing you would put iron back even into his scabbard,” he joked softly, even though it seemed La'ppear was obvious into men more than women. “And yes, rehearsals would be crucial... likely repeated. Likely... numerous,” he said. “In fact, his art is so detailed, he might need multiple sittings in order to get it -just right-....”<br><br>The thought of fucking Mercy over and over again made him twitch, again, inside her.<br><br>“As for my other lovers...,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps we could simply pair them up with -your- other lovers, so that everyone would be happy?” he suggested playfully. Was she gently prodding him for a hint -about- his 'other lovers'? Was she showing some tiny, miniscule amount of possessiveness?<br><br>Or, was she simply being playful, and he was trying too hard to read too much into it?<br><br>“Tell me, Mercy...,” he whispered again, and again his smile faded. “Tell me you will consider this... And tell me what you would wish in exchange, to make it so...”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-02-2015, 20:11:29</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Whatever small tensions had arisen between them, whatever doubts, they had been dispelled, at least for the moment.&nbsp; Jazelle was content to let the ponderings, the reasons why, wait until later as her general's arms encircled her once more.&nbsp; &nbsp; She understood a good many things that she had never even considered when she had been naught but a creature of the abyss, but full understanding of other things still eluded her.<br><br>She did not know in full why Duncan Vanzelle both drew and fascinated her as he did, or why it mattered what he believed of her.&nbsp; In some ways, she had accepted his wager to test herself -- though had she not already felt the fascination, surely she would have refused.&nbsp; Duncan's king was an interesting man who amused her and treated her graciously despite her origins and the knowledge of what she was.&nbsp; His wizard was a man of honor and intellect, and they had traded favors and information, but she owed him no special allegiance beyond that, nor he her.<br><br>Things had gotten complicated ... and yet, the terms of their wager had made them simple all the same.&nbsp; The 'why' did not matter so much as that it was.&nbsp; The rest was a mental exercise for later.&nbsp; In her mind, whatever was in Duncan's, the circumstances of their wager had not changed -- he had only clarified that he did not seek to test the boundaries of it to dangerous levels.&nbsp; The wager was set, the terms agreed upon, and he could no more release her from them than he could turn back time and undo what was done.<br><br>Jazelle honored her word.&nbsp; Whether she had simply grown into such certainty from fear of being returned to the abyss, whether it was some relic of the mindset of a demon regarding bargains, or whether it was simply as much a part of her as her horns, once given expression, it was.<br><br>She did not know the full extent of what triggered Duncan's sudden urgency, but the succubus did not resist.&nbsp; Jazelle melted instantly against Duncan's body as he turned her fully into his embrace, her lips clinging to his with unhurried heat as her arms slid up around his neck, hands burrowing in the heat of his scalp, tangling in the unruly curls.&nbsp; The illusion of her dress was complete, full of nuance and detail.&nbsp; The soft fabric rubbed against his bare skin, crushed and flattened as they came together, drawing taut against Jazelle's flesh just as a real dress would.&nbsp; The heat from her skin was muted, contained, just as if the fabric that separated them had been beaten and culled, threads drawn and woven, cut and sewn into shape rather than conjured from the fabric of creation itself.&nbsp; It bunched and gathered beneath Duncan's arms as he lifted her.&nbsp; The substantial weight of her body was, perhaps, the only clue that the form she wore was misleading -- though that too she could have altered had she wished. <br><br>It needed very little of her concentration to maintain the form in all its subtle shading, even as they reached the bed, and Jazelle drug her lips from Duncan's long enough to reach down and pull back the covers and sheets so that he might slide her onto the surface.&nbsp; With the movement, her 'dress' slid from her shoulders, revealing Lady Alerian's tanned skin, breasts full and dark nipples pert and signaling arousal.&nbsp; As Duncan joined her, pulling the sheets over them, the shadows around the bed deepened, muting the rosy glow from the embers and the cool, pale light from the moon.&nbsp; There was just enough light for his eyes to see the dress dissolved like rising mists, her form melt and flow, into the pale shape of her demon form, dark, feathery wings folded beneath her, horns denting the pillow beneath her head.<br><br>Her eyes, the milky white of giant pearls, lingered on Duncan's face, her expression almost gentle despite the hunger beneath, and she wasted no time in reaching for him, drawing them together beneath the concealing mask of the sheets.&nbsp; &nbsp;If there was such a thing as paradise, Jazelle could not conceive of how it could be more right, more perfect, more welcome ...<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Slowly, like sinking into the softness of the thickest feather bed imaginable, Mercy descended from the dizzying heights of her climax, her dark eyes slowly regaining focus as they fastened on Lucius' face above her.&nbsp; Their movements had stilled, though she could still feel Lucius deep within her depths, still solid, full, heated and pulsing with the steady beat of his heart. <br><br>He spoke of an artist, a skilled artiste, in fact, who could surely capture the image of his desire upon canvas, and as he did so, the priestess in Mercy surfaced, and prodded at her demon half, reminding her that the best bargains were those that rewarded with equal generosity.&nbsp; Lucius was both a warrior and a lover of skill, and though there were certain charming irreverences about him, he had aptly proven that he had focus and determination when they were desirable.&nbsp; &nbsp; While his fundamental lack of seriousness, and the ability to take himself less than seriously, set him apart from other Chosen of Phaenix that she had known, it was not for her to decide, only for her god.<br><br>Her eyes were intent as she watched him, as she sought to 'see' behind the surface of his words, his desire -- not with any magical conjurings, but simply calling upon her wisdom and experience, her powers of perception, to discern why this idea had grasped him, and whether it would endure or simply fade once he had surrendered to his own release rather than fought against it with such consummate determination.<br>Lucius demanded that she consider his request, and requested that she name what she would ask in return.&nbsp; Mercy smiled, softly, as her arms slid lazily up and around his shoulders, and her muscles began a rhythmic pattern of squeezed, hold, release and her hips began once again to move with slow, controlled, purposeful, tiny movements.&nbsp; No, he would receive nothing more than a brief respite, for all his delicious generosity, though she would give him her words to help him focus.<br><br>"I would be delighted to help you create this sensual masterpiece, Lucius." &nbsp;She would, in fact, even happily cover the cost of it, and secure another artist if this La'ppear did not find the subject matter to his tastes.&nbsp; Mercy's circle of influence was, after all, broad and wide-reaching, and she was usually rather good at getting what she wanted.&nbsp; "All I would ask in return ... help me.&nbsp; Help me secure your family's blade before the priests below locate it, snatch it from their grasp -- we need not even be successful; I would ask only that you make the attempt.&nbsp; And it would give us ... much opportunity ... to rehearse."<br><br>Whether this was the hand of her god at work, or whether it was just the fact that she was in no hurry to part company with Lucius, it seemed an excellent idea, and she bent all of her most persuasive skills, voice, gaze, kiss, and body, toward convincing him to agree.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-02-2015, 08:21:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Maybe...Just maybe it took someone as -unreal- as Jazelle, to finally get through to Duncan again. He was quite aware of the fact that he had closed himself off – supposedly forever – after the debacle earlier in his life. He had kept women, especially, at a distance, at arm's length – enjoying the sensual offerings, but never letting them closer than the kind of closeness shared beneath soft sheets and warm blankets. Sharing bodily fluids was not dangerous – not really, especially compared to sharing hearts. <br><br>He knew he had closed himself off to such possibilities, walled up this heart beyond mortar and stone, as if it were some hidden compartment in an enormous castle. No one could even see it, or guess that it was there, though some suspected it might be, despite evidence to the contrary.<br><br>Of course, there were exceptions to his rule – Lucius had befriended him – even though Duncan despised him at first. They were equals, once, in the lower ranks, both young and trying to prove themselves. Lucius had boasted that one day he would be the greatest warrior in the land, and Duncan had felt that was just annoying enough to entice him into proving the man wrong. They waged a back-and-forth rivalry in many ways – from drinking contests, to feats of strength and skill, to counting kills on the battlefield, to – yes – the bedroom, where they would often compare their conquests, comparing the 'fields' they had 'plowed' against one another, never accusing the other of lying, never thinking the other would stoop so low as to 'cheat'.<br><br>But these friends – these people who he allowed -somewhat- close to his heart, had never truly broken through. Time and again Lucius tried to set him up with someone who -might-, just maybe, break through those walls, and every one of those women had failed.<br><br>So, perhaps, there was simply no living woman in existence who could do it. Perhaps it would take a woman of otherworldly proportions – quite literally – to bring him back into the world of the living, completely. Deep down, this frightened him. Old walls broken were not so easily repaired, and of -all- creatures to do the breaking for... a -succubus-?<br><br>Why <em>-not-</em>?<br><br>Even as he slid into bed next to her, even as the darkness around them thickened like some protective abyssal cocoon, his eyes were on her. Even as Lady Aleran's nude body showed&nbsp; the signs of enticement, beckoning him to touch and grope and enjoy it, his eyes were on hers. Her skin, her hair, and those eyes – all of it melted away, morphed, shifted and squirmed beneath his gaze, until the succubus herself lay with him<br><br>Her eyes returned the favor, staring back at him, and he -longed- for those eyes to love him. He ached for those milky white orbs to return his own desires and feelings ten-fold. He knew he would simply -die-, if he could show her what real love was about, just once, in her long and dark life. <br><br>She reached for him, and he tensed, flexed, rolled her to her back as he moved atop her, mounting her in one swift, smooth stroke that planted himself inside her so perfectly – it was as if it were simply -meant- to be. His eye lids fluttered, his jaw hanging slack... was her body -always- this wet for him, -always- at the ready for penetration? Was that her -way-? Or did he, the man, the mortal, have -anything- to do with it?<br><br>This could all be a lie. Her trued form could be something incredibly hideous, and -this- for might very well be just another of the hundreds she had used. Perhaps this one was the one she thought might frighten him, the first time she showed him – yet when his cock grew as hard as steel at the sight, perhaps she -felt- it, sensed it, and simply enjoyed the effect it had on him?<br><br>He didn't care, though, and he realized that now as his powerful hips began the slow, rocking motion, his thickness spreading her tightly around his girth. He moved slower than usual, but every bit as strong and deep, his eyes remaining on hers. <br><br>Perhaps it -<em>was</em>- all a lie. But he had decided&nbsp; now, all these years later, that it would be better to love a lie – than to never love again.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius moved slowly – or not at all – as Mercy came down from her high. He watched her, loving the look on her face, the faint tint of blush on her cheeks (though it might have just been his imagination), though he doubted the smile on her face was fake or illusion. Her velvet-lined tunnel pulsed and gripped in the aftermath of it, encouraging him to -join her-, to let loose his own pleasure within, and the temptation was most certainly there. But he resisted, just as he had resisted the demoness earlier that evening. And just like that demoness earlier in the evening, he resisted -just barely-.<br><br>Speaking of the desired painting – it was as close as he would admit to having formed -any- sort of attachment to her. What was he, some sort of human-shaped -puppy-? No, he would not admit such a thing, though he loved her personality, her wit, and of course – what she was doing to him now. Perhaps part of it was due to her 'arcane heritage', and he weighed that readily in his mind. But he had no reason to believe there was witchery at play, not when her reactions and emotions seemed to be quite genuine, if he was any judge of character.<br><br>Her eyes remained glued to him, and his to her. That was a very intimate feeling, staring into one another's eyes, as if doing so might yield some deeply-buried secrets from the other that might grant an advantage or insight into the other. He was just a man, afterall, a mortal. There were thousands upon thousands of his kind across the land, and she'd have little trouble seducing the vast majority of them on a whim. But she was truly -special-. He was no master of demonology, but he had a pretty distinct impression that half-breed demon-creatures were -not- rampaging across the world by the thousands, or even by the hundreds. <br><br>She was as near unique a woman as he had ever bedded, and she was as near unique a woman he had ever shared such an intense exchange of gazes with.<br><br>And then the little bitch had to -cheat-. <br><br>Her sex did not rest, then. Instead, he fluttered to life, stroking him slowly, so faintly that for a moment, he thought perhaps she was -moving- somehow, but she wasn't. That silken, satin-velvet sleeve rippled along his length, causing his eyes to close for a moment as he mentally cursed. Most women didn't have -near- this much control over their sex, while some women had incredibly detailed control. <br><br>Mercy made -those- women look – and feel – like amateurs by comparison.<br><br>The look on his face told it all – his 'plan' defeated, his hope for respite, denied. The roguish smirk, the knowing glint in his eye... She was patient, and she had come to -this- 'battlefield' well-armed.<br><br>Then she spoke, which did have the effect she predicted – it allowed him to focus on something -else-, his eyes even lowering to focus on her deep red lips as she spoke. <br><br>My, how they looked like the color of blood in the near darkness...<br><br>She agreed to help him, and those first words made him smile widely. He seemed completely fine with the notion of a third person watching them have sex, obviously, and he seemed quite pleased that she would consider such a thing. In the past, he had thought about it, heard stories of -others- doing such a thing, yet he had never come across someone with whom he would wish to create such a long-lasting memory.<br><br>Until now.<br><br>La'ppear was, also, one of the most -detailed- artists in the realms. He wasn't cheap. But as he felt her silken grip tense and stroke him slowly, a -tiny- tremor from his tip to his base, he knew it would be so very much worth every gold coin. Then, when Mercy was gone... he'd have that memory forever hanging from his wall. He could already envision other women, other conquests in the future looking up at the painting and asking, 'Who is the woman in the painting?'<br><br>And Lucius's response would be something akin to, 'Someone you will never equal...'<br><br>If that wasn't a challenge to entice any adventurous woman to rise to the occasion, he didn't know what else would.<br><br>And then Mercy continued, responding with her desired exchange – for his aid. Of course, Lucius was no fool. She was obviously no damsel in distress – oh gods, she was far -from it-. But her 'plea' as it was, was quite convincing, quite... compelling. To secure his family's blade – though he knew not why that would be important at all to her – was all that she asked in return.<br><br>And to make it the most wondrous, sweetest, irresistible pleas he'd ever heard, she assured him that there would be more 'rehearsals' in the future while they gave chase to the prize.<br><br>He smiled faintly for a moment as he listened, her voice caressing his ears as sweetly as her cunt caressed his cock. Was she working her magic now, he wondered? Was he leaning towards saying, ~Yes, anything for you...~ all on his own, or was her will gently, subtly nudging him in that direction? How would hunting the blade – and even finding it – remotely harm him, Duncan, or anyone else he cared about?<br><br>The following kiss was yet another form of invitation, her tongue mingling with him unlike any other woman would. Usually his conquest would be hurried, heated, sometimes even shoving their tongue into his mouth as if to get through the foreplay as quickly as possible (or, more likely, to simply shut him up). But Mercy... her tongue slithered, making his thickness swell every so slightly inside her as she initiated a kiss to remember.<br><br>When it ended – and he truly had no idea if the kiss had lasted seconds, minutes... or longer – Lucius locked eyes with her again, and something told him that she already knew his answer.<br><br>“Is that all?” he asked flippantly, playfully faint smile on his lips as if her request were as simple as asking him to fetch her a mug of ale. But the look in his eye was serious – and slowly, his hips began to move again, a short stroke followed by a longer one, a longer one followed by an even longer one, followed by a faster one before his voice softly set forth the challenge.<br><br>“Mercy... make me cum... and I'll do just about anything for you...”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-02-2015, 18:59:32</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>In the tower, Jazelle's day was ending much better than it had begun.&nbsp; &nbsp; To have her general smile at her, to reach for her without suspicion or caution, was more rewarding than she would have thought possible upon their first meeting.&nbsp; There was also nothing of victory in her pleasure in those things -- the 'game' that Valerian and Bertrand had set her on was of no further consequence ... save that it had led her to Duncan.<br><br>As old as she was, Jazelle still had much to learn.&nbsp; Noone had to explain lust to succubi -- it was innate in them, present and understood as naturally as breathing from the first time their eyes opened to behold the abyss.&nbsp; Love had been just a word until she came up against someone who loved completely and truly ... that love had burned her worse than hellfire, and she had retreated before it, cowed.<br><br>One who loved, unselfishly and fully, was beyond the touch of a succubus, unless he forsook that love.&nbsp; She understood that some did, and there had been those of her sisters who had bragged of causing men to set aside their armor to experience the unearthly delights promised, their hidden hungers and temptations teased out and dangled in front of them like bait on a fisherman's hook.<br><br>She herself had never found herself up against that depth of feeling, save for that one time -- and she had never forgotten the experience.&nbsp; Now, no longer bound to the will of her demon master, she was glad of it ... and a part of her remembered that long ago time with something akin to reverence, even awe.&nbsp; She would not have admitted it, but that such power existed was ... as it should be.&nbsp; To experience it herself was something so far beyond her hopes that she had not even considered it possible.<br><br>Her daughter had loved -- Alexi, her half-brother, and the love had persisted even after his betrayal.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then there had been the priest who had had the opportunity to slay her, but had not ... for the love of the boy he had been, and the girl who had not noticed him.&nbsp; Jazelle did not remember his name, but she had come in answer to her daughter's plea, and together they had rescued him from a plight not much different from the one she had rescued Mercy from.&nbsp; The Lady's church did not forgive betrayals of their own -- not when public embarrassment loomed, certainly.<br><br>Jazelle herself had felt liking, admiration, even affection for some few mortal men over the years.&nbsp; What she had felt for them ... somewhere inside, she realized that Duncan was more to her than any of those had been.&nbsp; Was it because he had refused her, then bound her to him in a reckless risk that seemed to resonate with his desire ... desire that he had denied?<br><br>Whatever the reason, she was willing and eager to let him find forgetfulness, forgiveness, happiness, or whatever else he would find within her embrace.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle denied him nothing, but gave all that his body demanded and more, as she sought to exhaust him, to drown him in her caresses, until there was no more of sorrow, no more of worry, in his eyes, and the only word upon his lips her name, a song to her ears, as he finally slipped into slumber and she settled in against him.&nbsp; Jazelle cradled her general in her arms, and kept watch ... dozing ... content ... replete ... and determined that no further disturbance would trouble him this night, even if that meant someone had a midnight swim in the castle's moat.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy didn't really trouble herself with the kind of thoughts that unsettled her mother.&nbsp; She felt what she felt, it was as simple as that, and defining it by someone else's words and expectations seemed a little foolish to the priestess. <br><br>Was this delightful excitement, this focused and sharp interest, love?&nbsp; Perhaps.&nbsp; Did it deserve capital letters, a flourish?&nbsp; Perhaps, perhaps not.&nbsp; Was she expecting to settle down with the irreverent Lucius, to cleave to him and him alone, to see what trouble quarter blooded-children could get into?&nbsp; No -- such things were useless to expect and to plan.&nbsp; What would be would be, and whatever her god's plans for her, she simply planned to enjoy the hell out of the ride and not buy trouble.<br><br>Yet she enjoyed the look in Lucius' eyes much more than was reasonable, as he reacted to the deliberate, intimate caress of her body.&nbsp; He reacted to the challenge as much as he reacted to the pleasure, one fueling the other, heightening the pleasure of both -- it was a rare man with stamina and prowess who could match her in other areas, and she was not fool enough not to appreciate all of his good qualities.<br><br>Lucius was going to agree; Mercy knew it before he said a word.&nbsp; She saw it in his eyes, saw that one night wasn't going to be enough.&nbsp; &nbsp; It was not an unreasonable request, after all.&nbsp; Lucius seemed to have scant better reason to like the priests in this keep than she did, though they were only brothers to those who had condemned her.&nbsp; Most of those old farts were dead, and she hoped they liked the rewards waiting for them -- she had more confidence in The Lady than she did in her priests, and doubted that their sins would be forgiven merely because they spoke to worshippers in her name.&nbsp; The Lady was no so easily fooled as her flock.<br><br>Mercy's quarrel was not with the goddess, who espoused love, life, generosity, and forgiveness -- but with her priests who lied with their very being in the manner of their living.&nbsp; HER god did not demand fidelity, chastity, modesty, or any of those other things -- theirs did, and yet she was condemned while they forgave themselves their lying shortcomings.<br><br>But such thoughts had no place in a moment like this, and Mercy wished to squander not one moment more of this on such as them.&nbsp; Not when Lucius was infinitely more fascinating, more generous, more exciting ....<br><br>"That is all," she agreed, soft as a whisper, as his hips began to move.&nbsp; She adjusted her responses accordingly, tightening her muscles as he eased back, as if reluctant to part from him even that much, that long.<br><br>"<strong>That</strong> I plan to do regardless," she whispered in answer, her own eyes glinting as he flung down the gauntlet.&nbsp; Her mouth, red as blood, red as berries, lifted to his, tongue invading with slow deliberate intent.&nbsp; It was a distraction from her real intent, her next move, as she moved swiftly, clasping his shoulders, her legs bracing, muscles in her arms and thighs tensing like coiled springs as she used her strength to flip them on the bed.&nbsp; Her hands pinned him there as she slid astride, thighs holding him steady as she eased one hand from his shoulder and reached down to adjust the angle of their joining.<br><br>Then, mindful of his less than pleasant experience earlier, she eased her grip and bent over him, her lips sliding softly, gently over his jaw, his cheek, bestowing tiny, butterfly kisses before hovering just above his lips.&nbsp; Her eyes stared into his as one hand held her torso suspended, breasts brushing his chest.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her free hand found its way to his ear, into his hair, brushing back strands almost tenderly.<br><br>She might have demon blood, but from him she wanted nothing but what he was prepared to give, what would please them both, and she did not wish any comparison in his eyes to the she-bitch who had tried to drain him ... so she waited, patient and eager all at once.<br><br>"Do you trust me?" she whispered, the air from her words brushing against his lips like yet another kiss.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy was confident that Lucius would understand the intent of her words, and trust enough for the moment was all that she asked.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>19-02-2015, 08:14:43</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan went searching for -much- in her embrace, and even if he didn't use words to convey it to her, someone of her ability and age would likely sense it. Making love to her as he did, it obviously wasn't -purely- about the satisfaction of draining his stones within her. It was obvious there was more to it than that, again – unspoken words. <br><br>He took her almost desperately this time, working up quite a sweat, and quite a frenzy near the end. His hands explored her again all throughout, not at all afraid to touch her, and in fact, seeming to relish it, especially the parts of her that were -different-. From sucking on her demon-tongue, to rubbing, caressing, and gripping her horns when things grew -tense-, he rode her well, long and thoroughly – until he met his end.<br><br>Out of breath and gasping for air, having finished every bit as powerfully as he had before, his hands and arms pulled her, embraced her – with an intensity that indicated he wasn't about to let go. The only word he had said during the entire session was her name, and each time he said it, there was a slightly different inflection used. Wanting, pleading, loving, awe-filled... his vocabulary had one word for the night, and it was her name.<br><br>Her efforts to exhaust him bore fruit – as she always did when she chose to drive her mate to that point. Duncan was resistant, sturdy, possessing incredible stamina – but there was no way to hold off the inevitable, and with his load delivered deep within her, he proved that he was, in some cases – just another man.<br><br>He caressed her without speaking, and soon... the caresses grew shorter, slower... as sleep crept up on him like a thief in the night, and stole his consciousness. One big arm across her, one leg across one of her thighs, it was a half-hearted attempt to pin her to the bed with him. If she wanted to leave, she quite easily could... but at least in his dreams, she was there to stay.<br><br>- - - - - -- - - --- -- - - --- - - -- -<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius's stalling tactics were working so far.... a least for now. Which was a -good- thing in his eyes. Of course, he knew if he were to lose himself with her, they could simply clean up and go at it again. But in -his- experience, the women he'd been with put a lot of weight on... control. Stamina. A man with command of his own body. And though he was not at all sure if Mercy was such a woman, he had decided from the start that he would not risk it. He'd thrill her as much as he could, withholding himself as long as he could, and hope for the best.<br><br>It was a losing battle, though. It always was.<br><br>When she confirmed that her request was, indeed, all that she asked for him in return, he didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. On one hand, she could have demanded more, and those demands could have been impossible or improbably ones. 'Fetch me the Queen's crown'... well, THAT likely wasn't going to happen (at least not without a LOT of favors owed, including to the Queen herself). But on the other hand, she -could- have demanded that he give her kisses in return, or back-rubs, or... massages of other sorts.<br><br>Oh well. He wasn't going to be picky, when there was really no need for it. She had hinted at 'rehearsals', and -that- had been enough to get his attention.<br><br>And when she made it clear she planned to -end- him, regardless, his smile simply grew at an almost uncontrolled pace across his lips. “You seem awful confident in your abilities, demon-child,” he said playfully. “As I have already proven... I have some ability to resist your kind.” It was a ruse, of course. He was about to lose his nut – or both of him – in the very near future unless she ran away, or something else equally tragic. But he enjoyed their banter, especially since none of it had been insulting or hurtful – at least none that he had heard so far.<br><br>The kiss, as sensual as it was, was a ruse of her own. He felt the tensing just before it happened, and he remained loose and limp, allowing her to make the maneuver with ease until he was on his back, and she was atop him. He gave her a crooked grin – as if silently reminding her that the succubus earlier that evening had done this -very thing- to him... but then, Mercy made some adjustments... adjustments that he knew were even -more- pleasing than anything that abyss-begotten whore had done to him earlier.<br><br>She leaned forward, her beautiful breasts brushing against his chest. Her lips caressed his jaw, his cheek, giving soft kisses that a normal 'romp in bed' wouldn't give, at least not in his estimation. He remained still for the moment, enjoying the attention. He could feel some of her hair brush the side of his cheeks, and he resisted the urge to raise his hands upward to sink his fingers into it, to pull her head to him and crush her lips against his own. She continued with the soft kisses, and instead, he felt -her- hand slide into his hair, touching him gently.<br><br>And most of all, the angle -below-, the way his cock curved up and inside her, especially with her bent over to him like she was... blissful didn't even begin to describe it. Then her lips pulled away a fraction of an inch, to whisper to him, to ask him a single question that caught him off-guard for a moment.<br><br>Did he trust her? Well... to some degree he already did. Being intimate with someone required -some- level of trust, of course. Right now, she had his -very- sensitive bits inside -her- sensitive bits, and it wouldn't take much effort for her to seriously -damage- his very sensitive bits. As such, yes, he trusted her...<br><br>But the question had more meaning to it than that, he knew, and there was the rub.<br><br>He didn't trust her mother. At ALL. A full-blooded demon? With the powers told of in tales? Even his own pa had used to tell him, 'There's some grain of truth in every tale', and when it came to succubi, Lucius was – at this time – very concerned for Duncan, and -very- sure that Jazelle had -some- underlying agenda that Lucius feared would crush his friend. <br><br>But this wasn't about Jazelle. This was about Jazelle's half-blooded daughter...<br><br>As he felt her lithe form above him, thighs spread, her breasts brushing his skin, and himself only moments away from -finally- feeling the immense relief he felt was long over-due, he -wanted- to trust her. He knew it was a choice, of course, and he had to quickly weight the pros and cons. The cons, of course, consisted of her possibly trying to kill him, or at the very least trying to steal some sort of familial artifact that she seemed interested in. But the pros....<br><br>He smirked slightly, then, the mischief in his eyes quite clear.<br><br>“For now...,” he whispered back to her, as playful a way he could say 'yes' as he could imagine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-02-2015, 03:39:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"Do you?"&nbsp; Mercy's voice was softly skeptical, but without heat in her reply when Lucius warned that he could resist her kind. &nbsp;"I think that perhaps you do not fully realize what you are up against - you hear 'half succubus' and you think my skills are halved as well.&nbsp; If I am half succubus, I am half woman as well.&nbsp; I am also a priestess whose god does not require or revere celibacy.&nbsp; There are volumes in the temple library which very well might make even my mother blush, dealing with positions and techniques and libations, with the most ... interesting ... illustrations."&nbsp; &nbsp;Her kisses continued, between words and syllables, the barest brushing of her lips, her tongue along Lucius' own lips, cheeks, ears as she straddled him, and arranged him to her satisfaction.<br><br>She could almost see the wheels turning as he considered her question, though she took no offense at the delay.&nbsp; Certainly, they were both aware that to get where they were now, with him buried cock-deep inside her, naked, still wet from the baths, there was at least some small level of trust.&nbsp; He had seen her use of magic, and somewhat of her other abilities.&nbsp; He had also felt the strength of her body, and surely must guess that she could offer substantial challenge over several levels if she so chose -- and yet she had not.&nbsp; She had admitted much that she did not have to, and had, in fact, dealt with him with an unusual degree of honesty.&nbsp; Of course, without trust ... how would he know these things?<br><br>Jazelle's confirmation, and her lover's acceptance, counted for something -- as did her rescue.&nbsp; The rest ... instinct and attraction, and both were powerful forces.&nbsp; Mercy only wanted Lucius' thoughts guided in that direction, so that he had reason to contemplate the possibilities.&nbsp; &nbsp; Mercy wished, at that moment, that she knew more of this wizard her mother seemed to trust.&nbsp; The blade that she sought ... was a very powerful artifact in the wrong hands.&nbsp; Any sane wizard capable of not condemning her mother out of hand would surely consider the priests below the 'wrong hands' if he was aware of even a small portion of their hidden activities.&nbsp; In Jazelle's hands, as she was now, it would be of no use, good or bad.&nbsp; In hers ... well, in hers, it would remove&nbsp; most of the church's arsenal against her when they butted heads.&nbsp; &nbsp; That, in her eyes, was an excellent use of an artifact that was, admittedly, was bad news in almost any other set of hand.<br><br>Mercy breathed in, and re-focused her thoughts as Lucius answered.&nbsp; <em>"For now ..."&nbsp; &nbsp;</em>Yet, he smiled as he said it, and there was absolutely no tension, other than the right kind, in his body beneath hers.<br><br>"Good enough ... for now," she breathed softly, leaning in for one more long, slowly heating kiss, as her hips began to move, forward and back, in a slow but steady rhythm.&nbsp; &nbsp;The angle felt ... exquisite ... tight and applying a lovely pressure and friction right along that sweet spot, and she made a soft sound of appreciation into the kiss.<br><br>There was no more need or time for complicated thought, at least any thought more complicated than 3 to 1 was quite a good start, especially considering the quality and intensity of each.&nbsp; &nbsp;She intended to do just as Lucius had asked, to 'make' Lucius cum, not only to secure his help but because she wanted to ... and she intended to use whatever means at her disposal to keep him where he was until he did -- physical, magical, demonic, or womanly -- in whatever proportion needed.<br><br>And she fully intended to enjoy every sweet movement, every heartbeat, every cry, both his and her own.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/succubus.jpg)</div><br>In the tower, Jazelle's arms curled about her lover's sleeping form, her fingers softly stroking through his curls as he slept.&nbsp; She did not sleep, per se, but she rested, and the weight of his arm, his thigh, over her was pleasant and oddly sweet.&nbsp; <br><br>Her senses were extended out over the keep like a fine, invisible mist, but other than the faint heat that was her daughter's presence, she sensed nothing of the abyss nearby ... though as she could focus on the fine nuances rather than her own pleasures, her own worries, there were faint tinges here and there.&nbsp; Some of it, she knew, came from Valerian's warded arsenal, and need not concern her.&nbsp; Yet there were other subtle glimmers -- far below.&nbsp; Mercy's priests, perhaps?&nbsp; She wondered if Valerian or the king knew of the dangerous game they played.&nbsp; The bard who had said to beware of staring too long and too deeply into the abyss, lest you find it staring back, had been wise.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>20-02-2015, 09:36:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius simply nodded, the slow, confident kinda nod that told her he truly believed he could 'resist' her... just as he was 'resisting' the slide and draw of her tight channel over his swollen shaft. He listened, though, as she expressed her doubts about his knowing what he was up against. Half succubus and half woman – and that much he -definitely- knew. She then reminded him that she was a priestess, and her god did not require celibacy – which, given their current status together, he kinda figured out on his own. Then she spoke of volumes of special tomes in HER temple library hat were full of all sorts of info of the carnal variety, including ones with illustrations.<br><br>Without missing a beat, Lucius shrugged. “If the illustrations weren't up to your standards... I didn't know any good artists at the time I wrote those books,” he said, obviously teasing. But his curiosity was certainly piqued to say the least, though he wasn't even sure if she was being serious, or just exaggerating to him for effect. Sex manuals... at a -temple-? What in the god's name sort of deity did she pay homage to?<br><br>Her kisses continued – and he continued right along with them, soft brushing of lips, which he seemed to like -very- much. She'd shift every few moments, making herself comfortable, finding the perfect 'saddle position' for her body atop him.<br><br>How ironic, then, that the two of them were thinking similar outcomes – but for very different reasons. Mercy as driven by her religious ambitions, to retrieve a powerful artifact, to please her deity, to thwart the church establishment that currently possessed the blade.<br><br>Lucius... just wanted to fuck her brains out. And then fuck her some more. If that meant helping her retrieve some sword, if that made her happy – and wet – he was going to nod his head and go right along with it.<br><br>She smiled at his response, though, and that made him smile wider in return. 'For now'. It meant that he trusted her in the here and now, and it hinted that in the future, he might even trust her more... or not. That really depended on -her-, he knew, but he was more than willing to take the time to find out for sure.<br><br>She almost echoed him, telling him that his response was 'good enough... for now,' too. Stealing his line! This woman deserved an extra -hard- fuck for stealing his line!<br><br>But such thoughts faded as she -leaned- in again, breasts stroking along his skin – and her tight tunnel gliding up his entire length until she positioned his head -right- at the sweet spot... their kiss was sweet, and he smiled into it, feeling her position herself right where he -knew- she would like it... and so did he. She purred against his lips in appreciation, and he didn't hold back his soft moans of delight, either. She deserved to be praised for this... the most sensual thing he had felt in a long time...<br><br>She seemed to settle into a rhythm, now, and his next moan was deeper than the rest. Her body rubbing against him as she moved, his hands rose to her hips, sliding back to grip the lobes of her ass, squeezing, spreading them apart as she continued to move, one of his hands moving up to sink into her hair, fisting a handful of her long, black locks. Her kiss was the secret weapon – at least here, now, -this- particular moment. Their tongues danced, and his moans became almost like one long, steady one as he continued to rock. He kissed her harder, his breath taken in through his nose, his hips lifting slightly with each smooth rock of her hips...<br><br>Until his lips pulled from hers, his hand in her hair pressing gently toward him, her forehead against his.<br><br>“Fuck me...,” he whispered near breathlessly. “Come on, Mercy, FUCK me... make that stupid cunt earlier tonight look like a novice,” he almost hissed as the woman atop him continued to move. “Show me, woman. Show me what you can -do-....,” he urged her, almost urgently... His excitement was at a level she hadn't seem from him before, but in her experience, she likely knew he was drawing close.... <br><br>“Join me...,” his voice urged even more deeply, not sure how close she was – or if she was close at all... but sometimes, all it took was a suggestion....<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>20-02-2015, 22:57:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Some of the illustrations were quite ... inspiring ..." Mercy answered, with a lift of an eyebrow and an unabashed beginnings of a grin.&nbsp; "Sex magic is very potent magic, arcane or divine.&nbsp; Even the stuffiest gods have some element of it in their worship, fertility rites, marriage rites, and the like.&nbsp; You might be surprised at the origins of some of the stuffiest customs."<br><br>Certainly, she thought Lucius might enjoy taking part in some of those rituals, but that was definitely a conversation for later.&nbsp; &nbsp;Should he prove to be one of her god's Chosen, it would be revealed in time.&nbsp; Whether he was or wasn't didn't necessarily preclude him taking part in some of the rites, of course, were he willing ... but conversion of the truly worthy was a thing best eased into.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no hurry.<br><br>Right now, she was quite happy with the way things were going.&nbsp; They'd had a lovely time in the baths, wreaked at least some minor havoc in the peace of mind of Lucius' commander and her mother, and now were engaged in what had become a long, almost leisurely fuck in what was surely one of the biggest beds in the castle keep ... and one that had almost certainly seen some use that night.<br><br>For all his bravado, his endurance, and his determination, Mercy could feel that victory was nigh.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was well aware of the potency of their kiss in the endeavor, whether or not Lucius would admit to it.&nbsp; It was one thing to exercise control, to push back that delicious, all-consuming heat and tension -- but quite another to do so in the determined distraction of a kiss.&nbsp; Like sex in miniature, such a kiss was an intimacy, a giving, and acknowledgement of both person's involvement in the endeavor.&nbsp; It was, perhaps, even more intimate than the sex itself, for the latter did not require response, per se.&nbsp; A kiss, a real kiss, was a wholehearted commitment to the moment, and Mercy took full advantage of it.<br><br>The success of it was evident in Lucius' struggle to find breath enough to speak as he encouraged her to fuck him, to bring him over the peak to his own blissful release.&nbsp; Mercy's own breathing was ragged, though she was fit enough that the mere effort of working the muscles of her thighs and her sex was no giant undertaking.&nbsp; Rather, it was the heat of their bodies' friction, the slow building of tension in the long, unbroken stroke of their movements.&nbsp; Now that the water was not there to steal away her body's natural lubrication, there was no true resistance, only the swelling tightness of the fit as his body demanded nature's sweet release of seed, and her own tightened to coax it forth - mutual bliss, disguising nature's unending cycle.<br><br>There would be no halt, no slowing, no surrender this time, and the rise and fall of Mercy's hips reflected her focus, her enthusiastic determination. &nbsp; "Cum for me, Lucius.&nbsp; &nbsp;All for me.&nbsp; &nbsp;Let me hear it, shout it out to the heavens."&nbsp; She wasn't quite sure where Jazelle and Duncan had gone, but she doubted that either of them would truly mind too much if they heard.&nbsp; She kept her eyes on Lucius' face, drinking in the expression, the slow and subtle shift in focus,&nbsp; his pleasure intensifying hers and urging her on until the slap of her ass upon his thighs was a steady, unbroken cadence ... a quick-time march that would not falter until the flag had been reached.<br><br>She spared no more thought, no worry, for the succubus who had been attempting to drain Lucius at her timely arrival.&nbsp; That they had cooperated to send her to her roost with scorched wings and unsated hunger was all that she needed to know what divine fate intended.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>21-02-2015, 14:12:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Mercy's comments about these 'illustrations' were now making him -quite- curious. She went on to explain how powerful sex magic could be, arcane or divine, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was speaking literally... or figuratively. She made a good point about marriage and fertility rites, and he nodded his head slowly in agreement with everything she said.<br><br>“Well, now I have to see these illustrations for myself sometime,” he purred softly, his voice almost a lazy slur. “And sex magic? Do you mean... like the kind you are casting on me right now?” he asked with a cheeky grin. “Or do you mean -actual- magic? If so... this is a topic we definitely need to address sometime...”<br><br>He was curious, obvious, but he wasn't curious enough to have a classroom lecture issued right then and there, not when there was so much more interesting business to take care of...<br><br>It almost made him envious, even jealous, gods forbid, when he had a momentary flash of Mercy kissing another man like she kissed him now. It was -intensely- personal the way she did it – or rather, the way -the- did it together. Kissing before, with his previous lovers, had been 'foreplay', and nothing more. With Mercy, it seemed like so much more.. which in itself was quite different, which is why he couldn't answer his own question, 'seemed like so much more -what-'?<br><br>Whatever it was, he simply enjoyed it, delving his lips and tongue with hers in that slow, silky seduction that seemed to match the pace of the bump and grind going on down below. Like two songs played at the same time, both beautiful, but together forming something that transcended either song individually. Hands on bodies were the accompanying choir, touches and caresses, a sudden, smooth kneading of her breast as it brushed against him, a hand snaking into hair, gripping it, fisting it, as if the lust and desire would grow if it would be ripped from the scalp.<br><br>Like her, his breath was ragged as well. He was stout, had incredible stamina, but it was clearly obvious that he had put himself into this endeavor quite deeply, beginning back at the pool. The heat between them was shared, equal doses of desire and sharing. She moved every bit as skillfully as he had moved earlier, and for a brief moment, Lucius wanted to steal her away and chain her to his bed, for he was certain in that moment that he had -finally- met his match...<br><br>Her slick channel reinforced her own enjoyment of the moment, and then she spoke in return to him, urging him to cum – for her.... Right away, he nodded, his eyes closing, and a soft.... “Yes, for -you-...” whispered forth, barely audible. She wanted to hear it, too, which caused the corners of his mouth to curve upward a bit in agreement. Lucius wasn't the type to hold back – unless mother and father were in the next room, and the closest to 'mother and father' he knew right now was simply -gone- completely.<br><br>Her cadence was unrelenting, and the slap of her ass-skin against the front upper parts of his thighs was like music to his ears. He was almost expecting it again, -almost- expecting someone to show up at the last possible minute to interrupt them, as he had been interrupted earlier that night in a very similar position. Only -this- one was far and away an improvement, a superior experience, not the least of which was because of the sudden arch of pleaure that coursed through his lower body.<br><br>His hands suddenly -tensed-, nails digging into the plump firmness of her breast, his fist pulling on her hair suddenly, but not drastically (yet). His hips jerked upward, his feet planting on the bed for leverage, and he lifted her off the bed completely when he bridged his back, his shoulders pressing into the mattress beneath him. His eyes – clenched tightly shut – betrayed the way he was -trying- to hang on, so desperately, like someone dangling from a tree limb for far too long, growing weary, about to make the fall. He wanted to wait for her, wanted to see to it that she got the same pleasure out of this that he did, but as she in her experience likely knew – a man couldn't simply turn it off like an oil lamp...<br><br>At the last second, his hands both released her hair and body, his arms slapping against the mattress to either side of his body as he let out a deep, bellowing groan... all while she rocked and rode him, hips curling, sending him well past that moment he had reached earlier that evening.<br><br>And in that moment, when he felt the familiar and oh-so-sweet rush of warmth down the length of his manhood, the memory of that succubus was all but forgotten, replaced by this. Replaced by -her-.<br><br>He cried out to the gods, intermixed with wordless, guttural groans and cries as he erupted, his body quivering beneath her as if she rose a small boat on white rapids, his hips thrusting up, having no control over her strokes still as she still straddled him, lowering his ass back to the bed, squirming beneath her like an unruly puppy seeking escape.<br><br>Her name was mixed in, as well, to his cries. His head rolled left... right... back and forth in pleasure, as his hands gripped the blanket beneath him with such tension he might have ripped the fabric in places. Lucius shot his essence inside her with impressive force... and as she moved, it just felt like it kept on coming, and coming and coming...<br><br>Only once that initial -power- had faded did he move his hands back to her body – openly and willfully groping, filling his palms with her breasts, squeezing tightly, lewdly, pinching nipples and greedily holding her skin in his hands as if he couldn't get enough.<br><br>“Gods help me...,” he gasped to himself as the later waves began to ebb, even as his cock twitched inside her as if dying a slow death... and as far as deaths went, if this was how he was to go, Lucius couldn't think of a better way....<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>23-02-2015, 23:48:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>This time, there would be no rescue.&nbsp; This time, there would be no reprieve.&nbsp; And this time, at least, they both had some inkling of the magic in the moment they were about to share.&nbsp; It was a bare inkling, but every ritual started with just such an inkling, a building block from which the magic was created.<br><br>Mercy courted the moment as much as she courted Lucius' climax.&nbsp; &nbsp;Every downward plunge over his ramparts, so to speak, was exquisite sensation, every sensory organ distended and gaping, pulsing to take it all in like the tiny mouths of baby birds.&nbsp; Like Lucius before, however, Mercy was focused on giving pleasure more than receiving, of conquering Lucius' defenses and demanding his unconditional surrender.&nbsp; Anything less was simply unacceptable, and, in fact, churlish in the extreme given his generosity thus far.<br><br>Too, like her lover, to please him, to ensure that it would be her to whom his thoughts turned in the wee morning hours, thoughts of her that prompted his hand to mimic the rise and fall of her body upon his shaft when he looked for perfection rather than possibility, was a prize as great or greater than her own release.&nbsp; To drive him beyond control was a pleasure all its own, and one that she would not be denied if it could be won.<br><br>His hand entwined in her hair, lifeline and bonds, the urgent squeeze of his fingers into pliant, firm flesh, the soft rake of her rounded nails, kisses that were urgent despite the starvation for air ... all of it combined into a heady, relentless chase of prey whose endurance was slowly eroding.&nbsp; Yet for all its seriousness, it was play still, and not devoid of affection.&nbsp; Lucius' face was beautiful in passion, earth and fire and life force all blended into a work of art that no canvas, no artist, however skilled, could truly capture in all its luster.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was spiritual, and physical, a commitment to life and its pleasures, the heights and the depths, far more than the physical scratching of an itch -- though their joining certainly served that purpose as well.<br><br>His whisper was surrender, his cry of release victory, and Mercy celebrated both as she drank in the sight, the sound, the scent, and taste of the moment, the smoke from the hearth, the faint chemical scent from the bath, the dampness of his hair where it brushed her fingers as she continued to rock atop him, the feel of his muscles tightening and flexing, and the sweet heat flooding through her as he gifted her with his seed ... the distilled essence of life's possibility.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy's eyes closed, her head tipped back, and her cry of 'Yes!' rang up to the stone of the ceiling, as she raced after him up and across the peak and plunged .... the scrape of her fingers biting into his shoulders in a reflexive claim that said 'mine' ... though she was under no illusions that such a claim was more than momentary.<br><br>His hands on her breasts returned the favor, his grip laying claim and giving appreciation all at once as her movements finally slowed and came to a stop, her body slumped in a moment of blissful relaxation, a moment of triumph and joy all the better for its sharing as equal.&nbsp; She laughed softly as he called upon the deities for help.<br><br>"I do ... have some influence ... in that direction," she teased, her hands slipping to hold flat on his chest as she supported herself on his chiseled frame, when she could again summon breath enough to speak.&nbsp; "What sort of help did you have in mind?&nbsp; Though if you have thoughts of escaping me now,&nbsp; I think you are ... out of luck."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>24-02-2015, 09:12:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius felt that he could be forgiven for unleashing himself inside her scant seconds before she climaxed again. He could be forgiven because he had pleasured her already a few times earlier, and in his eyes, that should gain him -some- form of credit. But he would also argue that the arousal and partial-pleasure he had received at the hands of one of her sisters was -also- a contributing factor that prevented him from holding on for just a -few seconds longer-....<br><br>But the way Mercy reacted, Lucius was fairly certain that she would not hold it against him.<br><br>But those were thoughts for a time when he -could- thing. Right now, the mind-blowing orgasm erased most of his conscuious effort – even when he tried to summon more images or thoughts – it was erased again, the edges of his visions laced with specks of white flickering just out of sight. Even if he moved his eyes to follow them, they would always be one step ahead, just out of sight.<br><br>It had been -powerful-, and it wasn't just because of her perfect flesh, or the expertly administered feminine movements she had delivered to him. It was their banter, their talk, the meshing of their personalities...<br><br>And the interlacing of their hands. That fucking half-demon -bitch-, she knew how to bring out things in him few others did. How... grossly -unfair- of her!<br><br>Hands hands on both her breasts, claiming them as his own – at least, for the duration of their pleasure – matched the grip of her fingers on his shoulders. Their bodies so tightly molded together, buried so deeply within her, hands gripping, bodies damp and pressing, seed filling her and then some... it made for an intimate moment that he quickly burned into his mind for later recollection, which his only lover was one of two hands.<br><br>She slowed, and he whimpered. “No, please... don't fucking stop...,” he whispered, but it was a half-hearted plea, more a testament to what he had enjoyed and what he wanted to experience again, whether than actually demanding that she keep moving -now-, after having fallen from the precipice herself.<br><br>She laughed softly – that laugh that, once again, summoned warm thoughts and fantasies in his mind. Would she laugh like that for him when sharing a personal joke? Would she laugh like that if a pet... or her child... committed some act that deserved it? Or was it simply a laugh for this moment, blissful in the knowledge that she had, indeed, done what her sister could not do?<br><br>She confessed having -some- clout with the gods, and he smirked at that. NO ONE had such a thing, and he knew better. Even priests who professed to perform miracles... he was confessed it was all show, smoke and mirrors, or at the very most, personal skill. Still, he wasn't going to counter Mercy for anything right now. If anything, he'd like a kiss, not a philosophical debate on the heavens.<br><br>“Escaping you?” he echoed, mingling his own laugh with her own. “No. If I could get the god's help... it would be for them to help chain you to my bed, woman....”<br><br>And with a sudden tension, he whirled, spinning her to the side, then onto her back, and in so doing letting his momentum carry him – to plunge fully into her, where he paused.<br><br>“To give me the strength and allure to keep you -wanting- to come to my bed... at least until you grew bored of me,” he suggested, a sly smile on his lips as he lowered them, yes, towards her own.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>25-02-2015, 18:48:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Wanting to come to his bed ... Mercy could have told him that he didn't need help with that, at least not in the allure department.&nbsp; If he needed help with strength and stamina, there were things she could do in that regard as well.&nbsp; None of that needed saying, particularly not when the alternative to talking was another long, sensual kiss.<br><br>It was probably a good thing that Jazelle and Duncan had sought other sleeping accommodations.&nbsp; &nbsp;For Lucius and Mercy, sleep did not seem as important as enjoying each other to the fullest extent possible.&nbsp; &nbsp;Much to her surprise, and delight, that continued to include the easy banter and blunted barbs that had sprinkled their interactions as attraction grew.&nbsp; &nbsp;Physically, they were well-suited, though Mercy privately acknowledged that had she been fully human, she likely would have required assistance to rise from the bed come morning -- though, perhaps, had she not been so equipped, Lucius might have been less determined to prove himself equal to the task of exhausting her.<br><br>Sometime before dawn, sleep claimed them both, still entwined, bodies tangled and pleasantly sore, exhausted but both triumphantly sure that they had exceeded the other's expectations, and, best of all, not at all eager to end their association.&nbsp; It was a state of affairs that met with Mercy's sly approval, and her secret certainty that Lucius was fated to play some grand role in the scheme of things ... a role for which she would provide as much encouragement and support as needed, along with a kick in the pants or other inducements as necessary.<br><br>Duncan's bed had not been broken, but it had not escaped unscathed.&nbsp; Blankets and sheets were askew, pillows were on the floor, wedged into tight spaces, or tossed to the farthest corners, a chair had been toppled and kicked aside, and several other things had been shoved aside to make room for their activities that hadn't been confined to the bed itself.&nbsp; Were it not for the two peacefully sleeping in the bed's center, bodies sideways and half covered, an incautious servant might have come in to the room only to run screaming for the guards, thinking some calamity or attack had taken place.<br><br>However, it was no ordinary servant that entered, but a construct instead, a being formed of dark wood, and draped with a tunic of the royal guard, wearing upon his forehead the charred runic sigil of the court wizard.&nbsp; Several things happened all at once -- the door slammed open, wood striking the stone walls, Mercy's wards guarding against intrusion went off in a flash of sparks and paralyzing bolts of red-tinged energy, Mercy herself woke on cue with Lucius, finding herself propelled upright and at a decidedly uncomfortable angle as his instincts kicked in and he reached in vain for his weapon ... which was in the other room where he'd left it before they made their foray to the baths the previous night. <br><br>They both heard footsteps as they untangled and rose, naked, with streaks of crusted matter on stomachs, thighs, and other salient parts a silent brand as to how they had spent their evening ... the general's enchanted stones providing enough light for sharp eyes to perhaps take note ...&nbsp; The door to the general's sleeping quarters burst open as well, and the wooden golem stomped in and regarded them with an expression that almost seemed puzzled.<br><br>"You will attended His Royal Highness, King Bertrand, and the Wizard Valerian in the wizard's quarters without delay," the construct intoned, appropriately woodenly ... with a note in its voice that suggested that refusal was not an option.<br><br>"Fucking wizards," Mercy muttered as she registered that an attack by demonic or priestly forces was likely NOT imminent, and squinted balefully at the signs of dawn trickling in from the gap in the curtains.&nbsp; "I hate dealing with wizards.&nbsp; No manners, any of them, and no sense of humor."<br><br>She looked around, almost hoping that Duncan or Jazelle would 'poof' back in from wherever they'd gone and order the wizard's servant to come back at a suitably decent hour, but neither obliged.<br><br>"You will attend the Wizard Valerian without delay," the construct repeated.&nbsp; How a creature of wood could convey impatience was beyond Mercy's knowing, but this one did.<br><br>"Go get your sword and chop it into firewood," she suggested dryly to Lucius as she flopped back down onto the bed, face first, and tried to bury her faintly aching head into where the pillow should have been.<br><br><hr><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Duncan woke at dawn, and the opening of his eyes and the first stirring movement roused Jazelle as well.&nbsp; He registered where they were, who he was with, and his hand reached for her, to pull her back down to him in a reflexive action that was not fully supported by the gleam of mischief in his eyes.<br><br><em>"None of that, my general,"</em> Jazelle scolded, though in truth she could hardly think of a better way to spend the morning.&nbsp; <em>"There are things that must be done, and I would see Valeri...mmpgh."</em><br><br>It was fairly difficult to talk sensibly when one was being very thoroughly, and warmly, kissed ... or so she discovered.&nbsp; For a long moment, she did not resist at all but responded with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around him and sliding closer into his warmth.&nbsp; Whether the press of him against her thigh was true arousal or a simple physical response to certain conditions inherent to sleeping and other factors, she was not certain, but she was fairly certain that they could make the uncertainty moot in short order ...<br><br>With a groan of reluctance, Jazelle forced herself to disengage, her form shifting enough to allow her the necessary wiggle room as naked succubus became an equally naked Lady Alerian.&nbsp; Given the seriousness of the attack upon the keep the previous night, she did not wish to depend upon the illusion of clothing, but would dress herself in actual garments ... hopefully after a wash.<br><br>A loud, heavy thumping upon the door seemed to indicate that a leisurely preparation was not in the cards, as an unnaturally monotone voice conveyed an 'invitation'.&nbsp; "The Wizard Valerian requests your presence in his workroom, my lady."&nbsp; Though the voice sounded much the same as the one that had invaded Duncan's chambers, all unknown to Jazelle at the moment, it was much less peremptory and more formal, almost polite.<br><br>Even so, she had the sneaking suspicion that the wizard's servant would be polite only for so long.&nbsp; Valerian was hardly known for his patience.&nbsp; <em>"A few moments while I dress, if you please,"</em> she requested ... a request that she hoped would be honored, for at least there was no negative response.&nbsp; <br><br>There was only one little problem ... Duncan had not been dressed when she had brought him there the night before ... and Lady Alerian's wardrobe did not contain anything even remotely suitable.<br><br>Despite the situation, Jazelle's smile was broad, and full of amusement as she cocked an eyebrow in Duncan's direction.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-02-2015, 08:03:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Lucius and Mercy had made a pretty nice mess of things in Duncan's bedroom. Lucius didn't think this was odd in the slightest, and silently wondered what Mercy would make of it – or if it would even cross her mind. As his eyes flickered open in response to the activation of Mercy's wards, not to mention the door slamming open to Duncan's quarters.<br><br>His hand reached for his weapon beside his bed – which wasn't there, of course, because he had left it in the other room last night. The two of the untangled from one another, rising to their feet quickly. One of the sheets wrapped around Lucius's ankle and seemed determined to trip him up, and almost succeeded.<br><br>The door to the bedroom opened next, and in stepped a wooden golem-like construct that Lucius immediately recognized. It spoke, summoning them to the wizard's tower without delay. Mercy cursed at the wizard in her response, and Lucius nodded in agreement, including her observations about their lack of manners and humor.<br><br>The construct repeated its demand, and Lucius growled. “Alright, alright, we heard you the first time!” he said. “Go back to your master, we shall follow immediately behind you,” he said, glancing over to Mercy for a moment. Minutes ago he had been sleeping comfortably in the warm bed, his face nestled between her breasts. And now, he was cold, hungry, needed to take a piss, AND being summoned to Valerian's tower – and those sorts of summons were -rarely- enjoyable.<br><br>Mercy joked bout chopping it into firewood as she flopped back down onto the bed, face first. Lucius – never one to pass up an opportunity – moved over to where she lay and sidled up behind her, pressing his groin against the backs of her thighs and ass, lowering his abdomen to gently align itself along her back. His hips gave a playful little thrust, though he was obviously not aroused... yet.<br><br>“We can't destroy it,” he said. “Rather, we -could-, but... Duncan and I did that once, when it interrupted our... latest foray,” he said diplomatically. “We were so angry we both hacked at it and destroyed it. But once we were before Valerian and the King, we were summarily dressed-down and scolded, and the cost of the construct was taken from our wages,” he said.<br><br>“Let me just say – those fucking things are -expensive-,” he added with a slight chuckle.<br><br>Then his hips moved again, gently, and she'd feel the faint stirring of his manhood, warm and supple against her soft, smooth woman-flesh. “Mmmmm, maybe it's a good thing we need to go, though... it saves you more suffering...,” he said teasingly, one of his hands moving up to her neck then dragged his nails gently down her back.<br><br>“Come, lover. Let's go get this out of the way. Maybe it will be quick and easy, and you can come back and rest some more.”<br><br>With some exertion of willpower, he eased himself up and off of her, hooking one arm around her waist in an effort to drag her up to her feet, as well.<br><br>Yes... hopefully they could get this over with quickly. <br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan awoke, and quickly the memories of last night came back to his mind as he gained consciousness. Doing so, one of the first sensations he felt, aside from the warmth of Jazelle's body next to him, was the rock-solid heaviness at his groin. With a soft purr his body moved towards her, an arm pulled her closer, and she'd feel the hot length sliding along the outside of her thigh toward her hip.<br><br>She began to deny him, reminding him that there were things to be done – and then his lips were on hers. It was a thorough, warm kiss – and she'd easily recognize it as a kiss meant to stir her own arousal, to lure her into his web. She responded with enthusiasm, and as she moved her hands to wrap around him, he felt it and used his other hand to catch one of hers, and guided it down... down... his hand guiding her to the thick manhood that obviously felt familiar to her by now. His fingers urged hers to wrap around it, to -wield- it like he knew she could, the deeper purr escaping his throat-...<br><br>She groaned and extricated herself, and he half-heartedly resisted, grabbing at her, pulling her, trying to draw her back.<br><br>“Five minutes...,” he whispered. “Please, Jazelle... five minutes....”<br><br>But she knew better. Five would turn to ten, and ten to thirty, and... so on. She shifted, making it even harder for him to keep ahold of her as her body changed shape. A moment later, she escaped his big groping hands as he sighed tragically.<br><br>A sudden, loud thump against the door ended the playful tone, though, as Duncan quickly tossed the sheets aside and rose to his feet. A deep voice spoke outside the door, and Duncan let out a sigh of relief, realizing what it was. He relaxed visibly as they were being summoned.<br><br>Jazelle spoke next, informing the construct that she needed a few moments to prepare. As she began to get dressed with real garments, and not illusionary ones, Duncan glanced around, as if his clothes would appear out of thin air. He then began to calculate the distance from Alerian's quarters to his own. If he was quick, maybe few would see him. Maybe none would.<br><br>Moving to the area where a small washbasin sat, he knelt down, retrieved the largest towel he could find, then stood and wrapped it around his waist, clutching the ends of it together behind his back. <br><br>“I will fetch some proper clothes and meet you at Valerian's, if you wish,” he said to her. His arousal was still a visible lump against the towel, though not as vigorous as it had been when they were lying in bed. He made his way toward the door – and from behind, Jazelle could see that the towel wasn't -quite- big enough, and his buttocks were clearly visible to any who stood directly behind him – a fact he didn't seem to notice.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>26-02-2015, 18:28:23</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Despite Lucius' assurance, the golem didn't move, and the wooden expression on its face only seemed to turn more menacing and less patient, particularly when 'firewood' was mentioned and Lucius went on to describe how he and her mother's lover had destroyed one of the wizard's toys previously.&nbsp; That, and the sudden warmth and weight on her back as she felt Lucius press against her had her reluctantly dragging at least one eye open again.&nbsp; "Ah ... that would probably explain why it's not moving ... and why my wards didn't even singe it.&nbsp; Like I said, no sense of humor.&nbsp; Scratch the 'firewood' comment."<br><br>Though she supposed that she would be equally annoyed if someone destroyed one of her castings.&nbsp; She'd certainly gone out of her way to express her displeasure when one of her god's 'chosen' had stomped all over one of her plots that she'd put a lot of effort into setting up.<br><br>Succubus blood or not, Mercy was not particularly amorous first thing in the morning, particularly when not much time had passed between the last few times.&nbsp; She mostly just grunted when Lucius' disposition seemed to indicate at least a partial victory in their endurance competition.&nbsp; The feel of his hands on her back, particularly the light scratching which she adored under most circumstances, was enough to at least improve her mood enough elicit a partially resigned groan instead of another oath, and she offered no more than token resistance when he pulled her back to her feet.<br><br>"Clothes.&nbsp; I am NOT going anywhere bare-ass naked, even if you offer to carry me again," she grumbled, as she tried to sort thru the mess and figure out where she'd left her clothes.&nbsp; <em>Oh.&nbsp; The baths.</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;Her pack was in the other room, near Lucius' sword.&nbsp; Under the baleful stare of the golem, Mercy made her way out to where she'd dumped her gear, naked entirely save for the red-gold phoenix symbol around her neck.&nbsp; There, she rummaged arround in her pack for a spare shirt, underwear, and pants -- though she paused long enough before getting dressed to pour another shot of the general's good brandy and down that, cocking an eye in Lucius' direction to see if he was a believer in 'hair of the dog'. <br><br>After they met with the wizard, she supposed she'd have to see about replacing at least some of what they'd drunk and restoring order in the general's quarters.&nbsp; It seemed a small price to pay for the loan of his excellent bed, and to keep peace in the family.&nbsp; Even if it was rather fun to act like a rebellious daughter now and again, she had little interest in straining the maternal relationship -- after all, her mother had always been there when she'd REALLY needed her, and that was worth some daughterly-courtesy. <br><br>As to why the wizard would want to see her, she just assumed that the golem had been sent for Lucius -- or her mother had already been in communication.&nbsp; It didn't really matter whether she'd been 'invited' or not, anyway, since she had no intention on missing out on the fun, wizard or no.&nbsp; If the wizard didn't want her there, he should have been a little more careful how he directed his invitations.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle would have liked to spend the morning, or an eternity, in Duncan's arms ... particularly when her touch elicited sounds like the one he made from deep in his chest when she touched him ... even though she hadn't precisely been intending to touch him quite like that initially.&nbsp; Yet her daughter had been spot on when she had shared her opinion that Jazelle had much in common with those who became monks.<br><br>It was not a usual trait in a succubus, and whether it had been some defect in her creation or an artifact of the enchantments that had separated her from the abyss, she did not know.&nbsp; She only dimly remembered what it had felt like to 'feel' differently, to not want to do what it seemed she 'should' do.&nbsp; &nbsp;She wanted nothing more than to please Duncan, and be pleased by him.&nbsp; Given that her hungers did not yet demand otherwise, the need to honor her obligations was stronger, and though she recognized it was not a particularly expected trait, it was hers.&nbsp; Changes in certain of her behaviors were an anathema, a thing not to be sought or allowed save under the gravest of circumstances.<br><br>That did not, however, mean that she insisted on doing everything by hand, and she cheated in several particulars in the dressing, and dressing and arranging her hair.&nbsp; Valerian might well be amused if she delayed for the time to do <strong>all</strong> those things manually, at another time, but if there were serious business afoot ... he would be angry with her, and ... in her view ... rightly view it as unworthy of respect.<br><br>When Duncan said that he would fetch his clothes, she thought about suggesting he give her a moment and she would return him there just as she had brought him ... but then she saw his rather shapely behind protruding from the towel.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jazelle smiled, and considered staying silent for a bare second or two ...&nbsp; <em>"Perhaps a blanket from the bed might provide a more substantial covering, my general?&nbsp; I like the view from here, but so would others."</em><br><br>Others who would find themselves swimming in the moat should they take their admiration from looking to touching, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.<br><br>The separation would give her a moment or two to inform Valerian of her daughter's presence in the keep, and to also perhaps ascertain more of the situation than he might otherwise share.&nbsp; Occasionally, Valerian underestimated her powers of observation and intuition.<br><br>Unlike the golem that had been sent for Duncan, the one that had come to inform Jazelle that her presence was needed did not linger, and was stomping its way implacably back toward the wizard's tower when Duncan opened the door.&nbsp; The other golem, the suspicious golem, remained where it was, watching and waiting as those found in the general's room readied themselves.&nbsp; It, perhaps because of the fate of the less fortunate one that Lucius and Duncan had destroyed, stayed right where it was, almost radiating impatience and perhaps the hope that they would try something similar this time.&nbsp; Golems might lack memory and the ability to hold a grudge, but the same was not necessarily true of their creators.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>05-03-2015, 21:58:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>“You know, I had made a comment to Valerian once... these wood constructs... couldn't he make them feel more like... flesh? And if so, couldn't they be more... feminine shaped? That would make these 'summons' of his far more enjoyable,” Lucius said. “For some reason... the wizard was not amused. His answer had to do with something about necromancy and, well... that's where my interest somewhat dissipated,” he said, glaring over at the wood golem again, as if his words might insult the construct somehow.<br><br>As playful and suggestive as his words, body, and touches were, he wasn't -truly- trying to seduce her into action then and there. He realized there was business to attend to, of course, even if he wasn't aware of her aversion to early-morning hijinx. He would have to find out -that- adorable little detail some other time, likely by having his head snapped off – or perhaps by the application of her claws on his skin in some way that would deliver the message. Either way, at that particular moment, he was content to live in his own little world where he could, if he wished it, seduce her there on the spot... if the didn't have a construct waiting for them.<br><br>Of course, as far as the previous evening went, Lucius was under the impression that they had -both- been 'victorious' in some way, and he didn't think he needed to verbalize that. For some reason, he thought a woman of her talents and experiences would simply 'know'. During a night in which they had both been pleasured – much more than a single time – who could possibly 'lose' in that situation? The neighbors? Poor Duncan and Jazelle for having to seek quieter climes? <br><br>Her skin -did- feel delightful beneath his fingertips, and this position – suggestive animal-like on all-fours – was one of his favorites. But the baleful glare of the construct could not be ignored, which would of course hamper any sort of -performance-. Not to mention, Lucius was beginning to wonder if this construct might have been related to the one Duncan and he had destroyed all those years ago...<br><br>His eyes followed her, though, as Mercy rose to her feet and began the search for her clothing. She was quite enjoyable to watch, especially the say of her hips, the way her ass moved with each step she took... Surely she -had- to be doing it on purpose...<br><br>Lucius was collecting his own clothing when he caught her eying the general's brandy. He watched as she moved over to it, as if drawn in, and poured herself a shot. <br><br>“If won't allow me the pleasure of having a shot of you, dear... then perhaps you might pour me a shot of what you're having?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that the brandy would be, indeed, his second choice, but one that he'd gladly accept. His breeches secured around his waist, he carried his shirt with him over to where she stood. Whether she poured one for him or not, he procured a shot of his own and downed it, as well, with a hearty gasp.<br><br>“Shit,” he cursed as he inhaled sharply. “It always tastes twice as sharp in the morning.”<br><br>He glanced around the general's chambers, surveying the damage... and then Lucius smiled, seeming quite proud of their endeavors. <br><br>Some things never changed.<br><br>Silently, ironically, Lucius figured the golem was really here for Duncan. That was, after all, whose quarters they were in. How else would Valerian know that Mercy and himself occupied the General's quarters now? Unless, of course, the wizard could scrye into the room... which would make the wizard a flaming pervert, in Luciu's eyes... but only because he didn't truly like the man and his pompous, almighty ways. <br><br>Truly, he didn't care if some man watched Lucius get his sex on with a beautiful woman... as long as the voyeur stayed out of the fucking way, of course.<br><br>Lucius set down the empty shot glass, his mind filled with thoughts that weren't so kindly as Mercy's thoughts of refilling partially-emptied brandy bottles or reorganizing the place. <br><br>“I'm ready when you are,” he said, pulling his shirt up and over his head, settling it to some decent degree on his shoulders, strapping on his swordbelt, and finally pulling his hair out from beneath the back of his shirt, letting it flow freely. “We might smell like a night of debauchery, but... it seems like our 'invitation' might be too impatient to allow us a proper bath,” he said.<br><br>“Besides...,” Lucius cocked a grin in Mercy's direction, “I kinda like smelling like you. I kinda like it <em>a lot.</em>...”<br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan made ready to go. Unlike Lucius, Duncan was a rather... prompt individual, for the most part. He had been more like Lucius just a handful of years ago, but pride and responsibility had changed a lot of that along the way. They had a meeting with the wizard. Duncan was eager for it, eager to learn more about the relationship Jazelle had with the wizard, and of course there was he looming threat that hung over the keep, as well. <br><br>His desires, as deep as they were, would simply have to be held in check for a time... though he was quickly beginning to understand the stories of a succubus' powers... his desires for her already burned. Not painfully so, but very, very vividly in his mind.<br><br>The general had the towel wrapped about him, prepared to go, when Jazelle spoke about 'the view'. He turned to look at her, then down at himself, then groaned when he realized what she meant. <br><br>“A blanket... yes... a good idea,” he conceded, and haphazardly discarded the towel and walked over to the bed, pulled up the a sheet and gathered it around his waist. After a moment's primping, it looked almost like the bustle of some sort of dress gathered around his hips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but at least he wasn't advertising any parts of his body in a suggestive way any longer. <br><br>“There. Better,” he said with a nod, and headed for the door. “Do you wish for me to meet you at the Wizard's chambers? You're welcome to accompany me instead if you-....” he paused, then glanced down again. Oh yes, the Lady Alerian following Duncan around 'dressed' as he was would DEFINITELY paint her in a good light. He let out a sigh.<br><br>“I suppose I'll meet you there.”<br><br>Before he opened the door, he paused, and instead approached Lady Alerian. Slowly, he leaned forward, intending to kiss her gently on the lips. Soft. Gentle. Lovingly.<br><br>“Thank you,” he whispered, even though he did not say what for, though there were countless things he -could- be thanking her for, some of them more likely than others. Then with a faint smile he turned and headed for the door – and taking a quick peek each way outside of it, he then slipped like an assassin into the hallway... an assassin dressed in nothing but a rolled-up bed sheet that, Jazelle might notice, STILL offered a very mischievous view of one of his buttocks, IF the view were at the right angle...<br><br>The door to the general's quarters opened, and Duncan marched inside – almost directly into another one of Valerian's golems. <br><br>“Oh, I see, a wake-up call for those keep watch,” he said, loud enough to be heard by anyone in the rest of his various rooms, mainly so that they would know he was there. Duncan was fairly sure that Lucius and Mercy had not been 'keeping watch' much at all the previous night, unless it was on the body of the other. He made his way to his bedroom, tossed aside the sheet, and moved over to his chests in order to dig out some clothes.<br><br>Lucius stepped into the doorway, his thumbs hooked into his belt, that lazy, cheeky smile on his face. He leaned against the door jam, watching Duncan get dressed. “I had... the most -amazing- night,” he said. “You missed out, my old friend.”<br><br>Duncan snorted as he pulled some adequate clothing, neatly folded from various drawers. Then he gave Lucius a sly grin of his own.<br><br>“I fucked a succubus last night until she whimpered my name,” Duncan said, “I seriously doubt I 'missed out' on much,” he said.<br><br>Lucius shook his head. “If you say so, general. But this woman... this... daughter of your lover,” the younger man took in a deep breath. “You simply have to convince her to... keep her daughter her for awhile. Ground her. Something.”<br><br>Duncan snorted as he moved to the bed and set down the bundle of clothes. “Seriously? You want Jazelle to 'ground' her daughter her so that you can try to have another go with her?” <br><br>Lucius shrugged. “Yep.”<br><br>Duncan smiled and shook his head – but upon hearing approaching feet out in the hallway, and seeing Lucius turn a smiling face to greet someone approaching, Duncan grabbed his folded shirt and thrust it in front of him to obscure his privates just as Mercy stepped into view.<br><br>“Good morning, Mercy,” Duncan said politely, then, clearing his throat, he turned to face away from the pair at the door, and continued preparing to get dressed. “Your mother is meeting us at the wizard's chambers. We should leave shortly,” he said, securing his breeches at his hips, then pulling on the shirt he had selected, moving with a quick efficiency.<br><br>“Then, perhaps we can get to the bottom of this, and find out what we can.” He donned his leather boots last, then retrieved his own swordbelt, strapped it around his waist, and motioned toward the door.<br><br>As he and the other two headed out into the hall, his nose twitched. He wasn't sure if Jazelle could cover -her- scent, but the three of them there in his chambers all smelled of one thing...<br><br>A night well-spent.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 20:34:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>The bed sheet was an improvement, if only because the way he held it was more likely to invoke a mothering instinct in any early morning risers (or hilarity).&nbsp; Jazelle did not laugh, though, and her hands slid across his chest and shoulders as their lips touched.&nbsp; It was a farewell, of a sort, as well as a gratitude, and Jazelle was cognizant of both the larger doorway that he had opened, and the compartmentalizing of 'their' time.&nbsp; &nbsp;Despite the (somewhat welcome) intrusion of Lucius and Mercy, and the events in the keep, the previous evening had been their time, and it had been put to good use.<br><br>Their time would come again, but for now they belonged to their duties, though, oddly, his was the more formalized.<br><br><em>"If you have need of me, my general, you have only but to call for me in your thoughts.&nbsp; I will find you."</em>&nbsp; At any other time, she would not have intimated that he could not fend for himself, barely clothed or not.&nbsp; Given the intrusion of the abyss into the keep, however, it seemed appropriate to offer a reminder that their lives were now intertwined. <br><br>When he had departed, with only a last view of his delightful posterior, Jazelle finished making herself ready, and then reached out with her senses for the summoning circle in Valerian's chambers.&nbsp; The shadows in the corner, formed by the ornate privacy screen's blocking of the light from the window, deepened and expanded as she moved into them, and they swallowed her up before retreating.<br><br>When the maid entered to offer morning assistance and to clean, she found only the rumpled bed and Jazelle's discarded gown. &nbsp;"Hmph," the maid thought, torn between disapproval and envy.&nbsp; "These foreign ladies do not waste much time sinking their claws into our men."<br><br>In that, she was correct, as both Jazelle and Mercy had already demonstrated quite emphatically, and thoroughly.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"Flesh golems." &nbsp;Mercy made a face of distaste.&nbsp; "Trust me.&nbsp; Stick to the wooden ones. And for the most part, they don't make detailed faces and bodies on these things for a reason beyond the expense, from what I understand."<br><br>For her part, as they shared yet another drink to strip away the fog that the first half dozen had brought, the harsh taste of the spirits did just what she wanted it to -- it stripped away the taste of fuzz from her palette and burned its way clear down to her stomach, which promptly flared up and settled down as her eyes finally opened all the way.<br><br>It also perked up her senses to alert her to Lucius' proud smile as he surveyed the virtual wreck of the general's quarters.&nbsp; She grinned even as she shook her head and made a token effort to straighten a few things up. Shirt, underwear, socks, pants, and boots went on in that order, and her fingers were enough to mostly coax her tresses into some semblance of discipline.&nbsp; She dressed in short, practiced movements, like someone who'd had almost as much practice as Lucius in putting herself back together after clothes had gone flying to the four corners and then some.<br><br>Lucius' speedy transformation got another smile of approval, and his grin, and his words, drew a much more ready answering response now that she was fully awake.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Well then, we'll have to see what we can do make it happen again, won't we?"&nbsp; She might have said more had the baleful stare of the golem not turned partially her way.&nbsp; "Okay,<strong> okay</strong>, we're hurrying."<br><br>"I'm going to grab my things from the baths - I'll be right back.&nbsp; Don't leave without me."<br><br>Her quick exit robbed her of the amusement of Duncan's entrance, and the fascinating conversation they shared, but she heard their voices when she returned and made her way to the bedroom again without much concern of what she might be interrupting.&nbsp; At this point, she didn't figure there was much need to stand on ceremony, considering. <br><br>"Oops!" she said insincerely as she found Duncan with a shirt held in classic grape-leaf fashion at his groin. &nbsp;"Good morning ... Duncan?.&nbsp; &nbsp;Little suggestion, though -- let's keep the 'daughter' stuff between us for now, okay?&nbsp; I'm not exactly sure what 'Mom' has going on here -- unless you know and care to share?"<br><br>With that, she gave them both equally cocky grins and headed back into the less private part of the general's quarters. &nbsp;"I'll keep the golem company while you finish dressing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Oh, and I'll finish straightening up ... and replacing your brandy ... later.&nbsp; Thanks for the hospitality -- especially the bed."<br>Her light laughter echoed back into the room, though it ceased with a bit of a cough as the golem's lifeless orb-spots fell on hers. &nbsp;"Spoilsport," she groused, heaving a sigh.&nbsp; All the same, she was in good spirits, owing in no small part to having had quite a good night herself, all things considered.<br><br><hr><br>"Good, you're here."&nbsp; Valerian looked as he always did, his gray hair pulled back into a clasp, eyebrows bushy, face lined and weathered but still rugged, like gnarled bark rather than wizened fruit.&nbsp; His robes were heavy, dark blue cloth, almost black, and unadorned, and the dust from the dusty tome he held in his hands somehow refrained from rubbing off on his garments.<br><br>King Bertrand did not look so unflappable, but rather somewhat harried.&nbsp; There was a stain on his doublet, and one of the buttons on his shirt had been fastened in the wrong hole, leaving a gap.&nbsp; &nbsp; The succubus sank down into a small curtsy, not bothering to hide her smile.<br><br>"Do I need to send the surgeons to patch up my general?" Bertrand demanded querulously.&nbsp; "And how much longer does the queen have to entertain the empty-headed harridans?&nbsp; Though I think she's enjoying keeping them distracted more than she ought."<br><br><em>"That depends on whether they have set their sights on someone other than General Vanzelle, your highness, though if it is too much of an inconvenience, I would be glad to redirect them myself.&nbsp; If a swim in the moat is not sufficient, it would only increase your prestige if its waters become more of a deterrent to intruders or ... those taking a midnight dip." </em> Jazelle's tone was pleasant and reasonable, though outwardly unassuming. <em> "Duncan is quite well, judging from what your summons interrupted.&nbsp; I am somewhat amazed by his stamina."</em><br><br>"Ah."&nbsp; Bertrand relaxed somewhat, and looked away, though he refrained from asking further. &nbsp;"Good.&nbsp; Then he will be joining us?"<br><br><em>"Yes.&nbsp; And there will be two others joining us as well, with your permission, your highness?"</em>&nbsp; It was, she thought, polite to ask rather than inform, though she didn't intend to accept a refusal.<br><br>"The insolent pup, no doubt, is the first," Valerian interjected, scowling.&nbsp; "Who is the other?"<br><br><em>"My daughter, Mercy."</em><br><br><strong>"Your ..."</strong><br><br>Jazelle inclined her head, graciously, at the dual, synchronized exclamations of surprise. <em>&nbsp; "Yes.&nbsp; I believe that our interests may align, given the events of last night.&nbsp; &nbsp;She is a priestess of Phaenix, and if her god has drawn her here, then I believe it supports Valerian's fears that your kingdom is destined to be part of tomorrow's history, Bertrand."</em><br><br>The king looked both confused and dismayed, but the wizard's showed both understanding, and a grim kind of resignation.<br><br>Jazelle told both men what she knew -- or at least what she believed to directly concern their shared interests.&nbsp; There were portions of her own business that did not concern them that she omitted, and Mercy's story was her own to tell if she wished.&nbsp; Her daughter's interest in such a volatile deity was understandable, given her past, but Jazelle found it best to limit her own meddling in such things.<br><br>She had only started answering their questions when the door slammed open and the first of Valerian's golems entered and stalked to its corner.&nbsp; The king shuddered, got up, and started to close the door.<br><br>"They're here," he stated in a tone more of resignation than enthusiasm, and returned the door to its mostly open state, like a page rather than a king.&nbsp; His face seemed to indicate he might well prefer that role could he find some page silly enough to make the exchange -- at least at the moment. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 12:42:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Jazelle's last words to him echoed in his mind as Duncan marched quickly down the cold, smooth floored hallway. If he had need of her, all he needed to do was call her in his thoughts, and she would find him...<br><br>How could he -stop- thinking about her, and resist the urge to call upon her? She had been created to -haunt- men's minds, and that was evident from the first night he met her – he had scarcely been able to resist thinking about her ever since. He took a deep breath as he walked, realizing that he would need to expend some amount of willpower to resist the urge to call upon her frequently... She had things to do, herself. <br><br>Her offer had not offended him in the least. Instead... it had aroused him. What man would not wish for the power to summon a beautiful woman with a mere thought? He was fortunate, lucky, blessed – whatever adjective one might ascribe to someone in his position. With her ability to appear as -any- woman, able to change features on a whim, he could imagine how most men would have her take a new form every night, pleasuring them as if they owned their own personal harem.<br><br>For Duncan's part... he could not stop thinking about the exotic creature her true form really was. From her alabaster skin to her silken white hair, from her horns to her curvaceous body... and of course, thinking of her tongue sent a shiver down his spine that almost made him loose hold of the sheet he held wrapped around his body....<br><br>Some, knowing what Jazelle truly was, might accuse him of being cursed... And if that were true, Duncan had decided that there was nothing better than suffering such a thing.<br><br>Soon, he was back in his chambers, dressed, and prepared to venture forth to the wizard's quarters. Mercy had excused herself for a moment, but upon her return, Duncan had made sure to at least attempt to be modest – which only made Lucius cock an eye. Never before had he seen Duncan so -particular- over who saw him nude.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>At Mercy's suggestion of keeping the 'daughter' stuff between them, she also admitted not knowing what 'mom' had going on here, and suggested he share with her if he knew. Duncan gave her a long look for a moment... what -could- he say? Mercy, knowing what her mother was, probably suspected that 'mother' had reeled in yet another man who pined for her, whom her mother would simply toy with until she grew bored. Granted, Mercy didn't know about the game of chance that Jazelle had played with him – and lost, and she didn't -need- to know.<br><br>Duncan simply shrugged. “I feel very... attached... to your mother. For now, she seems content with me,” he said about as plainly and vaguely as he could. “Anything beyond that... she would need to explain to you herself,” he said, and then set about modestly getting dressed.<br><br>Mercy seemed content with that as she turned on her heel and headed out, expressing her plan to keep the golem company and straightening up a little. Duncan still had a hard time believing the mess he saw was from the two of them alone. He had wondered if perhaps Lucius had invited a few 'friends' over to join them, from the extent of the mess. When Mercy mentioned replacing the missing brandy, Duncan shook his head even though she couldn't see him now, yet he called out to her all the same. “No need. I have plenty more where that came from. As long as you and Lucius had a good time,” he said.<br><br>Lucius, standing not far away, simply plastered a big grin to his face and nodded his head emphatically.<br><br>Minutes later, they were all three ready to depart, and the walk to the wizard's home was not a long one. Few people made this walk, since few people were either brave enough (or stupid enough) to do it. Valerian was notorious for being grumpy towards uninvited guests – Duncan and Lucius both had heard tales galore about how he welcomes unsolicited visitors, usually frightening them away in some glorious expression of power and magic. But with the golem returning with them, Duncan doubted that this would be one of those occasions. They would be expected. <br><br>Lucius walked beside Mercy, but did not crowd her. He knew he felt a budding attachment to her, and despite her gentle suggestive thoughts about 'continuing' their getting-to-know-each-other as well as her agreement to model for a painting for him, he knew that she truly owed him nothing, not the least of which was loyalty. He silently hoped that she might stick around, but he wasn't going to count on that. She had arrived yesterday, and could be gone today. From the sound of it, she followed the whim of her deity, and as Lucius had been reminded by the priests here in their own kingdom, the whims of the gods changed like the winds, and could blow in the opposite direction in the span of a heartbeat.<br><br>&nbsp;Duncan walked beside the two of them, partly trying to give them space while not putting so much space between them it would appear that he was -avoiding- them by any means. It was... interesting... seeing Lucius act so different around this woman. Of course, to Duncan, it made sense – Mercy had her mother's blood in her veins, so the fact that Lucius seemed so attracted to her didn't surprise him at all. Still... it felt... odd... his lover's daughter fucking his closest friend... <br><br>Shaking his head, they arrived at Valerian's domain and followed the golem inside. Duncan was not surprised to see the King standing there by the door, as if he had opened it for them. Duncan quickly bowed.<br><br>“Good morning, your highness,” he said, and Lucius was quick to copy the gesture as well.<br><br>Bertrand grunted, not entirely sure if this was a good morning yet or not. When Duncan rose, he looked at his King for a moment to make sure all was well, then turned his eyes towards the wizard. “Valerian,” he said in a calm voice, nodding his head toward the wizard. Then he turned his gaze towards Jazelle... and started at her for a long moment, as if he hadn't seen her in weeks.<br><br>Lucius rose from his bow to the King as well, then turned his attention to Valerian. “Morning, firecracker.”<br><br>Valerian frowned. He obviously did not approve of the nickname.<br><br>“So... what's all this about?” Lucius asked, clapping his hands together once, glancing around the room with a big grin on his face, eager to get down to business. “Don't everyone speak at once.”<br><br>Duncan patiently waited. If they were summoned, then he was sure there was a good reason for it, especially with the King himself present, as well...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>16-03-2015, 20:43:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy was all business on the trek to the wizard's lodgings, though not knowing where exactly that was allowed her to lag behind now and then and enjoy the view.&nbsp; Duncan's response to her invitation to share her mother's purpose here had been quite cute -- she hadn't been referring to 'that' part of her mother's business.&nbsp; Jazelle was a succubus, so 'that' was pretty much taken for granted that no matter what else she was doing.&nbsp; So ... either Duncan was discrete or he didn't know, so she'd wait and see, and try to get it out of Jazelle later if all else failed.<br><br>The refusal of her offer to replace his brandy and clean up was a nice touch -- a little mark of class that meant it had to be repaid in kind.&nbsp; The way things were shaping up, at least, she'd have time to arrange something.<br><br>She was fairly well oblivious to either man's vague, unvocalized feelings and questions about her presence.&nbsp; Her own thought was that Phaenix had brought her here for a reason, and ... given her god's interest in warriors, they both were good candidates to figure into that reason.&nbsp; Any day she could combine business and pleasure was a good day in her book, and mixing that with getting a chance to spit in the eye of The Lady's corrupt priests, and things just didn't get much better.<br><br><br>At the wizard's quarters, the golem didn't wait for a knock, but rather opened the door ... loudly ... and entered, joining its fellow in silent, vaguely discontent, guard.&nbsp; Mercy, who entered last, pulled the door to behind them, much more gently than it had been opened.<br><br>"Good morning, Duncan.&nbsp; Lucius."&nbsp; Bertrand returned the greeting courteously, inclining his head.&nbsp; His hand twiddled at his short beard, one of the things he was prone to do when he was nervous or uncertain -- at least in private.&nbsp; It was no longer a 'tell' in his more public appearances, though there had been a time when he'd used it to his advantage and a troublesome lord or merchant's dismay.<br><br>He then turned his attention to Mercy, who also bowed, as few things looked more ridiculous than trying the curtsy obeisance without skirts.&nbsp; His eyebrows lifted, and he looked between the succubus and the woman that she'd identified as her daughter.&nbsp; Of course, he knew that Jazelle could take other forms, but he truthfully preferred not to think too much about that -- he preferred her in the guise that she had come to him in the first time, or as 'Lady Alerian' which were pretty much two sides of the same coin.<br><br>"Your daughter is lovely, Jazelle, and I likely need not say that the two of you are representations of ageless beauty." &nbsp;Jazelle inclined her head, giving the king a small smile, while Mercy looked more as if she wanted to grimace, though was too polite to do so.<br><em><br>"<strong>Must</strong> you?"</em> Valerian intoned with a disapproving glance in Lucius' direction at the use of his hated nickname, then sighed.&nbsp; What he had hoped would be a sensible, matter of fact sharing of facts was quickly turning into one of the court's involved farces, which he detested this early in the morning ... and particularly before he'd had a few cups of very good wine to smooth out the rougher edges.<br><br><em>"Your Majesty, if I have your permission?" </em><br><br>The king nodded, and moved to one of the vacant chairs and settled himself into it.&nbsp; He did not look particularly happy, but nor did he fidget and make faces.&nbsp; Bertrand had made a lot of improvements over the last couple of years, finally growing into his role in a manner that his father would have been ... more or less ... proud to see.&nbsp; He looked kingly, and he now carried it off with his manner more than with a handful of hours of preparation by his valets.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Jazelle gracefully moved past his seat, and came to stand near Duncan, though she did not reach out for him.&nbsp; It was not an obvious declaration of alliances, by any means, but it certainly carried that feel about it.&nbsp; Bertrand noted it, and smiled a little to himself, even making a miniscule nod.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy noticed it as well, but filed it away for later, as it was family business and that didn't get discussed in front of just anyone, king, wizard, or exalted title notwithstanding.<br><em><br>"For some time, I have been aware of the interest of the ... abyss ... centered on our little kingdom," </em>Valerian ominously held forth, causing Bertrand to purse his lips and close his eyes in disapproval.<br><br>The wizard took note of that, and his manner shifted.&nbsp; That, too, was a mark of the improving relationship between the wizard and the king, something that had been very strained in the early days of his reign.<br><br><em>"Demonology is, as you perhaps know, an interest of mine -- not, Lucius -- before you start -- the summoning of such creatures to carry out my bidding.&nbsp; My interest is much more cerebral, seeking to understand what motivates such creatures, what drives them ... what their weakness are and how they can be countered when they enter our realm.&nbsp; Others are not so well intentioned in their dealings ... and it is my fear that such a one, or likely a conspiracy of several working together ... have begun negotiating with certain of the demon lords to further their power, and to drag our armies into a war with our neighbors that would be both damaging and ill-advised."</em><br><br>Mercy went still as the wizard spoke, as she remembered the things that she had seen in the lower levels of the keep.&nbsp; Could it be that king and the wizard were unaware of the nest of vipers that they harbored beneath the stones?&nbsp; Of course it could ... humans put such trust in their priests, often discounting the evidence of their own senses.&nbsp; If priests could not be trusted, then who could? <br><em><br>"To that event, I consulted Jazelle, who is ... as I believe you are now aware ... a rather singular demon, one who has been severed of her innate connection to the lower planes by a concerted effort of magic. It was she who recognized and made me aware of a subtle, and very dangerous, working that had been introduced into the very making of King Bertrand's crown, allowing me to nullify it and free him, and thus our kingdom, of its influence.&nbsp; While this has been a boon for our side, I am afraid that it has caused our enemies to step up the pace of their plans, and I fear that last night's intrusion was only the first."</em><br><br>The wizard paced back and forth along his table, too intent, it seemed to stand still.&nbsp; His hands, aged hands with long, supple fingers, played with various decanters, vials, bottles and books as he progressed up and down, occasionally pausing to fix one or another of his audience with a look beneath bristly gray brows.<br><br><em>"Unfortunately, we have not been able to identify all the traitors in our midst.&nbsp; We have our eyes on certain of their tools ... a few rogue priests, a member of the king's guard, an assassin who graces our court in the guise of a diplomat seeking alliance ... but those whom we know certainly do not encompass the entirity of the conspiracy, or even the head of the snake.&nbsp; I do apologize, General Vanzelle, for not alerting you to the magnitude of the threat, but given that we have only recently discovered whom among the guard is no longer loyal, we deemed it unwise ... before we were certain ..."</em><br><br>"It was <strong>my </strong>decision, General," King Bertrand said firmly, his chin lifting as he accepted responsibility for not confiding in his adviser.&nbsp; "I did not doubt you, but those under you.&nbsp; I also knew that if we told you, you would not rest until you had ferreted the traitors out, and I was not sure your methods would be subtle enough to leave them of use to us.&nbsp; You have been growing ... increasingly regimental in your thinking, or so it seemed to me, and I needed heads attached until the proper time to remove them with due pomp and ceremony."<br><br>Bertrand smoothed his beard a bit once more, and looked between Duncan and Jazelle again, his small smile growing.&nbsp; "I hope that you will forgive me for the method of introduction to the 'former demon' in our ranks.&nbsp; I wished for you to have something other than just my word or Valerian's that she could be trusted, and perhaps my ... sense of mischief ... got the best of me.&nbsp; I did not expect for things to take such a serious turn, though I should have expected that if there were a way to complicate things beyond all sense, you would find it."<br><br><em>"Your Majesty, be nice," </em>Jazelle interjected reprovingly.&nbsp; <em>"General Vanzelle did not once waver from his loyalty to you, or to the responsibilities he bears on your behalf."</em><br><br>"Of course he did not.&nbsp; I did not expect him to - <strong>he</strong> has my complete confidence," The king's tone was one of certainty, with a bit of gracious (and faintly nervous) apology, as was the gentle smile he directed to his general.&nbsp; "Even if I do not always fully trust those whom he does ... until they have shown me their worth."<br><br>He did not look at Lucius as he said that, though Mercy observed that he was almost TOO pointedly NOT looking in Duncan's second's direction.<br><br>Mercy grinned, and settled back to enjoy the show.&nbsp; There seemed no need for her to offer anything just yet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>17-03-2015, 10:25:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Pleasantries were shared and traded, and to Lucius, hearing the King heap praise upon the beauty of both women reminded him, somehow, of a pervert who wanted to touch little girls. Of course, in this instance, neither Jazelle nor Mercy were 'little girls'. For his part, Duncan was simply a little surprised by the King's compliment. Duncan knew it wasn't often that his liege spoke thusly.<br><br>The wizard definitely did not like Lucius's nickname. For his part, Lucius gave an innocent look towards those gathered there, as if he had been accused of butchering a village of disadvantaged youths. The nickname was fairly common because of Valerian's past willingness to use his magic for spectacles of grandeur during holidays and special events. <br><br>He rarely did such things anymore, and Lucius simply wrote it off as excess grumpiness.<br><br>Valerian eagerly moved them on past greetings and such by asking the King his permission to begin, and upon being granted said permission, he began to speak as Jazelle moved over to stand near Duncan. Lucius was -certain- the two of them were going to at least make-out in front of them all, and the warrior was more than ready to watch them go at it full-bore if it came down to it – but his simple thoughts were denied as Jazelle simply came to a halt near Duncan as Valerian began to speak.<br><br>The wizard admitting that he was aware for 'some time' that the abyss had centered its attention on the kingdom took both Duncan and Lucius by surprise. Most people didn't even -believe- in such things. Duncan, for obvious reasons, most certainly believed now. Lucius, too, was a recent convert, since the mother of the woman he wanted to repeatedly fuck was the very same denizen of the abyss that Duncan was dipping into on a regular basis now. <br><br>How... coincidental.<br><br>Valerian droned on, and both men listened for once to what the wizard had to say. Hearing the wizard's suspicions definitely took on an ominous tone, but they had little reason to disbelieve the wizard so far, and if Jazelle was here to support such news, then both the general and his second knew that the situation had to be serious – and perhaps dire.<br><br>Then Valerian described the crown's physical control or influence that it was exerting over the King. Duncan nodded in understanding, while Lucius blinked – he KNEW that the King had been a bigger ass than usual the past few months! Perhaps it was due to this wicked magic that had been cast upon the King.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Valerian went on, making it clear that not 'all' of the traitors had been found and disposed of. There were likely still others out there, and how many there were was too much of an unknown. And then Valerian was apologizing to Duncan for not notifying him of all of this sooner. To him – and to Lucius – it meant that both the general and his second had, at least at one point, been considered 'suspects', or at the very least their loyalty was held in doubt.<br><br>Before either man could speak up, though, the King spoke, taking responsibility for the secrecy that had excluded Duncan and Lucius. Bertrand even went so far to explain -why- he had done it, and though both men understood it, Duncan especially felt... betrayed to some small degree. He had done nothing since his sixteenth name day except -bleed- for Bertrand. He had forgone a normal life, a wife, children... all to pursue his career to provide Bertrand with the best war machine – and guidance – possible. To find out that he had been excluded out of hand was quite... shocking, to say the very least.<br><br>The King's assumptions might have been correct, as well. It -was- possible that Duncan would have done exactly what the King described, until every traitor's head was separated from their traitorous shoulders. Duncan was still processing it all when Bertrand turned his attention to Jazelle, and began to speak about the method of introducing Jazelle to him. It was the King's sense of mischief, from his own lips, yet the King expressed that he should have expected Duncan to -find- a way to complicate things if it was possible. The King had sent him a device that would allow Duncan the opportunity to speak to a succubus – and a -reformed- one at that... and Bertrand did not expect Duncan to do everything he could to seduce this creature? I don't know... perhaps Bertrand was underestimating him.<br><br>Before Duncan could speak, Jazelle raised her voice, and all eyes turned to her. She promised that Duncan had not once wavered from his loyalty to the crown. And looking at her, now, Duncan couldn't help but wonder if... if all of 'this' between them, had simply been some sort of... preparation for what was coming. Did she -feel- anything for him?<br><br>The King's response was gracious, assuring those gathered that he hadn't doubted Duncan's loyalty for a second. <br><br>“Your words are too kind, your majesty,” Duncan said. “And appreciated. But I do have to wonder... what is our -next- step?” he asked, turning his gaze toward Valerian. “I assume you have some idea what to do next, being the Demonologist amongst us?” he asked. “Since I am told I must leave heads attached to shoulders... What is our plan to catch these traitors? <br><br>“I say we get to finding evil and removing some heads anyway, with or without the church's support,” Lucius interjected, then glanced over at Mercy. “Of course, that doesn't mean these traitors will be easy to find... but I also can't help but wonder what a 'Demon Prince' would want with a small part of the world where we suddenly draw their attention,” he mused to himself.<br><br>Duncan pondered for a moment, remaining quiet for now. It was a lot to take in, but he also knew they didn't have all the time in the world, either....
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-03-2015, 21:46:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"If it is any comfort, General Vanzelle, you were not the only one excluded from this knowledge.&nbsp; You are, in fact, part of a very select group that possess it even now.&nbsp; The queen, Father Denoir ... the king's confessor ... " </em> he offered the extra bit of information for both Mercy and Lucius, the former because she was new to the keep, and Lucius because his grasp of anything religious seemed to be rather negligible unless it was a priestess' robes ... <em>"and those now in this room.&nbsp; Had circumstances not made it prudent, there would be two less privy to the knowledge, and I, for one, am not convinced that we have made a wise decision in revealing our hand ..."</em><br><br>Jazelle's expression turned somewhat flinty, and she treated the wizard to a level look that spoke of at least some anger, but Valerian didn't so much as falter, and he did not apologize.<br><br>King Bertrand, however, did.<br><br>"That was my decision as well.&nbsp; The time of secrecy has, I hope, allowed us some time to gather our resources and begin to prepare our defenses.&nbsp; We have also bolstered something of a plan, though I wished to have you, Duncan, discuss it with both Jazelle and Valerian in depth ... and Lucius and ... uh ... Mercy ... as well, should you deem it useful.&nbsp; And then, this very evening, we will begin cleansing our halls of the traitors in our midst, and hobbling the resources of those we have not yet identified.&nbsp; We cannot wait longer to begin, given the intrusion into our very walls.&nbsp; At least, Valerian assures me that they did not find what they were seeking, which is both reassuring and alarming, all at once."<br><br>Valerian inclined his head at Duncan's question.&nbsp; <em>"Some.&nbsp; I have prepared a place of holding for those we imprison where they will be denied access to both the magicks at their command and the succor of their co-conspirators.&nbsp; Those whose cooperation has been gained by magical means will, I believe, be freed of this diabolical influence, just as we were able to break the spell upon our king.&nbsp; Those who have joined forces with our enemies of their own free will ... we will take from them the information we need and then turn them over to you, General Vanzelle, for disposition.&nbsp; We will then use what we find to mount a strong, adamant defense or an attack as is warranted or possible."</em><br><br>Bertrand didn't look especially happy or confident in the wizard's assessment.&nbsp; He looked mostly resigned, and as if he were wishing he were any place other than here.<br><br><em>"Unfortunately, I have not yet been able to determine what the demons were looking for, though I am still pursuing the investigation."</em><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>"I might be able to shed a little light on that subject," Mercy offered with a pleasant, rather self-effacing smile.&nbsp; "As I am certain now that I have been sent here because we share a complementary purpose."<br><br>The wizard stopped, looked for a long moment at Mercy, and then at Jazelle, who only returned the look with one of serene unconcern. <br><br>The demoness was well aware that Duncan, for all his showing of bravado and confidence, was not as secure in himself as he was in his purpose.&nbsp; Though he had not said it, she knew that he would be questioning her part in this, and whether she had agreed to his wager only to exert further influence on him rather than her own designs.&nbsp; Yet, she was a demoness, albeit a demoness operating under a unique set of technicalities.&nbsp; His doubt was neither unexpected or surprising, though the strength of her regret of it was somewhat ... greater ... than she had thought it would be.<br><br>But now was not the time for that.&nbsp; &nbsp;Now, it was simply time to hope that roots she had laid down when she possessed, but did not use, the power to compel him would be strong enough to spread trunk, bow and branch, and bear fruit that would, in time, ripen.<br><br><em>"Pardon me, my lady Mercy, but while I am aware of your mother's history, I am very much in the dark of your own.&nbsp; While I do not doubt you, could you please elaborate on ... your credentials ... so that we have a better understanding of where our interests coincide?" </em> Valerian's words weren't hostile or disbelieving, and Mercy, at least, got the feeling the the old wizard knew more than he was letting on ... as if he were asking for confirmation of his suspicions rather than wandering in the shadows, as he intimated.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Without changing expression, Mercy reached up to her collar, and popped open the first three buttons on her shirt, revealing a good deal of cleavage ... as well as her phoenix holy symbol upon its thick, gold chain.<br><br>Valerian smiled, faintly, and nodded once.<br><br>The king stared ... and stared again ... and then murmured ... "Oh, dear."<br><br>"They're looking for an artifact ... a creation of a wizard who was brilliant, very susceptible to flattery and the lead of his loins, and, by the end of his life, I suspect ... quite, quite mad.&nbsp; &nbsp; The artifact I speak of is one that would, I believe, allow a demon lord to move in this world undetected, and quite beyond the reach of those who would send him back to the abyss.&nbsp; &nbsp;Should it come into the possession of such a creature, this small kingdom would likely become the literal gateway to hell.&nbsp; &nbsp;And I have reason to believe that this demon was made aware of the existence of this artifact by the priests who have secreted themselves away in the lowest reaches of your keep.&nbsp; I would wager a considerable sum that you will find your summoner among their ranks."<br><br>With Lucius' leave, Mercy went on to describe how they had met, and included the fact that the succubus had targeted Lucius specifically and how they had, together, dispatched her back to the abyss.<br><br>The king looked increasingly horrified, if slightly fascinated despite himself, and even a little impressed as he looked between Lucius and Mercy.<br><br>Valerian only looked skeptical.&nbsp; <em>"And why would they want Lucius?"</em><br><br>Mercy cocked her head, lifted an eyebrow, and turned her head to Lucius, offering him the chance to reveal that information.&nbsp; She rather thought he might enjoy saying it himself rather than being 'outed', so to speak.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-03-2015, 10:07:23</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan did not seem overly mollified by the notion that he was part of an exclusive group of people aware of what was going on now. He should have been told straight away, but he hadn't been. The King's reasons were... questionable, but now was not the time for that debate – or argument. It struck him hard that Bertrand had chosen not to involve him – for -any- reason. But Duncan wore a neutral mask, focusing his mind on the task, despite what wounded pride&nbsp; might make him feel in the background. <br><br>What's more, he couldn't help but wonder what Jazelle's part was in all of this, at least, her -true- part. She had obviously been involved with Valerian before Duncan had ever donned the collar. Had it all been one big plan to lure him in and keep him from the truth? How much of that truth was she keeping from him even now? Had she accepted his wager only as a means to further 'guide' or control his actions? His understanding of her nature warred furiously with his desire to -believe- in her...<br><br>Duncan focused, hearing Valerian's displeasure at having a couple extra people in the know, and he suspected it was Mercy and Lucius to whom he was referring. For his part, Duncan was surprised Lucius hadn't fallen asleep already – this sort of thing never seemed to be up his alley. But Lucius was attentive and aware... and, not surprisingly, standing as near to Mercy as he could be without being distasteful in the King's presence.<br><br>When Bertrand spoke, he spoke of a plan – a plan that did not involve Duncan's input. The sting persisted, but Duncan tried his best to look past his misgivings. But now, the King seemed eager for input from the four of them, sharing his plan to 'cleanse' the keep later that day, in the evening, removing all the traitors at once. The King also shared Valerian's belief that the intruders had not found whatever it was they sought.<br><br>Valerian discussed his thoughts on capturing the conspirators, and how to determine if they were working against their will, or willing participants of whatever infernal plot had been hatched here. Duncan noted that the King did not seem overly pleased with Valerian's assessment. <br><br>When the subject of the demon's search was brought up, Mercy actually stepped forth, surprising Duncan. Lucius already had an idea, since their pillow talk had involved some of it (though, in truth, he had been drunk on her beauty at the time and was glad that she was offering him a chance to listen again). <br><br>In response to Mercy's offer to share her own thoughts on the matter of the goals that the intruders might have, Valerian demanded – politely – that Mercy provide some sort of evidence that she could be trusted, or at least some sort of evidence that would allow the others to believe that she had a common goal with them as she had mentioned.<br><br>Mercy reached up to her collar and began to unbutton her shirt... and suddenly, Lucius was not so half-asleep any longer. <br><br>“Finally,” Lucius muttered. “This meeting is getting... interesting”. His eyes glued to her cleavage, roaming curves that his lips had explored thoroughly the night before, he was suddenly certain that he had 'missed some spots' and would need to rectify that in the near future.<br><br>The others, of course, were observing her holy symbol, as if that alone explained everything.<br><br>Valerian smiled.<br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div><br>The King murmured. <br><br>Lucius stared.<br><br>Duncan glanced at Jazelle for a moment then back to Mercy as she began to speak. She explained her beliefs, and described an artifact that she believed the enemy was seeking. Things took a serious turn when she suggested that their kingdom could become a 'gateway to hell'... which obviously no one in the kingdom would welcome or desire.<br><br>Then Mercy went on with more detail, explaining how she and Lucius had met. Lucius seemed proud of the way she described it, yet his eyes narrowed when she conveniently left out the part about his prized painting having been destroyed. The important thing was he had been targeted, and Mercy had been there to save him.<br><br>Bertrand looked horrified. For a moment, Lucius wondered if the King was simply jealous that Lucius was able to bed two demons in one night – or, a demon and a half-demon. For a brief moment, Lucius wondered if any other mortal in the history of all time had accomplished such a feat. But back in the present, Lucius doubted the King envied him – the Queen, afterall, was pleasing to the eye. Why would Bertrand lust for a demoness, or even a half-demoness?<br><br>Glancing between the two stunningly beautiful women, Lucius suddenly felt silly for even asking himself that question.<br><br>After Valerian asked his question, there was a brief moment of silence, as if Lucius hadn't even heard the question. Then, quickly, he blinked and raised his eyes from Mercy's cleavage, and glanced around. <br><br>“Oh... yes.... the artifact,” he said. “Supposedly it is a weapon, a sword, that belonged to my family bloodline, and if wielded by one of my family's blood, it grants... special powers and such, supposedly. During it's creation it is said that it was bathed in hydra blood and blessed by an angel, etc, etc, etc,” he said, “But it's just a story, really, and the sword is just a sword. One of my relatives – my uncle, I believe – delivered it to the church years ago for 'safe keeping'. I have not seen it since,” he admitted with a shrug.<br><br>Though the idea that his family – or, -he- could somehow be 'important', Lucius was obviously not putting any faith in that, despite Mercy's assertions. If Mercy wanted to think he was somehow 'special', he was fine with that – especially if it made her amorous toward him. He'd nod his head and admit he was the son of the gods himself if it meant her taking her clothes off and riding him like a wild stallion. <br><br>“There must be some way to confirm this information,” Duncan said, having taken Mercy's words quite seriously. “And, if any of it is true... that means you could be in danger yourself, Lucius,” he said. “Perhaps the succubus you and Mercy defeated was there to seduce you and... fuck you... into her charms.”<br><br>Lucius snorted and laughed loudly. “Dun-... General,” he quickly corrected, “That is the most ridiculous think I have ever heard. It's -me- you're talking about. I can be lured to bed, but -seduced- simply by having sex with a demon? Not going to happen,” he said with a confident grin. Then he glanced sideways at Mercy for a moment and blinked.<br><br>“Oh... yeah.”<br><br>Duncan smirked at his friend and comrade, then turned his eye towards Valerian. “We have a lead. Mercy's information sounds reasonable, and even if you do not agree, it's the only -real- lead we have. If the story is true, this weapon... it should have -some- sort of magical aura about it... and if it's still here somewhere, can you located it?”<br><br>All eyes turned to Valerian as he slowly nodded. <br><br>“Good. You should make your preparations to determine the blade's location. Then, Lucius and I will retrieve it,” he said. He turned his gaze to Jazelle and Mercy in turn. “You two should remain here. If we encounter demonic resistance, I don't want to risk that they might have some ability to affect your judgment, especially if we meet one of higher 'power',” he said. “And... to keep you safe,” he said, turning his eyes to Jazelle.<br><br>Lucius whistled low and soft for a moment, hearing Duncan just try to sideline the two women – DEMON women – by playing the 'chivalry' card. Lucius could have predicted it – especially knowing that Duncan was attached to Jazelle as badly as he was, but even Mercy – Duncan had tried to protect her as if she were simply some child that needed protecting.<br><br>“I don't think that's gonna go over very well, boss...,” Lucius muttered, curious to see how Mercy and Jazelle responded.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>22-03-2015, 22:39:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>The looks exchanged between the king and his wizard might have indicated, to those attuned to such things, that they were somewhat surprised at the calm way the general received what could certainly be perceived as a lack of trust.&nbsp; Valerian's surprise was just that, and there was nothing of apology or regret in his steady gaze.&nbsp; The king, however, was clearly less comfortable with the actions taken, though further apology was limited to that in his eyes.<br><br>Jazelle's visage, and her demeanor, was more in line with Lucas', but for different reasons.&nbsp; The nuances of the relationships between those gathered there were of lesser import than the facts that she had garnered.&nbsp; The king both liked and trusted his general, and respected his skills in terms of warfare, his army, and even in battlefield diplomacy.&nbsp; Valerian did not especially like the general, and thought him inflexible and set in his ways, but he respected his honor and skill.&nbsp; As for Lucius, Mercy rather thought that the king was far more lenient in his assessment, but preferred Duncan's second remain on a short leash for all his amusement potential.&nbsp; Valerian was not even slightly amused by Lucius' antics or his attitude, but did, the succubus thought, have respect for his skills as a warrior; he trusted his intent, but not his judgement.<br><br>Lucius was simply mostly bored, and was paying more attention to the rise and fall of her daughter's chest and the curve of her backside than absorbing the full import of the discussion.<br><br>Mercy's interjection did not surprise her in the least.&nbsp; Though religion was not of great interest to Jazelle, save for certain facets of it, she understood why the deity her daughter followed would be interested in a potential hellsgate, particularly if, as Mercy suggested, some collusion between priests of the light and the abyss existed. <br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"I spent a good part of the day yesterday crawling through some of the worst tomes and records you could imagine.&nbsp; If some of the priests that I saw are on the king's short-list to the dungeon, I would imagine that the old fashioned way will eventually provide some confirmation.&nbsp; &nbsp;I can tell you that the records I found detailing the blade's magic was part of the Byzenti collection.&nbsp; He also recorded that the Church had determined that the blade was to be destroyed, but it 'disappeared' before they could figure out how.&nbsp; What didn't make it into the official records was that one of the priests guarding the blade wasn't found dead, he wasn't found 'at all'.&nbsp; And there was a hand-written annotation in the book's margin that might also interest you.&nbsp; It seems like Adrian Byzeni suspected that the priest who disappeared was an unacknowledged&nbsp; ... by-blow ... of the blade's creator."<br><br>There were, of course, things that she didn't volunteer, particularly about the property of the blade that would make it particularly useful to her, or advance further that anyone bearing the blood of the blade's creator might want to be a little extra careful until they figured out exactly what the tie in was.&nbsp; Mercy planned to watch over Lucius herself.<br><br>"I would like to point out that the succubus COULD have targeted Lucius simply because of his ... inclinations.&nbsp; The disguise she employed required only happenstance, given that my mother had ... made his acquaintance ... earlier in the day.&nbsp; Where such powers are concerned, however, dismissing anything as mere coincidence is quite brave." <br><br>Her information shared, Mercy inclined her head and stepped back, relinquishing the floor, and listened.<br><br>Valerian confirmed that he likely could use magic to locate the blade if it were still kept close enough, and then Duncan 'took charge' and stated what their next course of action should be.&nbsp; Jazelle's expression didn't change once Duncan said that she and Mercy should remain behind.&nbsp; Her gentle, serene smile stayed in place, while Mercy openly grinned -- a grin which broadened when Lucius interjected his opinion that, in her opinion, confirmed that her new lover was a lot smarter than he occasionally demonstrated.<br><br><em>"I regret, my general, that I cannot.&nbsp; You have need of my experience, and if there is a demon lord who has been released upon this plane without the customary bindings, I will be no safer here than with you ... particularly given the details of our arrangement."</em><br><br>Mercy just continued her cheshire cat grin, the expression on her face a clear expression of 'Yeah, right."&nbsp; &nbsp; "Sorry, General.&nbsp; You seem like a nice guy, but I've already got my orders."<br><br>Lucius hadn't been revealed as one of Phaenix's Chosen, yet, but Mercy had the sneaking suspicion that once they got their hands on his ancestor's blade, all bets on that were off.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>25-03-2015, 16:05:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>All eyes seemed to turn to Mercy when she began speaking (if they weren't on her already, as in Lucius's case). There was no immediately reaction on the faces of the general or his second, but it was clear they were taking her words quite seriously. The last bit of news from her, though, indicating the priest who disappeared with the blade was a bastard of the blade's creator... that definitely had more of the melodramatic hint to it that the other men would expect, and both Duncan and Lucius certainly raised a brow at that.<br><br>Lucius was waiting for her to go into more detail about how his bloodline tied into the situation, but she did not. He was fine with that, but something in the back of his mind seemed to push and prod him to ask her about it more later. Nor did she seem to go into overt detail about why her deity seemed to guide her to find it herself. The answers so far, at least, seemed to appease the King, the Mage, and the General, so who was he to rock the boat? <br><br>She went on to detail how his night with the first succubus could have simply been good (or bad, depending on how one looked at it) fortune. <br><br>"Chances are, she was spying on him earlier, when he and I met lady Alerian and he took an obvious interest in her," Duncan said, without accusation. "I agree with you Mercy - I do not think that coincidence is involved at all."<br><br>"That was before I -knew- who... and what... she was, of course," Lucius immediately added in, in case Duncan was antsy to throw down any accusations before that. "If I had known who and what she was... I would have given her a rather generous distance... no offense," he said, smiling and bowing his head slightly towards Jazelle.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Valerian made the confirmation - he had magic such as the general suggested, able to scrye for the blade's current whereabouts... -if- it was close. If the priest in Mercy's story had left the area, though, Valerian confessed that his magic might not be able to pinpoint an exact location. Perhaps it would simply give them a direction... or, it might not provide any useful information at all. "It will take some time to prepare and enact the spell, an hour perhaps."<br><br>When Duncan suggested the two women remain behind, as silly as it sounded and romantically protective at the same time, Jazelle politely 'declined', explaining why her presence would be paramount. Duncan nodded to her, and then Mercy declined as well... indicating she had 'orders' that seemed to trump the wishes of those gathered. Duncan raised a brow in response to that. "The orders from your deity do not take precedence over those of our King," he informed her, though he had a sneaky suspicion she would not agree.<br><br>But Lucius jumped in quickly at this point. "General... she's good. To come with us, I mean. She can handle herself. I've seen her in action, and... she's -almost- as good as me," he said without looking at her. "-Almost-".<br><br>The King cleared his throat at that point. "General... given that she is not helpless, and is one of the very few to know what is going on - I urge you to consider making use of her. These details are not to go beyond the ears of those we have listed, for you can certainly understand the kind of panic it would cause. With that in mind, the more 'help' you have the better."<br><br>Duncan turned his gaze toward the King, and finally nodded once in acknowledgement. When the King 'urges' something, it's as good as a command. And though Duncan was not afraid to voice dissent, even to the King's face in front of others, he would not do so unless he had very compelling reasons to do so. Right now, denying Mercy or Jazelle's company was not one of those times. <br><br>"Right then!" Lucius said, clapping his hands together once, the loud -pop- drawing the attention of most of the others. "So, Firecracker here will use his magic to find the blade's location. Then the four of us will go seek it out. Sounds rather exciting, if you ask me. At -least- as exciting as the last time Duncan and I went on an 'adventure' together with a pair of women," he said, giving the general a sly smile that he knew would make Duncan a tad bit uncomfortable... which it did.<br><br>"Yes... something like that," Valerian responded dryly. "Are there any other questions or concerns?" <br><br>The King took a step forward. "When we are done, I would like to speak with my general... alone," he said.<br><br>Duncan nodded of course, and Lucius was simply grateful that his name hadn't been called.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-03-2015, 18:44:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Mercy's gaze was unrepentant in the face of raised eyebrows.&nbsp; Perhaps it was nothing more than the usual malicious whispers that were common amongst the worthy of court and temple alike.&nbsp; In both arenas, if there weren't rumors about you or your family, then you were either on your way out the door or dead already whether you had been let in on the secret or not.&nbsp; Since she was still operating on suspicion and guesswork regarding whether her god had indeed led her here or whether she was just wishful thinking ... she didn't press the point.<br><br>In the long run, it didn't make much difference anyway.&nbsp; Once they had the blade and could put suspicions to the test, then she might do some errant speculating and see where that led.&nbsp; It also could be that she had annoyed her god with her lack of trust, though it didn't seem likely.&nbsp; Question everything was, after all, one of the primary tenets of the faith.&nbsp; Given that she wasn't around for Phanix's last rising, she had only hearsay and dubious record to guide her thoughts regarding her god's more recent 'chosen'.<br><br>The byplay regarding Lucius, Duncan and her mother was a welcome, somewhat amusing distraction, as was Duncan's lofty reminder that king trumped god.&nbsp; Her eyes widened innocently, but her smile to the general, and to the king, was impudent.&nbsp; "Well, technically, I'm a visitor, or intruder, here rather than His Majesty's subject.&nbsp; Given that my arrival did help His Majesty from having to fill a key spot in his army's chain of command, I'm hoping that he will forgive my lack of formal introduction and ... royal permission to spy on his priests."<br><br>At that, she turned slightly and inclined her head with a passable show of humility, but based on the king's dubious reception of it, he was no more fooled than anyone else.&nbsp; Mercy sighed mournfully, and remarked ... to no one in particular ... "I am so misunderstood."<br><br>"Yes, well ... no harm done, especially as it rather sounds like the lower levels of the keep could do with a bit of daylight down in their depths and a good airing out, I suppose," Bertrand allowed, looking back and forth again between the two demon-blooded women who had become unusual allies.&nbsp; Mostly, Jazelle had been reasonable, and she had kept most of her amusement at his expense hidden, enough so that he could pretend not to have noticed it.<br><br>"Almost," Mercy agreed soberly with Lucius' assessment, though her eyes danced almost gleefully. <br><br>The king chimed in, adding his own opinion, and exercised a bit of diplomacy in making it a request.&nbsp; Perhaps he was trying to smooth over his omission in the general regarding his plans, and if so, Mercy gave him a few points on the plus side.&nbsp; Diplomacy cost little, and its lack could sometimes be terribly expensive -- realizing that just because you gave the orders didn't make you automatically in possession of the best orders to give was one of the premiere talents of any ruler, commander, high priest, or what have you, in Mercy's book.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br><em>"If I might be allowed?"&nbsp; </em>Jazelle's voice, in contrast to her daughter's, was almost humble, her face still as serene as if they had been discussing the afternoon's tea.&nbsp; <em>"Valerian, if you could spare a moment before you begin your preparations, I would be in your debt if you would share with General Vanzelle the details of our discussion yesterday, once his Majesty has concluded his business, of course."</em><br><br>The king gave Jazelle a look from beneath lowered brows, while Valerian's bushy ungroomed ones raised high toward his widow's peak.&nbsp; &nbsp;After a moment, while Mercy looked from face to face curiously, and Jazelle's expression did not change, Valerian nodded.&nbsp; "Of course."<br><br><em>"Thank you.&nbsp; I have a few things I should see to before the spell is cast."&nbsp; </em>Her first words were respectful and sincere; the ones that followed less so, as demonstrated by the rather wry twist of her lips.&nbsp; "I will meet you back at Duncan's quarters."<br><br><em>"Your Majesty."&nbsp; </em>She inclined her head to the king once more, then turned her eyes toward Duncan, and held them there for a long, silent moment.&nbsp; Then, she gathered the shadows to her, stepped into them, and was gone.<br><br>"I hate it when she does that," Bertrand remarked, to nobody in particular.<br><br>"That sounds like our cue."&nbsp; Mercy captured Lucius' free arm and tugged him back toward the door, not bothering with more formal farewells.&nbsp; "Come on, lover.&nbsp; I'm not all that used to the corridors and passages here yet.&nbsp; I'd hate to get lost and make you come looking for me." &nbsp;It was a blatant excuse, and nothing in her demeanor or voice suggested that it was 'court true' rather than in any way accurate, but it was a decent excuse.&nbsp; However, with a muttered, 'oh yeah, she did remember to give the king a modified bow before resuming her urging to Lucius.<br><br>"I suppose there are a few materials I can gather from the storeroom," the wizard grumped without much grace.&nbsp; "Will a candlemark suffice, Your Highness?"<br><br>Bertrand had intended to take Duncan back to more formal settings for their conversation, but given that he still had business with the wizard ... and probably this was better handled away from prying ears anyway.&nbsp; His royal advisers tended to get a bit unreasonably grumpy when he made it too obvious that he was trying to hide things from them anyway -- which would only lead to more conversations like this.&nbsp; "I would think so, Wizard Valerian."<br><br>He squared his royal shoulders.&nbsp; Oh well -- at least this would be the worst of any such conversations that he expected to need to be having over the next few days, weeks, or what have you.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-03-2015, 08:53:37</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Lucius only smiled wider at Mercy's response. He knew he shouldn't have – if Mercy ticked off the King or Duncan, she could find herself in a world of trouble – Jazelle's daughter or not. That, of course, could cause issues between Duncan and Jazelle... but worse still might be Duncan's risk of upsetting his King. While Duncan was incredibly loyal to his King, Bernard was nothing if not a practical man. If he saw a better candidate to take Duncan's place, Lucius was certain the man would make the move – as gently as possible. For Duncan to risk the King's anger, that would only serve to make the King look all the harder for such a person.<br><br>But he found it so interesting, the way Mercy responded, trying to look innocent – when he knew for certain she likely didn't have an 'innocent' bone in her body.<br><br>Duncan was about to inform Mercy in response that visitors were on even shorter leashes than loyal citizens were, but instead, Bertrand beat him to the punch, and when the King spoke, Duncan went silent. Bertrand definitely agreed with the idea of scouring the lower levels of the temple. Even if he didn't admit it, most gathered there could tell that he was curious, himself, what might be found in those depths. What treasures.... and what horrors the church may have been hiding for years or even decades.<br><br>The entire discussion so far had been diplomatic – with a hint of mischief from Lucius and Mercy, of course. It seemed Valerian did not think -everyone- was taking this seriously, but Duncan for sure knew that Lucius handled stress through humor. That's the way his friend had always been. Lucius was the kind of man to smile, laugh, and ask for a beer and a cheap fuck as a dozen enemies bore down on him. 'If I am meant to die in that moment, Duncan, I will die whether I am playing the hedonist – or soiling my breeches. Why not have -fun- with it, rather than shedding tears for something you can not control?' he had told him once. Duncan had to admit, it had a sort of truth to it that he found almost comforting.<br><br>Jazelle then spoke up, asking Valerian to share certain things with Duncan, to which Valerian agreed. Duncan raised a brow at that, and then Jazelle was excusing herself from the meeting with 'other things' she needed to see to. Then she told Valerian that she would meet him back at Duncan's quarters... and then she stepped into the shadows before Duncan could say a word. <br><br>Bertrand remarked on his dislike of her doing that, and in response, Mercy indicated it was time for her and Lucius to leave as well. Even Mercy's silly reason to drag Lucius with her still held some possible amount of truth to it – how well -did- she know the keep's layout, Duncan wondered? Duncan gave a nod towards Lucius and Mercy as they departed, and then the wizard excused himself as well, leaving Duncan alone with the King.<br><br>Bertrand began without delay, once they were alone.<br><br>“I will not apologize for how I handled this... though I do regret... certain actions taking place in an order that I would not normally approve of,” he said. “But what's done is done, and I do hope that you will not resent me for it.<br><br>Duncan did, of course, hold some amount of resentment. This was the first time in a very long time that he had felt as though his King did not trust him, or have complete faith in him to do the right thing, to take the best course of action for the King and kingdom he had fought for over so many years. But his face was a blank slate, and he nodded once. “Of course not, sire,” he said.<br><br>Bertrand smiled faintly, then glanced over at the door through which the Wizard had left. It was silent for a moment before he began anew.<br><br>“You have grown... attached... to the demon,” he said, his voice lower, gentler. Duncan nodded without a word.<br><br>“I caution you on this,” the King continued. “Your kingdom needs you. Your King needs you. A demon... does not 'need' -anything-... or -anyone-.”<br><br>Duncan blinked for a moment, tilting his head as if he were confused.<br><br>“Are you saying... not to trust her?” he asked.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://hilariousandnegative.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/val27721.jpg)</div>Bertrand took in a deep breath. “Only you can be the judge of that,” he said plainly. “She has been an able ally, and she claims to be... different... from most of her kind. But she is what she is... and all I am suggesting, not just as your King but as your -friend-, is for you to guard your heart,” he said. “That is all. She is more intelligent and more cunning, I'd wager, than the rest of us put together. Consider her age alone, and... well... it just makes sense.”<br><br>Duncan said nothing, but nodded with respect to indicate he had heard him. And a moment later, the door through which Valerian had walked through opened again, and the old wizard returned. Now Duncan hoped Valerian would explain what it was Jazelle asked him to share, and if the King had any more business for the two of them, now would be the perfect time to share it.<br><br>- - - - - - –&nbsp; -<br><br>“You really -do- know your way around the castle, don't you?” Lucius asked as he and Mercy stepped outside, though it was clearly obvious Lucius was glad to be out of there. He had bowed towards his King before he left, of course, but such meetings always made him -nervous-. He wasn't a politico, though he understood at Duncan's level such a skill was required.<br><br>Lucius moved closer to Mercy, wrapping an arm across her back and down at an angle... a hand coming to rest firmly on her opposite buttock.<br><br>“And what's next on -our- agenda, anyway? I need to know these things. I need to see a painted about a specific job..,” he said with a smile.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>01-04-2015, 01:07:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Valerian, his arms seemingly dwarfed by the huge leatherbound tome that he carried, looked almost surprised for a moment that King Bertrand and General Vanzelle were still in his workroom.&nbsp; "Ah, yes," he murmured, and shoved over an assorted collection of bottles, vials, and notes to make room for the tome.<br><br>Then, he surveyed the room suspiciously, and waggled his fingers and drew a small pinch of dust from one of his many pockets and blew it into the air.&nbsp; Attentively, he watched the tiny particles swirl into the air, then shrugged slightly when whatever he was expecting happened, or didn't.<br><br>"You can never be too careful.&nbsp; &nbsp;Not, I suppose that it matters, since I've laid wards against all but those I've invited in.&nbsp; &nbsp;Since I'm sharing Jazelle's secrets with her permission, I suppose she could spy if she wanted to without offense, and her daughter probably has her own methods of finding things out.&nbsp; Still, the courtesies should be respected."<br><br>Valerian waggled his bushy brows and dusted off his hands.<br><br>"Now then ... Jazelle wanted me to share the details of our arrangement regarding your foolhardy wager, General Vanzelle.&nbsp; While the former demon and I have collaborated over the years, I would have hesitated to bind myself to one as fully as you have.&nbsp; At least a magic binding has clear procedures, rules and limitations ... whereas you have bound a very dangerous creature to you by the strength of honor and whatever romantic inclinations she has garnered from her association with our kind.&nbsp; You are brave, General .. or incredibly foolish, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt."<br><br><em>"Valerian ..."</em> King Bertrand murmured in gentle reproof, reminding the wizard both that they were all friends here, and that there was little use bemoaning what had been done.<br><br>"My association with Jazelle has lasted a good number of years, General, and I believe that she is trustworthy, as far as trust goes.&nbsp; She is an incredibly intelligent creature, and I doubt that any truly intelligent being would choose a life of servitude in the abyss over a relatively useful one where she can command her own destiny ... within the scope of the disciplines that were employed in gaining her freedom, of course."<br><br>The wizard spoke as if both men obviously followed every word of his explanation, and when he had finished, he waved toward his private quarters with an impatient hand.&nbsp; "Through mutual agreement, I possess the means of summoning Jazelle in a fashion that does not depend on her innate powers, but rather my own magic.&nbsp; &nbsp;After your meeting with her, General Vanzelle, she came to me and explained the terms of your wager won. and her fears regarding your ... lack of full comprehension ... over what you had done.&nbsp; To that end, she has charged, and granted me the means, to imprison her should the unintended consequences lead me to believe that she is reverting to her 'old ways'.&nbsp; I really hope that it does not become necessary, for we can greatly use her knowledge and expertise in dealing with this crisis ... but it seems that the two of you have reached an understanding?"<br><br><em>"What do you mean, 'imprison'?"</em> Bertrand asked, his less bushy brow furrowing. <br><br>"It is a variation on the compulsion magic such as the ... implement ... I enchanted that you both are familiar with," the wizard continued, only his shying away from naming the device indicating any level of discomfort at all in what they had done. &nbsp;"I now possess the necessary components of a spell to draw Jazelle into the summoning circle which I have created, and ... imprison her within its confines ... until such time as she can again be released."<br><br>Bertrand looked rather impressed despite himself.&nbsp; <em>"Would this ... circle ... work on a succubus such as the one Lucius encountered?&nbsp; Or our demonic intruder? ... or even, perhaps, Jazelle's daughter, should she be a danger to our efforts?"</em><br><br>"No, Your Highness ... though I could attempt similar spells upon either, it would pit my magic against their resistance, and their own wills.&nbsp; While I might hold a succubus for a time in such a manner, to attempt it upon a greater demon or even a ... self-willed half-demon ... would likely fail and exhaust me in the attempt.&nbsp; &nbsp;In effect, Jazelle has given over her will to the spell, much as the fastening of the collar despite the symbolic warning did in the case of the general."<br><br>The wizard might well have forgotten that Duncan was still present, but the king's eyes shifted to his general, indicating that the monarch had not posed his question simply in idle curiosity.&nbsp; &nbsp;The king had, indeed, come into his own over the last few years -- enough so that his advisors might do well to wonder if they knew him quite as completely as they had thought.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)<br></div>Outside, Mercy stepped into Lucius' familiar groping embrace as if she had expected it, and grinned up at him. &nbsp;"Do you really think I would come here to poke about in the dungeons without having acquainted myself with how to get around.&nbsp; Besides, if nothing else, I can always find my way to Mother ... and now to you as well."&nbsp; &nbsp; She gave him a teasing little smile, and leaned up and in to bestow a gentle kiss somewhere between his cheek and his ear.<br><br>"I just figured that would free us up to make preparations before somebody figured out that there was somebody to give orders to -- If you prefer, you can think of it as saving them the trouble of telling us what we already know we need to do.&nbsp; This uncle that had the blade ... I don't suppose you know where it was kept, do you?&nbsp; Some family estate, armory, or the like that you still have access to?&nbsp; I know the wizard said he can do a spell to locate it, but ... trust but confirm, right?"<br><br>Mercy's smile was every bit as innocent as it had been in the wizard's workroom. &nbsp;"And then you can see your painter, and I can arrange for your general to receive a delivery of good booze and the requisite courtesy gift for hospitality.&nbsp; They're always more generous with the booze when they know that you're willing to chip in."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>07-04-2015, 22:52:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan stood nearby, simply watching the old wizard return to his chambers, massive leather tome in his grasp. The wizard seemed almost surprised for some reason to find them there, while Duncan had fully expected the man to share some deep secrets with him, at least according to Jazelle's wishes. The wizard cleared a spot on his table and then set the tome down, as if it weighed several hundred pounds. From the look of it, that just might be the case.<br><br>The wizard then performed a spell, causing Duncan's eyes to narrow slightly. His words seemed to indicate it was a spell to make sure they were not being spied upon, and when the wizard seemed confident that they weren't, Duncan felt his tensions ease to some degree.<br><br>Then satisfied, Valerian began in on his speech. He confessed to have been working with Jazelle over the years, and he also confessed his reluctance to bind himself as close to one as Duncan had bound himself to Jazelle. Part of Duncan immediately wanted to accuse the wizard of being craven, but Duncan was wise enough – even without being a wizard – to know that Valerian's reluctance was born of wisdom, not of cowardice. Despite Duncan's deep, deep affection for Jazelle, he still remembered what she -was-, and her kind was dangerous and deadly – even on a good day. Duncan very vividly remembered that -feeling- of power when he entered Jazelle's personal space for the first time, that feeling that she could do anything she wanted to him – in as excruciating a manner as she wished – if he hadn't been well-behaved.<br><br>No, Valerian was no coward for being reluctant to have such a binding with a succubus – he was smart enough -not- to.<br><br>The rest of Valerian's opinion on the matter, explaining that Duncan had bound himself to Jazelle by honor and romantic need, rather than by maigc, as well as accusing him of being brave – or foolish, caused Duncan's back to tighten. Before he could utter a word, though, the King uttered the wizard's name in a gently admonishing tone. The King's utterance of that single word also reigned in Duncan's own desire to verbally lash out at the old wizard, as well, and for the moment the general remained silent.<br><br>Valerian then went on, explaining that his 'association' with Jazelle had spanned several years, and in that time, the wizard had come to 'trust' her – at least to a point. The wizard then went on to explain that he possessed the means by which he could summon Jazelle in a way that did not rely on her own abilities, but rather by his own magic. <br><br>The old wizard continued, then, explaining that Jazelle had come to him for counsel, expressing her concern that she didn't believe Duncan comprehended the extend of what he had done as part of his wager with her. Duncan was fairly certain he -did- understand, at least after he and Jazelle had spoken further of it... but something in the back of his mind seemed to niggle and poke at him, as if to confirm that he didn't -truly- understand what he had gotten himself into. He remembered the wager, and at the time... he had meant it as a way to have Jazelle -all to himself-. A stupid thing to ask of a succubus, of course, but it had been his greatest desire in that moment, and as such... it had been the wager he made. <br><br>Valerian also explained that he could compel Jazelle into a state of imprisonment, should she revert back to her 'old ways'. That sent a chill down Duncan's spine – it was difficult to believe that Jazelle could be anything other than what she was now... but he knew better. The darker part of him knew that she was able, for now, to resist her 'inborn desires', but she had even warned him that it would not take terribly much for her to lose her control, should she be denied that which she needed...<br><br>But Duncan had absolutely no plans to deny her -anything-.<br><br>At Valerian's supposition that Duncan and Jazelle had reached such an understanding, Duncan nodded. He wasn't about to pour his heart out to these two men – he knew it might spell the end of his position with the King if he were to openly admit his love for the creature of the abyss known as Jazelle, but he did nod, indicating that they had, indeed, come to an understanding as Valerian had suggested.<br><br>Bertrand wisely asked if the circle meant for Jazelle be used for -another- creature of the abyss, if such a need arose. The implement the wizard referred to, of course, was the collar.... that curious collar that he had been given what felt like months ago.<br><br>Valerian explained that the circle meant for Jazelle was meant only for her, most likely. It had been fashioned to contain her and her alone. In effect, Jazelle had assisted Valerian in preparing the containment, and as such, it seemed as if it was attuned to her.<br><br>“So... we have no way of stopping another succubus – or a possibly greater threat, through your magic?” Duncan asked pointedly. If his circle could hold no demon other than Jazelle, then what other magic aid could Valerian offer?<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div>Lucius was quite pleased when Mercy did not reject his advances. Mostly because she had one of the most shapely and firm asses he had ever groped – and his hand was missing it muchly. But such public displays – which would cause the eyes of the nobility to pop out of their skulls and gasps of offended propriety to be heard echoing around the keep's stone walls – were something he was fond of, especially when it was with a woman he was fond of... like the one beside him now.<br><br>She explained to him that she had already made herself acquainted with the layout of the keep and dungeons – in so many words, at least. She could also find her way back to her mother, and then she surprised him when she said she could find her way back to -him-. He raised a brow, turning his head to the side to cast a sideways glance in her direction.<br><br>“How so?” he asked gently, the simple two-word question filled with curiosity as he noted the playful smile on her face. Was her sense of smell -that- keen, he wondered? Would he need to bathe more often? She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and he of course did not refuse it.<br><br>She also then explained why she had created their exit for them, and he raised both brows then, acknowledging her point was a good one. Then she was onto the subject of his family again, asking about where his family would have kept 'family relic type stuff'. <br><br>His face turned to a smirk – his hand gripping her ass cheek a little more firmly for a moment before easing up again as he responded. “My old family estate did have an armory. Various 'treasures' were kept there, but it was mostly junk. My family didn't have a long line of noted warriors or anything of the sort, but there were certain... heirlooms... that they kept on display out of a sense of pride,” he confirmed. “But many of those were moved to the Temple. My family were ardent followers... though obviously I was a black sheep in that regard,” he snorted softly.<br><br>“I could... take you to the estate, if you wish to confirm and verify what we're seeking isn't still there. I -suppose- it could be. I didn't see it moved with my own eyes, to be honest. I just assumed it was donated with a lot of the other items that my parents gave to the church to 'show their ongoing support',” he said.<br><br>“If we do that, though... you... will likely meet my parents...,” he said, suddenly sounding a bit awkward. “They... will likely ask you... questions, and... talk to you and such.”<br><br>She gave him an innocent smile, then, and spoke of the painter, and the booze. He chuckled softly in response to both ideas. It certainly crossed his mind that she was merely setting him up. That she would find this sword she was looking for... and simply disappear, not bothering with paintings or booze or more visits to the baths. It burned him to think that she could simply be using him, but it certainly wouldn't be the first time. It would just be... the hardest time.<br><br>Those thoughts somehow transformed into action, and a second later he had turned – and pushed her back up against the nearest stone wall. His lips pressed against hers – feverishly, as if he would be able to tell from her reaction if she was planning to betray him or not. His hands cupped beneath her breasts and lifted as he pressed his chest against hers, his lips demanding that she kiss him in return.<br><br>She better -not- be fucking with him...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>08-04-2015, 23:35:37</strong>
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				At Duncan's question, Valerian's eyes cut to the general's, and he held the gaze for a long moment, as if he remembered other times when their two scopes of interest did not align.&nbsp; For all that the wizard might lack in bulk or stature, his strength of will showed in his gaze and expression, emphasizing the similarities in the two men despite their very different discipline.&nbsp; The king gently cleared his throat again, giving a faint 'we're waiting' smile combined with a raise of his eyebrows, and Valerian seemed to suddenly remember to breathe once again as the tension diffused.<br><br>"I did not say that, General.&nbsp; What I said is that imprisoning or controlling such a creature without a specific focus is fraught with more risk than potential for success.&nbsp; I can certainly use magic to drive a succubus, or other intruder, back from whence they came.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is even possible I could destroy a succubus entirely with magic, could she be distracted or retained long enough.&nbsp; However, short of destruction, driving them away is a temporary measure at best so long as the one who has opened a gateway between the planes still has the wherewithal to open another and summon them forth again.<br><br>Jazelle is a special case, in that she has shared with me a knowledge that weakens her against my magic.&nbsp; Could I find that knowledge to use against the summoned demon lord, it would strengthen my advantage greatly, yet I lack sufficient relevant intelligence to have even a place to start.&nbsp; Demons do not, as a rule, part with this information voluntarily.&nbsp; It is usually obtained either by trickery, bargains with another of their own kind, or occasionally barter between casters, such as myself.&nbsp; Yet even wizards do not part with such information lightly, as use, and certainly misuse, is an invitation to disaster."<br><br>The wizard opened up the heavy tome to somewhere the middle of the book, and leafed through to find the page he sought.<br><br>"I would suggest that you look for the knowledge amongst the priests -- the half-demon ... a priestess of Phaenix, no less ... likely has the right of it that rogues amongst them have turned to dark paths in their pursuit of power.&nbsp; That she has come here ... strengthens my belief that a time of upheaval is upon us.&nbsp; We will need all the magic, and strength of arms, we can muster to protect the keep and the countryside if demons can come and go as they please amongst us.&nbsp; And Jazelle, and you, should beware, General.&nbsp; I doubt that any of the higher echelon of demons would behold a succubus unchained and not ... wish to end the freedom she enjoys ... as well as punish her for it."<br><br>The king's face paled slightly at that, and he inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders.&nbsp; <em>"Well, we'll have to see what we can do about denying them the opportunity to harm any more of our people, or ... our allies, then, shall we?&nbsp; Duncan, would you be so kind as to ready as many of your trusted soldiers as you deem necessary to sweep through the lower levels of the keep and take into custody every soul found there.&nbsp; &nbsp; Valerian will accompany the initial force to open the passages he has discovered.&nbsp; Check with ... uhm ... Mercy ... and make sure that she does not know of an entry point that we do not.&nbsp; Anyone who resists ... disable them with whatever force is necessary.&nbsp; &nbsp;Valerian has made cells ready to hold them." </em><br><br>The king's voice was calm, resolute, though there were hints of how painful and distasteful he found giving the orders.<br><br>"If they show any signs of casting, any unusual behavior, they should be bound and gagged should they seem able to regain consciousness before they are in their cell.&nbsp; If in doubt, err on the side of caution."&nbsp; The wizard interjected, looking up from where his finger was already tracing the book's vellum.<br><br>King Bertrand, still looking suitably grave but determined, withdrew a parchment bound with the thin, blue ribbon that graced all royal decrees and treaties, and unrolled it, giving the inked letters on it one last glance before he handed it over to Duncan.&nbsp; <em> "Here is a list of all priests and other persons of note who are hereby declared traitors to the crown.&nbsp; There is also space for you to add any more names that you consider pertinent ... as Valerian says, Lady Mercy may well have suggestions.&nbsp; If anyone protests too loudly, do not spare your ink any more than your sword.&nbsp; We will sort out any mistakes after we have secured our base."<br></em><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>If Mercy minded being publicly groped, she did not indicate it.&nbsp; When Lucius asked how she could find him, the half-demon gave him a practiced, exaggeratedly knowing look that soon dissolved into an unrepentant grin. &nbsp;"Part of the blood, lover.&nbsp; Desire is ... like scent to a hound.&nbsp; Now that I know yours, I can find you if I look ... almost without limit, given enough time and effort and no pesky shielding spells.&nbsp; The stronger your desire, especially if you call it to mind, the easier it is."<br><br>She listened intently as he described where the blade might well have been kept.&nbsp; "Actually, what I want to do is see if it left any trace of its magic, any ... residue or resonance ... that might be useful in finding it, or revealing any trap that might be set for anyone seeking it.&nbsp; Of course, if it just happened that it WAS there, all the better.&nbsp; If your parents ask too many uncomfortable questions, you can always tell them that you've found religion and are exploring the possibility of converting."<br><br>The half-demon was no dummy, and being mistrusted was something she had come to accept, even anticipate, since that long ago day when she had been little more than an innocent.&nbsp; It did not even sting anymore, and she likely would have considered Lucius as simple-minded as the wizard did if he simply let his trust be earned by a couple of really good fucks.<br><br>Lucius abruptly pushed her up against the nearest wall, not with his hands, which were moving with purpose, but rather his whole body.&nbsp; His hands re-discovered the spots he had demonstrated a certain fondness for the previous night, and his mouth found hers with equal facility.&nbsp; Mercy did not resist, but rather cooperated with equal readiness and passion, clinging to the kiss with lips and teeth even as he eased away for breath.&nbsp; There were, after all, some perks associated with not being predictable.<br><br>"Or would you prefer that I don something more ... sedate ... before you introduce me?" she asked as she checked her lips as if to make sure they were still there and in working condition before favoring Lucius with a lopsided little smile.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>13-04-2015, 10:10:24</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>The two men, general and wizard, stared each other down, neither of them blinking. Duncan was well-aware of what Valerian thought of him, just as Valerian was well aware what Duncan thought of him. Each of the two men had been hated and loved more by others, but with these two men so close to the King, it was surprising that they had not butted heads even more often. Duncan was sure that was why Bertrand kept both of them for counsel – they both thought so differently from one another that the King was sure he could always count on at least two different possible answers to any difficulty he might face.<br><br>The King gently cleared his throat, as if politely encouraging both men to put their dicks away and get back to the heart of the matter. <br><br>Valerian went on, then, explaining what he meant in more detail so that the 'non wizards' in the room could understand more thoroughly. The wizard explained the extent of his power as far as dealing with demons on the spot, and something told Duncan that the wizard wasn't sharing -all- of his secrets, of course. Driving a demon away might only be a temporary solution, though, and Duncan definitely didn't like the sound of that.<br><br>Valerian went on to explain that Jazelle was a different case altogether. She had willingly given Valerian an advantage over her, making herself intentionally weaker against his arcane powers. Of course, if the wizard had THAT kind of power over a stronger demon, the advantage would fall squarely back upon the mortals. He went on to explain that such knowledge is not willingly given, which made Duncan wonder... why had Jazelle willingly given it to Valerian?<br><br>Momentarily, Valerian opened the massive tome he had retrieved.<br><br>Valerian gave his warning about what might come next, and finished with a deeper warning about Jazelle and what could befall her should a higher demon cross her path and realize what she was doing. Surprisingly, Bertrand responded quite alarmed at the news, as if he cared for Jazelle far more than even he was letting on, inhaling deeply and paling at the news.<br><br>The King set to business, though, instructing Duncan to gather as many men as he'd need to sweep the lower levels of the keep, to take into custody whoever he found there. He encouraged Duncan to use Mercy as a resource, and the general nodded. The King also suggested that they -capture- as many of those who resisted as possible, and Duncan nodded again, albeit a little more slowly. Capture was always more risky than outright elimination, but if that was what his King demanded, Duncan would do his best to make sure it happened.<br><br>The wizard added his own bit of advice concerning any spell-casters they might encounter, and Duncan nodded politely at the man. It was a tactic he would have given to his men anyway, but it didn't hurt to simply acknowledge that Valerian had thought of the same thing.<br><br>Then, the King moved and presented a parchment bound with a&nbsp; thin blue-ribbon, marked with the various signets of the King. Bertrand unrolled it as if to look at it with reluctance heavy in his heart, then he passed it to Duncan, explaining what it was. A royal decree, declaring a list of names of those whom were suspected of treason, no less. And, as the King explained, there was room for more names, if necessary. Duncan nodded again, rolled the parchment back up and glanced at both men in turn.<br><br>“I'll be on my way, then. We'll commence the operation within an hour, after I've gathered my men,” he said, when with a slight bow toward the King – and a polite note towards the wizard, Duncan spun on his heel and headed toward the door.<br><br>This was&nbsp; very unsavory work, he knew. Almost -all- of his enemies had always been on the OUTSIDE of the city and keep's walls – not INSIDE it. Still, if these priests were mixed-up in anything demonic, the sooner the disease was attended to, the better. If left unchecked, it would merely fester until it rotted the entire kingdom from the inside out.<br><br>For now, Duncan headed to the barracks, knowing which men and women he wanted at his side and back. And... he would need to arm and armor himself, which meant a trip back to his quarters... and a chance to see and speak to Jazelle again, he hoped...<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Lucius listened to Mercy's explanation with definitely curiosity. She claimed she would be able to find him, anytime, anywhere, simply based on the desire he felt for her. The stronger that desire and more prevalent in his mind it was, the easier it would be for her to locate him. “Oh, is that so? Well in my case, at least, you'll be able to find me from across the known universe, then, I think,” he said, expressing just how -much- he desired her – and it was true, for now of course. It could change. If she went evil on him and tried to devour his soul like the LAST succubus did, well... his desire for her MIGHT take something of a hit.<br><br>He was grateful that she didn't seem to mind his groping, though. With a rump like hers, it was seriously difficult to avoid doing so in the first place – and if pressed, he would certainly blame -HER- for having such a nice ass to begin with.<br><br>Lucius listened intently once more when she explained that she was looking for the magic blade's 'trail', so to speak. He nodded, -thinking- he understood her meaning. But then he burst into laughter when she suggested he use the 'conversion' excuse to explain -her- presence. “Well, I must admit, my father at least would take one look at you and believe it,” he sniggered. “And I would have to say, to have you – I think I WOULD convert,” he added, a playful smile on his lips. “Maybe I already have? Maybe I already worship Mercy now. I bet you'd like that, your own legion of priests worshiping you, lusting after you... I can't help but wonder just how many other men you can 'instantly locate' based on their desire for you?” he said, the smile still on his face. It stood to reason, in his mind, that she had had lovers before, and if any of them still longed for her – she'd still have that same sort of 'connection' with them, as well.<br><br>She also didn't react negatively to the way he pushed her against the wall and -took- a kiss from her, whether she wanted it or not. Again – he'd blame -her-, if he was asked. SHE had to be so beautiful – that most certainly wasn't -his- fault.<br><br>She suggested donning some clothing more sedate than what she was wearing. His eyes looked down... and down... and enjoyed the view for a moment before forcing them back up to her eyes. “I'd recommend something more... priestly. If you're wanting to be taken -as- a priestess, wherever we go,” he said with a lopsided grin, then&nbsp; gently released her and set off again down the stone-floored corridor.<br><br>By the gods – what had come -over- him lately?
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>17-04-2015, 21:37:14</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>In the quarters that had been given over to her, Jazelle made certain preparations, carefully making sure that nothing in 'Lady Valerian's' possession was anything but normal for a visiting diplomat.&nbsp; Hopefully they would not think to look for the traces of her passage through the shadows, but until this was resolved she would no longer come and go from this chamber.&nbsp; There was nothing to be gained either from embarrassing the king, or Duncan, and certainly nothing to be gained by tipping any portion of their hand to their foes.<br><br>It was inconvenient, but Jazelle was mindful of the dangers, both to herself and to those whom she held in affection and esteem.<br><br>Certainly, given her daughter's ties, gods and demons alike had their heads turned to this small kingdom.&nbsp; There were coincidences, certainly, more than humans liked to admit -- but her daughter had risen high in the ranks of the priests of the destroyer god -- and for a demon lord to have come here.&nbsp; Jazelle shuddered, and closed her eyes.<br><br>For a moment, she let herself remember what it had been like.&nbsp; If she were taken, would she remember anything of being herself, of being a free-willed being?&nbsp; Or would they strip that from her and return her to the roiling mass of hunger and need and precious little else?&nbsp; Pleasure and pain, often so intermingled that it became difficult to know where one ended and another began ... the moments of being exalted for some small success until resentment settled in and robbed away any fleeting joy.&nbsp; The lash, the torture, for failure ... the seething jealousies ...<br><br>Why had she been spared?&nbsp; Was she fooling herself that she had escaped, or had they allowed it ... simply so they could take it from her when it suited them, a rare treat of suffering served ice cold?<br><br>The demoness sighed, and closed her eyes as she folded down upon the bed with crossed legs, employing the meditative pose that she had learned early in her first days of freedom.&nbsp; The hunger was .. quiet, oddly quiescent.&nbsp; For that reason, Jazelle distrusted the change even as she welcomed it.&nbsp; It seemed almost certain that Duncan was responsible for it -- her oath, perhaps?&nbsp; Or was this, too, some artifact of the momentous events she suspected would unfold.<br><br>Either way, it did not matter.&nbsp; Here she was, and here she would stay, to take part in this battle.&nbsp; If she had learned anything over the course of her freedom, it was that everyone chose sides, and even the choice not to choose was a choice in itself.&nbsp; Time showed little mercy to those who attempted to dance on the edge of a blade for too long.&nbsp; She had chosen, and she would bear the price.<br><br>In time, she was again calm.&nbsp; With a serene face, she washed and dressed herself carefully, donning the white off-the shoulder gown that was the formal dress of the people whom she had chosen to represent.&nbsp; Around her neck was a golden necklace, the opaque, milky gem in its setting bearing subtle magic to conceal her nature from prying eyes.&nbsp; After a moment of thought, she chose a leather band from 'her' jewel case and fastened it round her wrist.&nbsp; The king might scoff, initially, at seeing it, but she thought Valerian would understand the symbolism.<br><br>It was amusing how small decisions raced down hill like a snowball, gathering mass and distance until it's decent was a roaring landslide that caught up all in its path, carrying it along or burying it.<br><br>She left her room, not bothering with locks, and went in search of her general, following the trail that she could sense like a spider's iridescent, shimmering web laid out before her.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"Not quite, but close," Mercy agreed, her smile remaining devilish despite the faint seriousness her words carried.<br><br>He suggested that he had converted, and the priestess' eyes focused, sharply, as she studied his features and looked as deep as her wisdom could peer into the emotions that prompted his declaration.&nbsp; Perhaps he had, though she doubted that he truly understood what it was to worship ... not yet, but perhaps it was a start.&nbsp; Whatever his irreverences, Mercy's faith that her god would have his champion was absolute. <br><br>It would be nice, for a change, to have a champion willing to accept the guidance of his priestess, to understand the dual roles.&nbsp; Lucius had that in him, that potential, she could feel it, taste it, almost smell it coming off him like the delicious odor of their coupling the night before.&nbsp; Had her god not Chosen him yet?&nbsp; Was it still in doubt, or did she merely wait for Lucas to accept the choice made?<br><br>No matter.&nbsp; Her course, for the moment, was the same either way.<br><br>"Is this not priestly?" she asked after a moment, glancing down at her attire. &nbsp;"I suppose I should then dress in garments better suited for mourning, to clasp my hair so tightly that my eyes look as if sleep is a lifetime away, to trade my boots ... <strong>no.</strong>&nbsp; The boots stay.&nbsp; I kick ass in these boots, and they make my ass look great.&nbsp; I can look priestly wearing these boots."&nbsp; Mercy's head gave an emphatic little nod, deciding the issue.<br><br>Almost as an afterthought, she answered the question that he had almost asked.&nbsp; "All of them -- save for an unfortunate few who have shuffled off this mortal coil and have gone to their .... whatever."&nbsp; It was not, precisely, a number, but she did not hide the fact that she had had many lovers, and she could, should she wish, find them again at need.&nbsp; It came in handy sometimes, and there was a lover or two that she had taken JUST to have a line on someone who needed keeping an eye on in an oblique sort of way.&nbsp; <br><br>Mercy followed Lucius through the hallway, lengthening her steps to somewhat match his stride.&nbsp; This thing for tall men ... she wondered if Valerian might be persuaded to part with some little trinket that would hasten her gait.&nbsp; It would certainly come in handy IF Lucius was her god's chosen.&nbsp; Perhaps they could strike a bargain once this little matter was handled.<br><br>"Do you need to check in with your General?"<br><br><hr><br>It was hard enough to lead a squadron of soldiers secretly across the countryside -- it was ten times harder to assemble such a force inside a keep and march down its corridors.&nbsp; Their best advantages were determination, discipline, and speed.&nbsp; A presentation in the great hall provided the excuse to muster, a presentation of a military award that conveyed no title, no lands, was no great draw for most bystanders, and yet understandable.<br><br>The trap was ready to be sprung.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>26-04-2015, 14:50:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The walk to the barracks was quick. Lucius was not here, obviously, nor was Duncan surprised by this. Instead, Duncan called up three of his most reliable lieutenants and ordered them to rouse their troops for 'an assignment'. His chosen lieutenants – two men and one woman – looked a little confused at first, but quickly obeyed, saluting their general and setting off immediately to rouse their troops. Duncan had told them to form up in the courtyard... which wasn't far from the entrance to the grand temple. <br><br>It would not be a far walk to get to their destination, then. At least that would appeal to them. But Duncan had purposely not revealed their destination – for he did not know if those that served his lieutenants were completely loyal. It was a terrible thing to suspect one's own men, but men's hearts were so easy to corrupt. For some, it was the feel of gold. For others, it was the promise of power, promotion, and glory.<br><br>And for some, it was a horned beauty with luscious thighs, creamy breasts, and lips that performed magic.<br><br>A blush came over Duncan's face for a moment, and he was momentarily thankful that the lieutenants had already left. He spun on his heel and headed toward his quarters, moving at a full paced march. He hoped the entire way that Jazelle would be there, and he knew there was a conversation he'd have to have with her, even if it was for his own well-being. She wouldn't like it, but that was simply something he couldn't fear.<br><br>As he drew closer to his quarters, his thoughts solely on her, he made it to his door and then suddenly stopped. Unlike her, he didn't have magical or demonic means to know where someone was... especially all of her lovers – current and former. Instead, for him it was instinct, and at that moment, standing in front of his door, he turned his head and peered to his left.<br><br>Coming down the hallway was Lady Alerian, looking every bit as beautiful as that first day he had met 'her'. She approached and he turned and approached her in return, shortening the distance until the stood facing one another. She wore another of her beautiful dresses, this one off the shoulders, revealing expanses of flesh that desperately needed Duncan's lips on them. His mouth dry, his eyes were drawn to her pendant that she wore, a necklace of gold with a milky white gem set into it that reminded him of her skin. Her -real- skin, milky white, enough so that he often wanted to -drink- her. <br><br>He stood before her, the two of them in privacy for a moment as he reached forward with both of his hands to take hers. Duncan didn't care who saw him holding her hands now. He didn't care what anyone thought anymore. If this was the form she was to wear while she was here, he refused to avoid being near it. Let the people think what they wanted – it would certainly not be out of place for a general to bed a visiting dignitary from an allied nation.<br><br>“Jazelle,” he spoke softly, almost deciding against saying the words he -needed- to say. His hands gently squeezed hers. “Now that we're alone... I can ask you more directly... to -please-... remain in my quarters as we do this thing,” he said, quickly continuing before she could shut him down. “Call it being overprotective, overbearing... or just stupid. Yes, you know that I care about you. And yes, I understand – at least to some degree – the constant danger you find yourself in, being in this situation, being the type of... freed... creature that you are,” he said. “But if we find what we think we might find down there, then he... -it-... might have the power to undo the freedom you've enjoyed.... and I would not have that,” he said. <br><br>Duncan couldn't claim to know the details about 'what' she was, and the entire 'freedom' benefit she enjoyed. Yes, the wizard had given a brief description, but Duncan hadn't spent hours discussing it with Jazelle – at least not yet – and so his understanding of it was quite limited. But he knew that a demon lord – or whatever might be operating within the confines of this place – was quite powerful, and if this lord were to capture Jazelle – her suffering would be far greater than anything Duncan or Lucius would endure... and Duncan didn't need to be a wizard to understand -that- much.<br><br>But one thing Duncan -definitely- understood was the depth of his affection for her, and the drive to protect her was as strong as any he had ever felt. He knew she might refuse him and even grow angry with him, but better that than the possibility of losing her.<br><br>Forever.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div>'Not quite, but close...' THAT was her reply? Obviously the woman doubted his word, and Lucius made a mental note to give her a personal demonstration sometime in the near future to prove that his words were true!<br><br>Lucius's irreverences, of course, had not been intentioned to slight her or her deity. He'd be half speaking out of his desire for her, of course, and he figured she'd know that. But damn... if she were to promise herself to him, he'd worship whatever god she wanted him to. Lucius wasn't a pious man by any means, and in Mercy's case, that probably meant she didn't look upon him as fondly as she might were he an acolyte of this deity of hers. <br><br>Perhaps he needed to reconsider. After all, there had to be -some- deity that he should be thanking for bringing her into his life!<br><br>She retorted against his words about her manner of dress. He gave her a wry look in response, especially when she suggested dressing as if she were in mourning, clasping her hair up tight to her head and all that look that nuns often wore. She refused to give up her boots, though, and he chuckled at that. He gave her a little shrug, then – he had no wish to tell her how to dress. He gave her a suggestion, and she didn't seem keen on following it. Personally – he preferred her just as she was, anyway.<br><br>She answered his question about locating her lovers, and he felt a slight sour taste in his mouth all of a sudden. He did not doubt that she had had many lovers, and that did not unnerve him. Nor did the prospect that she might actually use that ability when she had an itch to be scratch or an urge to be filled. Nature was what nature was. It was simply a faint, momentary hope that he was... -different- to her in some way. -Special-. The dashing of that momentary hope was quick and ruthless, but he gave no outward sign of it, other than going quiet for the time being.<br><br>Lucius quietly walked at a quick pace, eager to be on with this business they had resigned themselves to. When she suggested checking in with the General,&nbsp; he turned his head to look at her, blinked a couple times, then nodded.<br><br>“That is a good idea. We can inform him of our plan, and he can tell us his. That way, we can hopefully meet-up somewhere in the middle... if all goes well,” he said with a grin, then altered his course for Duncan's quarters....<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>29-04-2015, 17:17:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>When she had first known freedom, Jazelle had been both fascinated and confused by human emotions.&nbsp; &nbsp;It had seemed that was the apex of the grand divide that separated them from demonkind, a barrier that could never be fully crossed.<br><br>And yet, slowly, she had come to understand more, and in the understanding, the towering barrier had shrunk.&nbsp; Demons were certainly capable of emotion - anger, hatred, satisfaction, pride, exultation, fear ... and they could feel these things with violent intensity that was surely no less than any mortal capacity.<br><br>So, too, did she discover that there were gentler emotions that she could experience, though putting a name to them did not come quickly, and, at first, they were quick to retreat.&nbsp; In retrospect, it seemed as if she had experienced them in the manner of a child, a fledgling ... reaching out, touching, jerking her fingers away at the unfamiliar sensation ... and then reaching out once more as curiosity, the desire to know, outweighed the fear and uncertainty of the unfamiliar.<br><br>Could a demon feel love?&nbsp; Duncan had asked that of her in the course of their 'game', and she had not been able to answer with certainty.&nbsp; She had not known herself, though her fingers had reached out and brushed the concept.&nbsp; &nbsp;With each touch, her hesitation to reach out, to seek more of the experience, had faded.&nbsp; As they closed the distance between them by mundane means, Jazelle discovered that she now knew the answer to that question of a certainty.<br><br>He reached for her, their fingers meeting halfway, entwining, skin against skin.&nbsp; She felt the power of the touch as strongly as the first, perhaps more so because of the memories of the touches between ... how long ago it seemed, with so much passing between them.&nbsp; She would have liked to pursue that thought, study the fluidity between time and experience, but ... such curiosities would have to wait.<br><br>Jazelle listened as he entreated her to stay behind, to let him face the danger without her ... he, who had spent the bulk of his already short lifespan placing himself in the way of harm, who would live at best ... without intervention ... a mere fraction of the time she had already spent in freedom.&nbsp; Her instinct was to refuse.&nbsp; Yet, looking into his dark eyes, seeing the earnestness there and his concern, it was as hard to refuse him anything he asked of her as it had been to turn him away when he had asked ...<br><br><em>"I, too, have a duty, Duncan.&nbsp; Bertrand is not my king, but he has been an ally, as has Valerian.&nbsp; They have involved me in this matter, and brought me to you ... and thus you to me ... because I have unique knowledge of the threat you face.&nbsp; While I would refuse you nothing you asked of me if it were my will alone ..." </em> Her fingers around his tightened, held, as did her gaze into his eyes.<br><br><em>"But ... there is a way.&nbsp; Carry me with you, my general.&nbsp; Allow me to ... bind myself to your senses for a time.&nbsp; I could then remain in your quarters, and yet know all that comes to pass.&nbsp; If I am needed, or the danger you fear does not materialize, then it would take but an instant to call me to you."</em><br><br>He had already given her his trust to an extent she had not truly believed possible ... but this was a step beyond, something that she thought even Valerian would hesitate to do. <br><br><hr><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Something in their conversation had sobered Lucius, or perhaps he had just ran headlong into the gravity of the situation they faced.&nbsp; In some ways, she regretted it -- for his irreverence and irrepressible humor was very much a welcome change from the dour intensity of a goodly portion of the warriors and priests that she encountered.&nbsp; Yet, it was good to see that he was capable of more silence and introspection -- for she equated the two.&nbsp; &nbsp; Strength and adaptability, of both mind and body, was an important factor of one of Phaenix's Chosen, and more and more Mercy was hoping that her suspicions in that area were correct.<br><br>It would be a welcome change.&nbsp; The last two had been strong of body and strong of mind, but their very strength had become a liability as they allowed their strength to fuse into an unbending, set course.&nbsp; Those that do not bend, especially in the tumultuous times that would come with the rising of her god, break ... and the more rigid the forging, the more violent the shattering.<br><br>She did not wish to see Lucius shatter, or fold.&nbsp; If he were, indeed, Chosen ...<br><br>The priestess was almost afraid to allow herself to hope as strongly as her inclinations demanded.&nbsp; It was not her place to judge her god's choices, or to demand them.&nbsp; <br><br>He was also amenable to reasonable suggestion ... and that alone doubled his worth in her eyes.<br><br>She returned his smile.&nbsp; "Think he will mind if I 'borrow' his bedroom again?&nbsp; I can get changed there and make sure I'm all 'geared up'.&nbsp; And there are a few tricks I have up my sleeves ... that can add a little more bite to those ready to beard the lion in its den.&nbsp; You get first pick, though, because I have a rather ... personal ... interest in making sure you don't get mauled, mangled, or violated ... at least not by anyone other than me."<br><br>Mercy gave him another little smile as she quickened her steps.&nbsp; Well, there was an advantage to liking tall men -- keeping up with them made sure she never got fat ... or maybe it was the demon blood that did that.&nbsp; Either way, she wasn't going to complain.<br><br>"That reminds me," she said, not bothering to explain what she had been thinking, "is there a kitchen we can raid on the way?&nbsp; I seem to have skipped a meal or two, unless you count your general's rather impressive licquor."&nbsp; Her mother didn't seem to need to eat ... food, that is ... but half-demons did not feed upon desire, or even great sex, alone.
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				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>30-04-2015, 09:30:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>The way they entwined and enmeshed their fingers together was so sensual, it had -almost- made Duncan forget the words he intended to speak. Even in this form though she was beautiful, had he looked up into her milky-white eyes, he most certainly would have forgotten himself, but as it was, he was able to remember. He spoke earnestly - but above all, respectfully. He did not doubt that she possessed power, but she also possessed something -incredibly- rare for her kind, based on the impression he had from her description. A demon, not to mention a succubus, was as 'free' from the abyss as she could be, and he feared that confronting a 'greater power' might lead to her losing that... and that was more terrifying to him than the prospect of her own destruction.<br><br>Thankfully - she did not take it ill at all. When she replied, he let out a slow, quiet breath of relief, which he had not realized he had been holding. He hoped that her gentle response was because she knew that he simply cared for her. Any man in love with a woman would try to protect her, whether she was a ninety pound weakling unable to lift a dagger, or the world's greatest warrioress. Duncan knew she was not defenseless, but his protective nature could not be suspended just because of what she was.<br><br>Instead of being angry or sore with him, she proposed a counteroffer that he listened to carefully. She explained that she had a duty to Bertrand and Valerian. She even reminded him that it was through them that Duncan had met Jazelle... and he wondered, briefly, if that had been apart of the plan all along. But his mind was already moving on, hearing her reminder about the knowledge of her own kind that she possessed - which was far more a powerful thing than all of Valerian's duty tomes put together. <br><br>Her hands tightened as she reminded him, too, that if it were her will alone to give him something he desired, she would. His mind was briefly visited by images of naked flesh, horns, and moans amongst piles of carelessly torn sheets... but quickly he dismissed those images - they would have to wait, as she spoke again, offering him the compromise he had hoped there might be. The suggestion sounded perfect, and even before she finished he was nodding his head, and sighing with relief. "That sounds reasonable enough," he said, smiling briefly, "And I thank you for... humoring my concern. I know that it is -likely- unnecessary... but...," he shrugged slightly. <br><br>"To my quarters, then," he said, though he didn't move quite yet, and cast a glance at two noble-looking folks, a man and a woman, who walked by, smiling and nodding their greetings, calling him by his title. Duncan nodded and smiled back, and as they walked away he turned his gaze back to Jazelle. "Though you will need to help me resist... temptations, if you come with me now," he said, his voice lower and meant for her ears alone.<br><br>And without waiting, he turned and gently began to guide her toward his quarters, which weren't far away at all.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>"Do I think that Duncan would mind if a beautiful woman borrowed his bedroom in which to change her clothes? I would have to say..... no. I don't think he would mind that at ALL, whether he's madly in love with your mother or not," Lucius chuckled. "He will likely try to peek, too, if he thinks he can get away with it. Don't let his 'dutiful, honorable' exterior fool you. The man is a demon when it comes to women... I mean, not a demon like... like a -demon-, but... you know what I mean," he said with a faint shrug of his shoulders.<br><br>"But I have to admit, I am curious about these 'tricks' you have, especially with me having first pick. That definitely sounds... entertaining, unless of course you mean it in a completely serious way," he added, teasing her a bit as they walked. He was certainly curious, despite the return of his levity and humorous demeanor. "But knowing you have an interest in my well-being definitely affords me a level of confidence that I feel I could use almost like a coat of armor," he chuckled. "Though it's nice to know that -someone- out there cares what happens to me," he added, turning his head sideways for a moment, long enough to give her a playful wink.<br><br>In response to her serious inquiry about food, he nodded. "Once we're at his quarters, we can summon a servant easily enough to fetch food while you are getting ready. If Duncan is already there - which I doubt, though - he might already have food prepared. But either way, we'll get you some sustenance, no problem," he assured her, as they continued on at a brisk pace, one which made her almost have to jog or skip to keep up. Soon enough, though, they stood once again before Duncan's chamber doors. Without delay, Lucius lit up the door with a serious of knocks, and when no answer or response was forthcoming, he shrugged and reached up to simply open the door and step inside, waiting for Mercy to follow him before closing it.<br><br>"He might be awhile, if he's still talking to Bertrand, or gods forbid, Valerian. The wizard can be a bit... long-winded at times," Lucius sniggered, the gently took her hand and headed for the doorway he knew led to the bedroom. "A place to change, as promised. Was there anything specific you wanted to eat? I'll tell the servant to bring whatever you want."<br><br>After receiving your wishes, he left her the and headed into the living area, where he pulled on a slender rope near the wall by the fireplace. it didn't take but just a few minutes until there was a knock at the door. Lucius saw to it, answering it and meeting the young man. Voicing his food request, including whatever Mercy herself had indicated as her desire, Lucius send the young man on his way. <br><br>Walking back down the hallway, he stopped at the closed doors to Duncan's bedroom, and called out loud enough for Mercy to hear him past the closed doors. <br><br>"Need any help in there?" he called out playfully. After all, what was Lucius, if not helpful to a woman in need?<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-04-2015, 23:49:29</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Humans, and many other creatures, valued cut stones, their brilliance magnified by tiny, calculating cuts that captured the light and bathed it, transformed it, by the stone's hues.&nbsp; She had seen the lowest to the highest lose themselves following the bouncing of those beautiful sparkles of light, hypnotized by the complex patterns.&nbsp; It had taken some time for the succubus to see those same sorts of dazzling patterns, traps for thought and emotion, in the workings of life all around her.<br><br>The brilliance of it was far more than any simple stone could endure.<br><br>As Duncan agreed to allow her to accompany him in such a way that he could protect her, or so he thought, Jazelle gently extracted the fingers of one hand from his and reached up to run the outsides of those cupped fingers along his cheek as she stared into his eyes, seeing the reflection of this fair form she wore and a myriad of subtly hued sparks beneath that surface.&nbsp; What others might see, she imagined, was a man and woman expressing tender feelings for one another, with no greater import in the gesture than thoughts of who might thwart their bond, what distance or obligation stood in their way.&nbsp; Perhaps they were closer to the truth than she dared allow herself to consider.<br><br>All Jazelle knew was that she did not wish to deny her general anything ... were it in her power to provide.&nbsp; Was this love?&nbsp; Was this what had driven her daughter to near madness when it was lost?&nbsp; Would madness be her fate if ...<br><br>Jazelle stayed her thoughts, her gentle smile revealing nothing of her own unsettled state.&nbsp; Confusion was not a permanent state of affairs -- al<em>ways before, she had come to an understanding of the new challenges, the new adventures, that had awaited her.&nbsp; This, she assured herself, would be no different.&nbsp; "It is not in my nature, my general, to urge you to resist temptation, unless it is in favor of an even greater lure dangled from my fingertips." </em> As close as they were, she had no doubt that he could hear her whisper, soft as it was.&nbsp; Even if he could not, surely he would know, and recognize, the hunger in her eyes, no matter how well disguised.<br><br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"I think you may be underestimating ... or over-estimating ... your commander, Lucius.&nbsp; Were he to walk in on me in a state of full undress with a blade in each hand, I do believe he would put out his own eyes in his haste to cover them." &nbsp;Mercy gave a crooked, amused little smile at the thought, remembering how her mother's lover seemed to cast his eyes anywhere but at her ... he had certainly not been 'peeking' when Lucius carried her in naked, dripping wet from the baths.<br><br>"I think he would prefer to think of me as sexless, devoid of breasts and hips and all in-between, since I sprang from that place he now desires to enter."&nbsp; Mercy's smile was devilish, and she only regretted that she had not yet had the opportunity to make such an observation in the general's hearing.<br><br>Ah well, perhaps once the most immediate business had been dealt with, she would avail herself of as much teasing and tormenting as her mother's lover could endure ... without incurring her mother's wrath.&nbsp; As funny as it seemed, Mercy had the idea that Jazelle would not look kindly upon anyone discomforting General Vanzelle too severely, even her own daughter.&nbsp; &nbsp; It was, Mercy thought, about time ... and wished her joy of the interesting times ahead if her suspicions were correct.&nbsp; She only hoped that disappointment did not follow.<br><br>"Ah, the joys of mooching off nobility," Mercy murmured, her stomach rumbling now that she had put other things aside long enough to remember there were other hungers that needed feeding.&nbsp; She needed little urging to quicken her steps, and soon they were back where they had begun.&nbsp; "Such a plethora of opportunity at one's beck and call."<br><br>"Meat.&nbsp; Bread.&nbsp; Cheese.&nbsp; Did I mention meat?&nbsp; Eggs are good too." &nbsp;Mercy didn't sound particularly choosy about what she ate.&nbsp; "Whatever's fast, and substantial.&nbsp; I have the feeling that there's going to be a lot going on for a while, and getting all woozy from hunger is probably a good way not to survive it."<br><br>Someone had done a pretty good job of cleaning up while they were gone, and Mercy felt just a tiny bit of guilt over the abuse of hospitality, but not enough to slow her down.&nbsp; After a few moments' thought, she traded her gear for a clean pair of pants and a tunic, both black -- something that didn't show blood was properly opportune given the circumstance -- and her cloak.&nbsp; Thankfully, part of the tricks up her sleeve included a way to thwart the inconveniences of traveling light.&nbsp; Her thick cloak would help disguise Phaenix's holy symbol, and she had an accessory or two -- including one she had employed to fool the priests the day before -- that would further help.<br><br>When Lucius called out at the door, she stopped digging through her pack and smiled, calculating just how long they might have before food, or the room's rightful owner, showed up.<br><br>She opened the door, and half turned so that she could present her back to Lucius as she turned her head and smiled provocatively at him over one shoulder.&nbsp; "I COULD use some help undoing these laces," she offered.&nbsp; "IF you're looking for something to occupy your time, and hands, until the food gets here."<br><br>Living dangerously made life worth living, after all.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>02-05-2015, 10:17:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan had to assume Jazelle was up to something. Granted, they had just 'compromised' together, each of them supposedly getting a piece of something they desired, but she was a full-blooded demon, and he knew for a fact that she was used to getting precisely what she wanted. -Always-.<br><br>He wondered to himself if that was a large reason why she was attracted to him: he had been able to resist her... at least, for a time. She hadn't gotten what she wanted, at least not strictly speaking, when they first met. Indeed, he had even challenged her – and won. But it had also crossed his mind that, perhaps, her losing that challenge was still part of some 'plan', even though he chastised himself for such thoughts – and paranoia. He wanted so badly to believe that she held affection for him – genuine affection for him that went beyond him simply being another 'distraction' in a long line of 'distractions'. But wanting it so badly would not make it 'true', if it simply wasn't.<br><br>Jazelle raised a hand to cup his cheek, which of course made him wonder if he had still fallen into her plans and wishes, even though he had -thought- he had gained some small victory during their momentary and brief 'negotiation'. How many other lovers had sworn to 'protect her', when in fact, it was she who had protected them? He, too, knew what others might think when passing them by, showing small displays of affection to each other even if it was simply in the way they looked at each other. But if he showed signs of caring if anyone saw, he did not show it.<br><br>She smiled at him, and for a moment he thought it had a bit of mischief to it, but her following words caught his attention quickly. She explained how it wasn't in her nature to urge him to resist temptation – unless it was in favor of another larger temptation, dangling from her fingertips.<br><br>Duncan looked at her for a long moment, thinking those words over in his mind before replying. “You do make the most enticing lure and temptation, Jazelle. One that you know I can rarely resist,” he admitted. He raised a hand up to brush along her jawline on the opposite side of his that she was touching, so to passersby, they were caressing one another's cheeks. “And one day... I promise that I shall grow skilled at doing the same in return to you,” he smiled, his own definitely playful. “I will learn from the -best- teacher I can think of, after all,” he added. Then slowly he leaned in for what most would consider a chaste – but incredibly touching kiss on the lips.<br><br>“And I must admit... I am quickly finding this form... to be my second favorite,” he added, winking at her. “But I suppose your being in another form is a good thing, as it... protects you. If I were to see you in your -true- form right now... I'd have you up against that wall – nailing you to it like a painting.”<br><br>His hand pulled away from her face, but his other hand remained gently clasped in hers, and casually he guided her away – never taking his eyes from her.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Lucius snorted as Mercy began to describe what she thought Duncan would do, should he catch her nude in his bedroom. It was obvious that she didn't know Duncan AT ALL! Maybe she knew men previously who would do as she described – silly men who didn't know any better – but Duncan? Absolutely -not- what she was describing.<br><br>“No, lover... I think -you- are underestimating -him-. I guarantee you, if he came across you in his bedroom naked as you described, he'd be betwixt your thighs before you could gasp... -UNLESS-... Jazelle was watching,” he said, raising a single index finger as if he were Valerian teaching some great and powerful spell to an apprentice. “That is a huge difference. It is not your relationship to his current lover that he is watchful of – it is the eye of a possibly very angry succubus that keeps him at bay, I assure you. I can clearly remember him leaving a party a few years back with an older woman... AND her young daughter. I assure you, such an arrangement is not beyond him, so the only thing holding him at bay is the possibility of angering a powerful demon.”<br><br>Luscius smiled smugly, and then shrugged. “And in that regard, I suppose I should be grateful, for I would be insanely jealous if he were to make such an attempt, and even more jealous if he should succeed,” Lucius admitted, though his voice and demeanor were as playful again as ever. “But I promise you – that man does not miss -any- hips, or breasts, or any of it in between if it is presented to him in such a way.” And Lucius smiled back at her, matching her devilish grin.<br><br>Lucius raised a brow at her prospect of mooching off the nobility. He chuckled – and nodded. “I love doing it, myself. Sure, I am technically something of a noble, myself, yet there are always nobles -above- me who are in dire need of needing mooching from. Take for example my dearest friend. That drink we shared last night? It had likely been sitting in his pantry for -months-. That, my lover, is a man with a drink stash that needs to be... 'freshened up'... every now and again,” he nodded sagely.<br><br>Her food order came across much more serious, and so Lucius was serious. He matched the mood with ease, it seemed, growing serious when needed, playful and carefree when not. He nodded in understanding when she listed what she'd like. “Understood, and all those things are quite common, so it won't be any severe effort, I promise.”<br><br>She disappeared into Duncan's bedroom... and his mind raced over the scenario she had described. Duncan, walking into that bedroom to find Mercy in the middle of changing, nude and bare. -Would- Duncan be his old self, his mast rising to full strength just from looking at her, then pursuing her if no other eyes were about? And more importantly... would Mercy submit to such enticement and invitation?<br><br>Lucius was surprised by how much it -burned- him, inside, to think of Mercy smiling at Duncan the way she smiled at him. That burning turned into an inferno when he thought of Mercy spreading her thighs for Duncan – as close a friend as he was – and he had to force himself to rid his mind of such images. No, he didn't 'own' Mercy, nor did she 'belong' to him. Lucius knew he was simply her current 'bit of fun'... and every other time, that wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. So why did it bother him now?<br><br>The funny thing was – he didn't blame Duncan at all. What man -wouldn't- want a taste of Mercy? Any man with eyes that could see, would desire such a thing. Lucius was certain that even Bertrand and Valerian were pondering that exact thing, at least once, at least for a few seconds... The wanting, the desire, the lust... all of that was completely normal. But what wasn't normal, was Lucius's reaction to it. He knew he was being stupid.<br><br>In an effort to forget such thoughts, he called out to her at the doors to Duncan's room. A playful offer to help her... or a reassuring call out to her, just to make sure Duncan hadn't somehow snuck in?<br><br>Her answer, though, made him smile.<br><br>Lucius opened the doors and stepped in to find her turning away from him, looking at him over one shoulder. From this angle, he got an eyeful of curves and contours that very much attracted him to her in the first place. With his playful smirk on his face, he casually moved forward, hands raising up to the laces on her back.<br><br>“I am glad to assist, of course,” he said smoothly, and one of his hands worked on the laces, but the other... seemed to 'get lost'... moving to the side... grazing lightly along her back, beneath her arm... caressing the side of one of her clothed breasts. His other hand skillfully unlaced the back of her outfit tunic, eager to help her get it off her body, if that was her goal...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-05-2015, 19:54:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Had Jazelle been able to glean thoughts without the use of magic, she would have likely been mightily amused at Duncan's.&nbsp; &nbsp;Demons differed from humans in many ways, but one of those ways was a certain predisposition in the hierarchy for like to breed like.&nbsp; There were stupid demons, certainly, and demons that were easily tricked by any with half a brain ... but they were the lowest order of demons.&nbsp; Amongst the higher orders, if any were begotten or created that lacked mental faculties, they invariably did not exist long enough to advertise their shortcomings.&nbsp; &nbsp;Among the orders, there were, occasionally, demons who possessed more cunning, more cleverness, more wit than was expected -- but unless their talent included the ability to disguise this fact, they lasted little longer than their stupid counterparts.<br><br>Jazelle had been such a demon, and she had grown skilled in her plotting and scheming, designing layered, intricate plans for her own amusement.&nbsp; She could often find holes in her master's plans, loopholes through which clever prey could defeat him, and she had been wise enough to advantage herself in small ways.&nbsp; It was this that had, ultimately, led to her freedom, in the wisdom to seize an unheard-of opportunity ...<br><br>The discipline that she had embraced to retain her freedom had sharpened her skills, but she had set aside good sense in the acceptance of Duncan's wager, gambled upon something that she still did not quite understand.<br><br>Duncan was wise to question; but the lesson that she was just beginning to learn was one that her daughter already knew.&nbsp; Love, like anger,&nbsp; often defies all wisdom, and it cares little for plans conceived and forged with the mind.<br><em><br>"That is my nature, my general."&nbsp; </em>Had she a mind, she could have told him that he was already skilled ... but the most skilled one yet was, she thought, his king.&nbsp; Only now was Jazelle beginning to suspect that she had been duped, and led, as easily as she had oft led others.&nbsp; Perhaps she should have been angry at that, but instead, she found herself ... feeling almost proud.&nbsp; The Bertrand she had first encountered had barely been able to keep his head above water.&nbsp; Did that not reflect upon her skill, now that he could swim with the sharks?<br><br>Her breath stopped entirely as Duncan leaned in to kiss her, eyes closing so that she could savor the moment with her other senses all the more fully.&nbsp; As kisses went, it was barely one at all - his lips barely moving against hers, just enough to cling sweetly, like a grape pulled from the vine at the peak of ripeness.&nbsp; Why it quieted the first rousing of her hungers rather than inflame, she was not certain ... she was only certain that should any offer Duncan harm, be they demon lord or king, wizard or knave, nothing would stay her wrath.<br><em><br>"In time, perhaps we shall find a third favorite, and a fourth, and fifth.&nbsp; It would suit me well to leave no room in your thoughts, or your desires, for any other."&nbsp; </em>The temptation to see if he truly meant what he said was great, a temptation that surely no demon could resist ... without some greater reward beckoning from a distance.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>Lucius assured Mercy that only the wrath of her mother would prevent her seduction, or willing ravishment, at his general's hands ... or other parts.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy wondered if he were trying to convince her, or himself ... but for her part, she had seen Duncan squirm away from the more overt displays of her nature, like a worm attempting to evade a fishhook.&nbsp; He had not done so surreptitiously, with regret, but rather as if the mere thought were like dancing upon the surface of a hot stove.<br><br>The priestess took no offense, or challenge, from that as she might otherwise.&nbsp; She did rather like the notion of the warrior stating that he would be jealous if his general succeeded in having her, though she took it with an entire shaker of salt.&nbsp; &nbsp; Her 'uhm hmmm' was skeptical, as was her look, but she was happy to let it pass without further comment.<br><br>"So we are being unselfish to help the general rotate his stock, is that it?&nbsp; Are you sure you have no calling for the priesthood, Lucius?&nbsp; You would have your entire flock fleeced in no time at all, I wager, bare of even the trace of wool ... and have them all eagerly dispensing with any notion of chastity in the process."<br><br>Food was ordered, more sober attire suitable for moving undetected for what she truly was was found -- as well as, perhaps, attire that would keep from scandalizing Lucius' parents -- though she rather figured that if they weren't immune to being scandalized already, they certainly had been worn down.<br><br>Mercy's demon blood, and the inherent love of mischief that she had let run free once there was no longer any reason to keep it contained, came to the forefront in her acceptance of Lucius' help.&nbsp; She figured that it was only a matter of time until Duncan returned to his quarters, looking for them, and whither Duncan went, she had little doubt that her mother would follow.<br><br>Quite aside from her own pleasure at having Lucius' hands returned to their body, where they fit as if they had been carved for just such a purpose, she relished the notion of her mother and the august warrior with such a history discovering them in flagrante delicto ... again.&nbsp; Laughter, and innocent pleasure -- or perhaps 'natural' pleasure was a more apt description -- was sure to be absent for all for them, even with Lucius' irrepressible nature -- for some time, as they dealt with treason, heresy, and the worst kind of consorting with demons.<br><br>The irony would have been amusing, had it not been so depressing.&nbsp; Truly, there were demons, and then there were 'demons'.&nbsp; Before this was over, she only hoped that both Lucius and Duncan could still tell the difference.<br><br>Her heart had been broken before -- but she had the suspicion that her mother was only now discovering that she had a heart.&nbsp; Mercy hoped that it would not be a discovery that she would bitterly regret.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>06-05-2015, 10:22:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle confirmed that it was simply her nature that they spoke of and referred to. He had described her in some way, whether intentionally or not, and she was simply agreeing with the assessment. Making herself alluring and irresistible... it was simply who she was. He almost wondered if she could -make- an unpleasing appearance to wear, one that would frighten men and children alike. He doubted it, though he knew that surely she couldn't be -that- vain. If the need for such a disguise arose, he was sure she could manage... somehow. At least for a short period of time.<br><br>The kiss was pleasant and sweet, without being overbearing or too suggestive. He desired more - and he knew she'd likely -smell- his desire for her as if he were wearing some sort of pleasant cologne - but he made no move on it, despite the playful threat he posed, knowing that she wouldn't dare shift into her real form for him to fuck against the wall of the keep for any passerby to see.<br><br>But what a sight that would -be-...<br><br>He sighed to himself at the thought of it for a moment as Jazelle began to speak again, as the two of them turned and began to walk in the direction of his quarters. She explained that they might find a third favorite form, and a fourth, and a fifth. While that thought sent tingles racing down to parts of his body that enjoyed them, some part of him still felt that was... somehow unfaithful to her. Not that he could 'be' unfaithful to a demon. They were not married. Hell, they weren't even betrothed or 'sworn' to each other... were they? He knew how he felt about her... but despite her soft words of affection now and again, he was not entirely sure she felt the same way - or perhaps simply not near to the same depth. Was she even -capable- of it? How would he know? How would -she- know?<br><br>He smiled back at her, though, and nodded. "I suppose one such as myself would be worthy of your... 'harem'...," he said, barely able to keep from laughing. The idea sounded silly... a 'harem of one', it would be, surely. She had explained it in a similar fashion. No matter the woman's appearance beneath him - it would still be Jazelle. And even now, as his mind raced with possibilities, it still felt odd... Jazelle truly didn't seem to care -what- she looked like before him or anyone else, as long as the appearance met her requirements of the moment.<br><br>But as they walked, Jazelle would easily notice one very distinct thing... Duncan's eyes continued to periodically gaze at various sections of wall-spaces that they passed, as if sizing them up...<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Mercy's response was obviously an indication that she was not at all confident in his answer. This caused Lucius to raise a brow - who would know Duncan better - Mercy, who had known him all of a day or two, and just with a few short conversations - or Lucius, who had spilled blood beside him, served him, hunted women with him, even shared women with him? They were like brothers, him and Duncan, and Lucius was SURE that his assessment of Duncan's 'urges' was pretty accurate.<br><br>"Don't sell yourself short," Lucius said with a wry grin. "Your mother isn't the only one with demon blood coursing through her veins. But we don't need to find out what would really happen in such a situation or anything, so it doesn't really matter afterall," he said, the sound of his voice making it almost obvious that he was trying to convince himself more than anything else.<br><br>Lucius smiled widely, though, when Mercy suggested they were being helpful to the general in rotating his stock of high-priced and high-quality spirits. She teased him about having a calling for the priesthood, and went on to provide him with her supposed prediction of how his 'priestly manner' would unfold with his 'flock'.<br><br>"Oh no, I think I would make a -terrible- priest," he said with a slight groan. "I am too much the hedonist. Someone would tell me, 'Lucius, you must tend to your flock'! and my first course of action would be to look over that flock to see which women would be chosen for 'confession'. Such confessionals would be done at the tip of a tongue, instead of a whip, yet in the end - I would get them to confess all the same," he teased back. "And most definitely, chastity would not in any way, shape or form be encouraged. In fact, it would be -forbidden-," he said, then furrowed his brow. "Can a priest -do- that? Forbid chastity? Hmmm... it's worth considering..."<br><br>Then, with food ordered and Mercy looking to change clothes - with Lucius's help - the ever friendly and helpful warrior was more than happy to oblige. He moved up behind Mercy, unlacing laces, gently sliding straps over her smooth skin. More than once, his hands slid around to her front, gently groping her breasts, fingernails running along skin, and more than once he muttered soft, husky, "Ooops", just behind her ear where his lips hovered. He was even so helpful that his hands moved to the material of her breeches, as well, seeking to help her out of those, too. After all, he was so very 'thorough' with his assistance.<br><br>Lucius obviously loved touching her, as witnessed by the way he used every excuse he could muster to do just that. But he also knew that with this woman - any moment could be the last moment he was able to do so. He knew he should take every opportunity to do so - even now, as she was attempting to 'change clothes'... and he was merely attempting to 'help' her. His mouth found her neck - just another small effort to 'assist', as his teeth found her skin. Surely that would help her, too. His hands worked to move away whatever clothes she had loosened on her body... In his mind, at least, they had only soiled one side of Duncan's bed. That left a whole other side to get to...<br><br>Yes, yes, somewhere in the back of his mind there was something about 'demons' and 'trips below the temple', and 'magical swords' floating around, not to mention, introducing Mercy to his parents which, on the surface, seemed so... surreal. When was the last time he had done that? When he was fifteen? His parents would freak, because 'introducing them' to someone who wasn't an obvious 'fuck buddy' was something he simply didn't do. His father would oggle her, no doubt, quite proud of his son scoring such a beautiful partner, and his mother would shed tears, sure that Mercy was pregnant. What other reason would Lucius have to introduce her to them?<br><br>One thing that their thoughts silently agreed on, though, was that his hands definitely fit her body. Of course, many men probably thought that before, as well, but right now - his hands were the ones on her, touching her softly, having at least some vague idea what -might- just lure her into a very heated - and passionate - 'clothes changing session'.<br><br>Of course, neither knew that Duncan and Jazelle were a handful of minutes away... or that their ordered food would not be far behind. If Lucius was worried about either, he wasn't showing it as his hands moved closer and closer to erogenous zones hat he hoped would bring Mercy more in line to his way of thinking...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>07-05-2015, 19:23:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>It was somewhat amusing that the very thought that Duncan was having so much trouble accepting was likely the primary reason for her kind's existence ... if, of course, one accepted the theory that demon-kind was created by some primal power for purposes of their own, be they malign or benevolent.&nbsp; Though Jazelle had studied the theories somewhat over the years, and had heard the certainties from mortal and demon lips alike, she had decided to leave such ponderings to those such as her daughter.&nbsp; The why did not matter, and even if she had the truth of it, what use would such knowledge be?<br><br>For all their protestations to the contrary, most humans (and demons) craved the spreading of their seed far and wide, and Jazelle had it on reasonable authority that often the chastest of women still let their thoughts play over the concept of taking lovers of variety.&nbsp; This had little to do with love or liking, that she could tell, and perhaps it was true that love supplanted those cravings, or at least made them recognizable for what they were.&nbsp; A harem of one -- a dream for some, so long as they only looked at the surface.&nbsp; Beyond that, what did it matter?&nbsp; Would Jazelle have desired her general any less had he light colored hair and eyes like the sky, if he looked up at her rather than towered above, or had not the strength to wield a bow, much less a blade?<br><br>Perhaps not.&nbsp; It was, to some extent, these traits that had forged the man he was.&nbsp; If he could change his shell, the way that she could, while leaving the rest ... no, she did not think it would matter at all, though the thought did make her realize that if he could, she would not prefer another form, and she would still 'see' him just as he had burned himself into her memory.<br><br>Interesting ... but a subject for pondering some other time, much like Duncan's examination of certain areas of the walls that they passed, evaluating them up various uses.<br><br>As they neared the door to his quarters, Jazelle's serene, slightly amused, expression altered, and her steps came to a halt as she reached out to take Duncan's arm.&nbsp; Her breath escaped in a faint sigh, and her eyes closed -- a perfect, surely, representation of any mother readying herself to offer indulgent apology for the behavior of her offspring.<br><br>With the situation in the keep, Jazelle's senses were alert for certain ... disturbances.&nbsp; Lust, signs of the presence of her kindred, the sort of magics that she possessed a certain sensitivity toward ... She could sense her daughter's presence within, and the heady aura of lust, but of Lucius she could sense nothing at all.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her daughter she detected through blood, and there was no telltale 'magical odor' of demonic presence, so she assumed that Mercy's safeguards were in place.&nbsp; Of Lucius, she could detect nothing at all, save the assumption that he had something to do with the strong indications of lust. <br><br>Also interesting ...<br><br><em>"It seems that we are not the first arrivals to your chamber, Duncan ... and, unless I am deceived ... we shall find those within engaged much as we left them last night.&nbsp; Should this situation continue much longer, might I suggest that it might be simpler to persuade the king to give your second his own quarters nearby?"</em><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Apparently her skepticism was not enough to convince Lucius, and Mercy wondered if the reason was because he did not wish to see any greater attachment between General Vanzelle and her mother than what could be explained by the temporary rush of blood to his loins.&nbsp; He knew the general, but she knew men, and she knew men's eyes when they fell on her.<br><br>She had not been an object of sexual desire for the general - unless his skills at hiding such things were better than most.&nbsp; &nbsp;It had nothing to do with selling herself short, and perhaps she could change his inclinations with effort and determination ... but it suited her better this way.&nbsp; Mercy had long since passed any stage where she sought conquest for the simple thrill of proving to herself that she could succeed.<br><br>General Vanzelle as the one who introduced her mother to an element of sex that she had hitherto been unable to understand because she had not experienced it ... suited Mercy much better than as just another lover.<br><br>"Some think they can ... it all depends upon the loyalty of their followers.&nbsp; I have seen a priest persuade an entire village that they should give over their daughters to his deflowering before they were barely more than buds, and convince them it was the will of their goddess.&nbsp; They were quite devastated when he succumbed to a very sudden illness that rendered him stark, staring mad before it drained the life from him."&nbsp; Mercy's light tone matched Lucius', but something in her eyes was much more serious, with the fire of old anger, as well as satisfaction that provided sign enough that she had likely been involved is the priest's sudden and dramatic fall from grace.<br><br>"Myself, I prefer to let those who would be chaste be so, and those who would not enjoy the sharing of their bodies with whomever they choose, so long as the chaste permit me the same courtesy."<br><br>As if to demonstrate her point, she did not look at all displeased when Lucius' hands strayed from the task of 'helping' her undress.&nbsp; In fact, she purred, murmured, and writhed her approval and encouragement, her hips beginning a slow dance to a music that needed no instrument other than their own bodies, strumming the strings that she had previously noted responded delightfully to her body's caress.<br><br>There was no need to hurry with dressing until the General put in an appearance ... and food, though important, wasn't nearly so important as this.<br><br>"Though if your flock were so inspired by the lash of your tongue as am I, Lucius, they would be kept quite busy committing sins for which to confess."<br><br>He hadn't mentioned needing to change clothes, but perhaps he could be convinced to shed his, if only so that she did not begin feeling lonely and out of place.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>09-05-2015, 13:47:40</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan and Jazelle approached his quarters in time, none the wiser to the events unfolding – yet again – on his own bed. As odd as it might sound, was it possible that his bed was seeing more action from people -other- than its owner? That fact would cause Duncan to laugh, though ultimately, being that it was Lucius involved he would know better than to be shocked.<br><br>Duncan could remember Lucius's first visit to&nbsp; Duncan's lavish quarters. 'Make yourself at home, my friend,' Duncan had said...<br><br>And Lucius had taken him on that a hundred-fold.<br><br>Now, whenever Lucius visited – he acted as if he was at home. He rooted through liquor, used the bathing area, sunned on the balcony.... indeed, he had no hesitation at all dumping loads of his seed on Duncan's very own bed, if the opportunity presented itself. Some 'friends' might be offended at how Lucius acted as if the general's quarters were -his- quarters, but Duncan had never -really- complained. In the end, Lucius was his closest friend and someone he trusted more than most. Duncan could very easily accept Lucius's vary eccentricities without much effort.<br><br>But as Duncan and Jazelle approached, the woman's steps came to a halt, which caused Duncan to halt his advance, as well. He turned to look at her with a slightly confused expression as Jazelle sighed, her eyes closed, as she explained that they would likely find Mercy and Lucius engaged in carnal activities as they had been seen to enjoy the previous evening.<br><br>Duncan rolled his eyes and groaned at the revelation. He took in a deep breath, as well, when Jazelle suggested additional quarters for Lucius nearby. <br><br>“Why is it that my bed has seen more sex between other people, and from me as of late?” he asked wryly. “That is not a complain, lover... just... an odd observance that the vast majority of people in this world likely do not ever have to make,” he said, shaking his head slightly.<br><br>“As for Lucius and closer quarters... he -has- quarters not far from here. The fact that he can't keep his cock in his pants for the extra minute or two it would take to -get- to his quarters is a glaring weakness he obviously needs to work on. I should go listen at my bedroom door, and when he gets close to his climax... I should dash in and pull him off of her – and drag him to his quarters like a bad-mannered pup,” he said, reproach in his tone, but it was gentle and without malice. <br><br>“Come, lover. If we interrupt... then we interrupt. There are bigger stakes in play right now, and as much as I'd love to wrap my hands around your horns... we understand that there is a plan in place, and it starts now...”<br><br>With that, he turned and headed for the door, ready to head inside unless Jazelle had some objection...<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Lucius shook his head slowly in disbelief as Mercy described the incident involving the priest rounding up the young women to be deflowered in a process that was almost mechanical in nature. “I enjoy a good deflowering myself, but that.. -that- is wicked,” he said, and his voice and demeanor were serious. “Barely more than buds? Just children, really... that's just... it sounds like his 'punishment' was a little too... easy,” he said. As playful as he could be, Lucius harbored no designs on inflicting his values or desires on -children-. That was something that honorable men simply did not do – even though many questioned Lucius's honor on a regular basis.<br><br>“And I agree completely. If someone wants to be chaste – let them chaste to their heart's content! And if others want to share their bodies with random passers by – let them share to their heart's content! We each own our own bodies, do we not? We should be able to do with them as we please, without others becoming self-righteous about it,” he asserted. <br><br>“For example... I can tell that you are eager to do some of that sharing right -now-,” he said, his hands sliding up her flanks and under her breasts, lifting and hefting them in his palms as he stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her. He saw, and more importantly felt the movement of her hips as she moved them slowly left and right, enticing him even further – as if he needed it. Gently, he pressed his hips forward, giving her the pleasure of feeling his arousal which, unless she had lost all feeling in her rump, she would likely be able to notice.<br><br>Her words about his flock and tongue lashing made him chuckle softly. “You speak wisely, priestess Mercy,” he spoke, softer, his hands feeling and squeezing lightly as fingertips lightly grazed across barely exposed nipples. “Would you be my high priestess, then? Would you come to my altar and worship nightly? Would you come to confess your true desires and feelings to me in hopes receiving my comfort?” he asked.<br><br>Feeling the suggestive and very slow sway of her hips, though, had lit a fire for certain, and a moment later, he simply answered his own question.<br><br>“I have heard the call of my flock. You are obviously in need, my priestess... here... allow me to bless you...”<br><br>And quickly, his hands retreated and the sound of his clothing being tended to – rather hastily – could be heard behind her. <br><br>“Just... one second... I'm... almost ready... to give you... my blessing...” he said, and then the sound of his breeches being pushed down his thighs could be heard, followed by the soft sounds of his feet alternating rising and falling, pulling them from the loose tangle of his breeches on the floor. Then his hands slid to her rump, fingers caressing and squeezing. <br><br>And then he was dropping to his knees behind her – and then she'd feel his hands gently parting her buttocks... followed quite quickly by the sudden insertion of his face into sex from behind, tongue leading the way, of course....<br><br>He knew that any 'blessing', of course, could not be delivered before the ever important anointment of oils, which Lucius now seemed only too eager to immediately resolve...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-05-2015, 20:11:53</strong>
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				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><em><br>"We will have to remedy that, my general, at the first opportunity.&nbsp; And perhaps, once we have, you would not mind if I take steps to divert your second's competitive spirit before it takes hold?"</em><br><br>Jazelle's faint smile did not falter, but her eyebrows lifted to touch the tendrils of curls that artfully crept down over her forehead.&nbsp; When she had been ... unawakened ... she had had a love of what mortals often called tricks or pranks.&nbsp; Most of what she had done then would be rather permanent to mortals such as Lucius, but she had since refined her 'art' -- she was content to think of it such, though she had been told that she gave herself airs -- such that she was convinced that the point would be communicated without pricking a hole in anything other than Lucius' dignity.<br><br>Based on her experience thus far -- admittedly less than her daughter's -- he would not suffer unduly, and she was very confident that she could teach him to play elsewhere much as one would train a puppy -- a little rubbing of his nose in it, a few sharp swats, and territory would be established.&nbsp; Plus Mercy could probably undo the more long-lasting lessons, which she would probably enjoy.<br><br>She shrugged her shoulders to show that she would not be discomfited by whatever they found, and&nbsp; followed him inside, her face no more troubled than if he had suggested they take tea.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>"No.&nbsp; His punishment was not easy at all ... and he will never again lead foolish mortals to trade some imagined status for their daughters' innocence." &nbsp;Mercy's eyes were fierce, dark, and devoid of anything resembling pity or kindness as she remembered.&nbsp; &nbsp; That the gods allowed such things in their name was, to Mercy, proof positive that the time had come for her god's rising -- whatever slumber, whatever malaise, whatever chains held them back from casting out the filth that had invaded the ranks of their worshippers needed breaking.<br><br>Yet she was all too willing to be distracted by other, more pleasant, thoughts as Lucius picked up her point regarding chastity.&nbsp; She was even more content to be distracted by things other than thoughts as Lucius' hands gave up on all pretense of 'helping' her undress and turned to celebrating their joint lack of chastity.&nbsp; &nbsp;Mercy had already stated her intent to keep the boots she was wearing, and they and her holy symbol were the last things covering any portion of her skin, save for her very own hair and Lucius' arms and hands.<br><br>"And it seems that your blade is again in need of a suitably tight sheathe to keep it contained," the priestess purred, her lips parting in a hungry, yet somehow satisfied, smile as her body straightened, shifted, as she managed to press her breasts more fully into the stroke of Lucius' hands, and also welcome the hard press of his erect, awakened cock into the crease between the rounded globes of her buttocks, stroking him despite the barrier of cloth.<br><br>Some would have considered their words blasphemy at best, but Phaenix cared nothing for how, with whom, or how often his flock sated their desires with each other, and while there were magicks that could be empowered by sexual energy, other strong passions served as well.&nbsp; With Lucius, though, Mercy thought that she would prefer this type of energy over all others, again and again.<br><br>"What are your views regarding sex upon an alter, Cho ..." &nbsp;Mercy caught herself just in time before a dangerous presumption left her lips, and instead, said his name in a tone of hunger, longing, her head turning to offer him a smile that promised a thousand and one delights for every indulgence.<br><br>When he offered to bless her, Mercy stilled, save for her breathing and the heaving of her breasts as desire seemingly stole the oxygen from the very air.&nbsp; She felt the movement of his hands, the shuffle of cloth, as he removed that barrier that she had previously been regretting. <br><br>"Lucius ..." she half whispered, half moaned.&nbsp; There was nothing of shyness, nothing of innocence, in the way she adjusted her stance to spread her legs wider apart, bracing in delicious anticipation, inviting whatever blessing he chose to bestow, bending forward until the flats of her palms found the poster of her mother's lover's bed.<br><br>His hands found her, and she let out a breathy, long exhalation of air as she felt his movement, her head lifting and tilting heavenward as her body eagerly readied itself.<br><br>His tongue, the push of his nose, his hands baring her ... his threat had been no idle one.&nbsp; She would confess her sins until there were none remaining, and depart in haste to commit them all again just to seek such anointing.<br><br>Her only regret, if regret it was, was that they had not had opportunity to perform upon the altar of her god, though Mercy had the sneaking suspicion that they would eventually remedy that.<br><br>The audience would certainly be more appreciative, likely, than the pair that had just entered the outer door of Duncan's quarters, their feet falling without any pretense of stealth.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>27-05-2015, 07:52:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan chuckled softly at her assertion that they would need remedy his comment that his bed had seen more 'external' action than that of him and his own lover. He had meant it as a playful aside, but her remark sure didn't seem to be jesting in the least, and that caused an eyebrow to rise - and his head to nod in the affirmative. Then she suggested taking 'steps' to divert Lucius's attentions, especially his competitive nature. Duncan let out a short but genuine laugh in response. "Sure, lover... but please... leave him with all his parts, and don't traumatize his mind too much?" he suggested with a playful wink.<br><br>Duncan could only imagine what sort of 'terrors' she could unleash on a poor, unsuspecting, and very distracted Lucius. But aside from jokes, jests, and pranks, he definitely didn't want anyone wounded or unable to think coherently, and Duncan had the sneaky suspicion that Jazelle could inflict great pain... and great mental torment if she chose to. <br><br>She followed him inside, then, and Duncan knew right away that his second - and the woman he was chasing - were both present. The noises coming from his bedroom were quite audible, given the remaining silence that otherwise surrounded them. When Duncan boldly strode forth to push open the closed-slatted doors to his room, he immediately began to rethink his stance on that matter. Perhaps a good mental-whipping would do Lucius some good....<br><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Mercy indicated that the 'priest' in her story had suffered grave punishment for his deception - and rightfully so. It had been a horrible thing to do, and the priest in her story had deserved a dire punishment for his actions. Lucius nodded, but did not miss the intensity of Mercy's gaze, as if she had been there herself, or... perhaps she had been one of the ones taken advantage of. Lucius hoped not... Either way, he immediately regretted the course of discussion, for it seemed to put her in a darker mood, which had been the opposite of his intent. So with a little effort, he set about to see if he could reverse her mood, since he happened to know a few methods he might use to achieve that...<br><br>They moved together then, as he put forth his attempt to seduce her. She was willing - which always made things move smoothly, but with Mercy it was as if they were of very like minds. In his eyes, with this woman, he felt absolutely comfortable that they would both be pleasured - she was unafraid of her sexuality, unabashed, and definitely not embarrassed by what he could do to her body. In turn, expressing his own pleasure had always been something he enjoyed - even if most of his partners had at one time or another asked him to 'rein in' his... 'enthusiasm'. With Mercy, he didn't have to - at least not so far.<br><br>Her quip about sheathing his 'blade' made him smile. "Just any suitable one will not suffice," he whispered back to her. "There is one which I think the gods prepared specifically for my sword, and it is that one that I seek...," he purred in return. Her hands reached up, pressing his hands more firmly against her tight breasts, and her back arched slightly, curling her rump back against him, the cleft stroking up and down the underside of his length in a slow, seductive motion. That there was cloth in the way mattered not - it was the suggestion, the flirtation that stoked his desire like a bellows stoking the coals in a smithy's fire pit. His fire for Mercy, he believed, was every bit as hot.<br><br>In response to her curiosity about his views regarding sex on altars... and the noticed change from the 'title' she had intended to give him yet changed at the last second to his name, he chuckled deeply, ominously, if not for the playfulness in his intensity so far. "Mercy... for you, for the chance to make love to you... I'd have you anywhere, anytime... altars, pews... in the middle of mass... In front of the congregation, or in secret from their eyes in a confessional booth... Give me permission, and I would have you -anywhere-...."<br><br>A quick, playful idea flickered through his mind, then, as mischievous as they came. It sent a tingle through his body, yet it was not the proper time to discuss such an idea. He would approach her about it later, and he would find out -just- how daring she really was...<br><br>And then... playtime was over. Now, it was time to pleasure her, the teasing would end, the hints and hyperbole and innuendo saved for later now as he set to work on her. Just as she was not shy - neither was he, and his mouth did not dally, his tongue was not tentative as he began to ply her body - cheeks spread, his tongue extended, lapping up and into her folds without hesitation. He had become more and more familiar with her body - yet he knew there was still so much to learn, and he looked forward to that with great anticipation.<br><br>Even from behind on his knees, he knew precisely where to move, how to move, how to adjust so that the tip of his tongue found its destination, prodding gently at her clit, dabbing it lightly, then suddenly rushing over it as if to claim it for his own. The more she bent over and arched her back, the less his hands were needed to hold her cheeks apart, and instead, they moved around her hips to her abdomen, wrists turned and palms flat on her belly as they glided along her toned, smooth skin, up... up further... until his hands found her breasts. Quickly he took possession of them, squeezing tightly at the precise moment the tip of his tongue fluttered wildly, ready to work her into a frenzy if he could, read to prepare her fully to take him.<br><br>Gods, how wet she would be when he was finally ready to make use of the sheath she had so nicely offered, and then-....<br><br>The doors to the room flung open.<br><br>Lucius had to make a choice: immediately withdraw, trying to save face, doing his best to lessen the embarrassment that Mercy might feel. For himself - Lucius cared not. If someone wanted to make fun of his for eating the pussy of a gorgeous woman... well... that was the kind of thing he was more than happy to endure and live with. But what of her? Would Mercy blush and rise startled, pulling his delicious meal away from his mouth? <br><br>Lucius decided for the second option... and that was to continue as if nothing odd at all had happened...<br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div><br>Duncan stood there seeing what was happening, his brows rising in surprise. Part of him was -sure- that he really -wouldn't- find the two of them in such a position... there was work to be done, danger afoot, and Lucius seemed more concerned with... well... -snacking-.<br><br>But he also couldn't deny just how erotic it looked, as the two lovers performed at the foot of his massive bed. Both Mercy's and Lucius's backs were to the doorway, but there was no mistaking who the two were, and no mistaking just what they were doing. A mostly-clothed Lucius kneeling behind, face buried in Mercy's crotch as she bent over the bed, her own body devoid of any clothing that Duncan could see. Immediately he felt that need to pull his eyes away... but he couldn't, at least not for the moment. When he finally did, he glanced to the side at Jazelle, and he couldn't help but wonder... would -she- enjoy the same type of treatment that Lucius was giving her own daughter?<br><br>Duncan turned his head back to look at Lucius as the man's head moved slightly, his tongue plying Mercy with skill and precision, no doubt. Duncan took a breath - then cleared his throat.<br><br>Lucius, for his part, moved one hand, gently releasing Mercy's breast and moving out to the side, raising a single finger upward, silently asking for just one more minute... as his tongue launched into a fury - darting inside Mercy for a moment to tongue-fuck her, a silent hint at what might come later, but then it slithered back out quickly and up, lewd noises filling the room as he found her clit once more and sent an assault against it in a desperate attempt to give her a climax before they were forced to halt...<br><br>Duncan folded his arms and sighed.... though his imagination filled in the blanks, replacing the scene before him with Jazelle in her true form - and himself kneeling behind her, worshiping her in such a way though much... much... slower.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-05-2015, 04:48:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div><br>Jazelle's lips curled in mild amusement when Duncan requested that she leave Lucius mostly intact.&nbsp; <em>"I would not deprive him of his ... parts ... though it might be amusing if some of them simply did not so readily rise to the occasion.&nbsp; Or perhaps a simple aversion ... or suggestion ... so that your quarters are not such a tempting place for his performances?&nbsp; Perhaps that would be traumatizing, but I suspect that he is not so fragile as to not get over it ... at least once he realizes that the stigma does not follow him to his own domicile."</em><br><br>Jazelle followed Duncan inside, her expression unchanging as she heard her daughter's soft moans, cries, encouragements, and instructions.&nbsp; She pulled the door shut, locked it, and then followed her lover to his bedroom.<br><br>--------------<br><br>Lucius was indeed skilled in this part of his art, and Mercy did not hesitate to take full advantage of his talents, setting aside business for pleasure, since at this point what action they could take toward the former was speculation alone.<br><br>It also served another purpose, for Mercy was a succubus still, though the blood was diluted by her father's seed.&nbsp; Unlike her mother, she had not set aside the ties to the nether plane, and her lusts, her pleasures, and that of her lovers, fed her, and fed that side of her that was both demanding and greedy.&nbsp; When they did go to battle, she would do so infused, at full strength, and woe be the cleric engaged in activities he had foresworn with his vows.<br><div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Lucius swore that he would have her anywhere at all, if she but allowed it.&nbsp; &nbsp;A dare, perhaps, a bit of teasing to whet the pallet, but she only laughed. &nbsp;"So bold, Lucius.&nbsp; Let us start with here, and now, and see where that takes us.&nbsp; And after, perhaps a small wager as to which of us demurs first when desire strikes ..."<br><br>Mercy bent under Lucius' urging, legs spread wide as she felt his breath, his hair, trail unhurriedly down her back.&nbsp; His hands molded themselves to her curves, opened her to his gaze, his touch, his tongue.&nbsp; Mercy leaned down into the bed, supporting her weight upon the footboard, the mattress, shifting to grant him ever freer access, her face pressed into the covers as her fingers clutched, dug for purchase at the heavenly, sweet lapping at her most sensitive flesh, inflaming her hunger.&nbsp; She arched for his hands, pressing her body into that caress even as she pushed back, grinding eagerly&nbsp; against tongue, lips, the hard press of his teeth.<br><br>She heard the rush of displaced air, the slam of wood as the door was flung open.&nbsp; Had she not sensed Jazelle, her aura as serene as it usually was save when she was similarly engaged, Mercy might have been more concerned.&nbsp; In the moment, however ...<br><br>The alu-demon priestess turned her head, peering across her own body, as Lucius let got of her breasts.&nbsp; She laughed, a bit wildly, as Lucius signaled for more time, not stopping his efforts in the slightest.&nbsp; For her part, she remembered how Jazelle had ... introduced her to the succubus side of her nature, both to feed the hunger that had nearly ripped her apart in the first days of its awakening, and to the sensual side that kept the hunger from becoming a thing of teeth alone.&nbsp; That it was her mother's lover who watched, his expression a roiling confusion of surprise, annoyance, and ... arousal, appreciation.&nbsp; Jazelle stepped into the room just after, her eyebrows raising a modest degree, but&nbsp; no anger.<br><br>Mercy's eyes closed for a moment as Lucius redoubled his efforts, her body shuddering, shaking, as waves of pleasure, beyond pleasure -- ecstasy -- rippled out like waves from the agitation of Lucius' tongue.&nbsp; There was no outcry, only a loud sigh, but when she opened her eyes again, the general's eyes were back on her ... and she could feel his lust rising, but not for her, or at least not mainly for her.&nbsp; She smiled, before the effort of breathing loosened her lips, sent her panting, and spread her thighs all the wider, her hands reaching back to spread the lips of her pussy all the more, leaving no room for doubt at all that she was as much an active participant as her partner in crime.<br><br>Jazelle's hand slid to Duncan's back, fingers warm, caressing, as she continued to watch, without comment.&nbsp; Occasionally, her eyes rose to Duncan's, and when their gaze met, she smiled, softly, faintly ... as if granting her blessing, her permission ... to watch if he would.&nbsp; <em>"A valiant effort, is it not?&nbsp; If a bit rushed, like an eager puppy." <br></em><br>Arousal was not ... precisely ... what Jazelle felt as she watched.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could feel Mercy's aura, her arousal, but dimly, her senses mostly disengaged.&nbsp; She could also feel the energy that was building between the two of them, the power that was as much a source of magic as meditation, focus, blood.<br><br><em>"If there is time enough, my general ... Mercy will be the stronger for it, and your second will&nbsp; have a clearer head, something that he seems to lack somewhat at his best ... his release strengthens her, more even than her own."</em>&nbsp; Jazelle did not not urge, only informed.&nbsp; That she enjoyed, on some levels, seeing their pleasure, she did not attempt to hide, but it did not draw her now.&nbsp; Her hunger was quiet, sated, nothing but the barest lick of heat at the edge of her consciousness, though desire remained.<br><br>Dimly, Mercy heard Jazelle's words, her eyes rolling back into her head as she fought against the release Lucius' tongue demanded ... the hunger growing within like a fever ...<br><br>For Jazelle, Duncan's arousal was heady, potent ... delicious, with subtle flavors upon the air, in the heat of his body, in the scent from his pores.&nbsp; All the better, though he beheld Mercy displayed in a position of wild abandon, the meat of his desire was still for her, and she had little doubt that she would reap the rewards.&nbsp; And she had learned patience, and so, it seemed, had her hunger.&nbsp; There seemed only one explanation for that wonder.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (Briar Rose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>28-05-2015, 09:03:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan had given Jazelle a knowing smile when she made her suggestion. For Lucius to suddenly find his plumbing not 'functioning at peak performance' while in Duncan's quarters was -really- a fantastic idea. He could even hear Lucius already wailing in terror – but even worse, Duncan could imagine how embarrassed Lucius would feel in front of Mercy, as she would likely be the -cause- of his want to be erect in the moment that he learned he could not be – at least not in Duncan's quarters. <br><br>“I love the way you think. But remind me, lover... -never- to piss you off,” Duncan winked at her. He had no doubt that if Jazelle could do such things to Lucius, then she could certainly do such things to -him-, if the mood struck her. The thought of being in Jazelle's company with the woman dripping wet for him and eager to fuck – and his cock not responding... it was almost too terrible to contemplate. At least from her description, the enchantment would be short-lived... or only functioning in a specific place. But something told him that if she were truly angered, the results could definitely be far more 'theatrical', and likely far longer-lasting...<br><br>That, of course, gave him -other- thoughts and ideas... that he would need to take up with her at another time. Right now, there were things to do... and lovers to interrupt...<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Lucius, of course, had no idea he was 'feeding' Mercy, and had he known – he would have smiled and prepared to serve her an extra helping of whatever it was she needed. He'd rarely met a woman so well-matched with his own ways and needs – and desires. Mercy seemed completely incorruptible – if she had blushed since he had known her, it likely wasn't from things they -did-. She didn't shy away, and she didn't flutter her hand before her face to calm herself when he spoke however he wished to speak. If anything, she had fired right back, giving as good as she got.<br><br>She proved that point right there on the spot. Once he made his response, offering to take her anytime, anywhere, she retorted with comments about how bold he was, and suggested possible wagers down the road, challenging one another to see who would decline sensual experiences first. Lucius, already having gone back to his licking, simply mumbled something incomprehensible as his mouth was quite busy – but she'd feel his head nod in the affirmative, indicating that he would, indeed, accept such a wager, if offered.<br><br>Lucius smiled inwardly as she eased herself into a relaxed position, spread her stance even more – and pressed back against his mouth, wanting more. Ahhh, this woman knew how to please him in return, even when her hands and mouth were nowhere near his body. When his hands moved along her body, it arched to meet his palms, her sinewy form so flexible and nimble, and it was difficult not to constantly move his hands up to her breasts over and over again, to claim them for his own enjoyment – and hers.<br><br>Lucius was aware that they were being watched, now, and he was prepared – if he heard Duncan's fiery protest – to cease and desist on the spot, if ordered to. He heard remarks, sighs of frustration – but no command to stop, so with a gentle purr right into her core, Lucius simply redoubled his efforts, hoping to bring her to climax before Duncan lost patience with him.<br><br>It didn't occur to Lucius that Duncan might be aroused by what he saw, not when Duncan himself was banging a -full- succubus who seemed to enjoy the general's flavor. That still worried Lucius somewhat, but he trusted in Mercy – for some inexplicable reason, though he had his suspicions – and if Mercy seemed convinced her mother would not harm his best friend, then Lucius was not going to make himself a thorn in his side, or Jazelle's. <br><br>And if Duncan wanted to watch Lucius and Mercy fuck... well... it wouldn't be the first time Duncan watched Lucius fuck a woman in his bed.<br><br>But... there would be no sharing... not with -this- one... the thought crossed Lucius's mind almost quickly, as if the thought itself was trying to avoid Lucius's full attention to it. It wasn't all that unnerving to him to think of Mercy as having countless lovers before him... but he had -no- wish to see Duncan added to her list, best friend or not.<br><br>When he redoubled his efforts, though, and Mercy only let out a sigh... for a moment Lucius feared that was a sigh of boredom. She was obviously skilled at disciplining herself and keeping her pleasure internalized if she wished... he was simply not as talented with his tongue as he had thought! Then she moved, her hands reaching back and under, however she had to in order to spread herself for him even more – baring her clit to him as if surrendering her castle to him, keep and all... and like a good boy, Lucius closed in on it and wrapped his lips around it and suckled, nipping it with his teeth delicately to deliver as much pleasure for her as he could.<br><br>Duncan blinked when he felt Jazelle's fingers slide down his back. He turned his head slightly to gaze at her, and her eyes met his. She even commented on Lucius's effort, and he couldn't help but smile when she compared his second-in-command to an eager puppy.<br><br>In front of them, faced buried in Mercy's nethers, Lucius mumbled something that might have been a protest.<br><br>But Duncan simply nodded to Jazelle, then leaned in to whisper to her. “Would you.... enjoy... something like that?” he asked, almost timidly. Duncan had always known that Lucius was more 'experienced' then himself, mainly because of his 'worldliness' as Lucius called it – which, translated, meant Lucius would fuck just about any woman, at one point in time. His tastes had become sharper and more defined in the past few years, but there was a time when Duncan feared that even pets and livestock might not be safe.<br><br>The thought of Jazelle being aroused by Lucius was... still unsettling to the General, though such unease would only manifest by the slight clenching of his jaw. He reminded himself once again that Jazelle could have any man she wanted – even Lucius – yet she had still chosen to be with him.<br><br>When Jazelle explained that this act would strengthen Mercy, Duncan's brows rose a bit, but he knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Mercy was her mother's daughter, and as such, acts like these would empower her, replenish her in a mystical way that Duncan couldn't truly understand. All he knew was that Jazelle's explanation was important. <br><br>Between Mercy's thighs, head tilted back at a sharp angle so that he could claim her pearl again and again, Lucius heard the words that were spoken behind them. Mercy drew -more- strength from -his- release, than even her own? Now -that- was some powerful news for his ears! And he was more than happy to assist her in that area... but for now, he had to finish her. He wouldn't be a rude, insensitive prick and leave her hanging part way to ecstasy... So he dove back into his effort with zeal.<br><br>“Well, if that's the case, they're going to be a few minutes, I presume... If you'd like, we can go into the armory where I keep my gear so that we, or at least I, can prepare,” he said, turning his attention towards Jazelle completely. Aroused, yes, but still obviously in control of his faculties...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>30-05-2015, 15:38:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div><br>As Lucius responded to her invitation, Mercy all but forgot about their watchers. Lucius was beyond talented with his mouth and tongue, and the rest of him as well.&nbsp; That he was so intent on giving pleasure, when most cared almost entirely for what they received, signaled a generosity of spirit that Mercy both respected and enjoyed.&nbsp; He was well-deserving of an audience, though a more appreciative audience would certainly have been better.<br><br>Almost grimly, she hung on to the last vestige of control, uncaring of the delay of minutes, as every movement, every flick of his tongue, scrape of his teeth, and soft suck wracked her with little, shuddering waves of pleasure.&nbsp; She did not want it to end, not the sensual, intimate touch, not Lucius' eager, determined, attention, and not even the attention of their ... gods, how did a sex-demon-succubus manage to come across almost like a bored nun when discussing one of the foremost pleasures in existence? ... unimpressed, yet vaguely aroused audience could dampen her enthusiasm.<br><br>Her mother's comment, Lucius' protest, the vibration of his words and the laughter that she could not suppress roiled together into a mighty wave that she could neither weather nor stand against.&nbsp; As Jazelle and Duncan turned away, Mercy's cry ripped from her throat, straining her vocal cords with its intensity even as she buried her face, fists, into the general's bed, grinding back against Lucius' mouth, face for one long moment before pulling away and collapsing over the bed's edge, her arms and legs going from locked steel to boneless in an instant.<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Duncan whispered to Jazelle, his face adorably reflecting a sweet uncertainty that, if she did not mistake his expression, was also slightly hopeful.&nbsp; In answer, Jazelle arched her eyebrows as she tilted her head slightly to the side, and smiled wickedly ... invitingly, as her hand slid from the small of his back over the delightful curve of muscle below..&nbsp; &nbsp; <em>"Would you?"</em>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>Her eyes said that she would enjoy that, and much more ... all that he could dream or imagine.&nbsp; She had known lust before she knew there could be more to it than the sheer physical pleasure, the feeding of one hunger.&nbsp; Duncan's presence had fed one, but woken another -- of less demanding impatience, perhaps, but infinitely more subtle in its delights.<br><br>The trailing ends of her soft laughter melded with Duncan's suggestion and Mercy's cry of release, and she simply nodded and turned to go, her hand still resting possessively upon one of Duncan's many enjoyable assets.&nbsp; <em>"Perhaps proving your endurance can wait until some later date, Lucius?&nbsp; We do have a surprise attack to mount -- and there can be a great deal of charm in quick intensity as well.&nbsp; Meet us in the armory, daughter ... "</em><br><br>From the bed, Mercy's muffled remark might have signaled agreement, but through the layered blanket, it was rather hard to understand.<br><br>As Jazelle and Duncan entered the other room, Jazelle's grip shifted, to request a moment of pause before they reached the outer door.&nbsp; <em>"I love that you would protect me, my general ... but please do not forget that I am not without my own defenses and skills.&nbsp; I would not stand long alone against a demon lord, 'tis true ... but priests, warriors, wielders of divine magic ... particularly should you wish to capture them rather than slay them outright, I could be of use to you, particularly with your sword at my back."<br><br>"I would not see you hurt, either, Duncan ... I will not, if it is in my power to prevent."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arkhos</strong> on <strong>18-06-2015, 10:02:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/duncanimage_zps652f3916.jpg)</div>Duncan gazed back down into Jazelle's eyes in response to her question. Would he enjoy doing to Jazelle what he had witnessed Lucius doing to Mercy? The answer was simple, and he was not afraid to admit it.<br><br>"Yes," he whispered softly, looking into the succubus's eyes - even though they weren't her real ones. "I would enjoy it - if it would make you cry out for me. I'd love to learn every way that I can make you... shiver,” he said quite honestly, though his voice did drop an octave and took on a naturally more sultry tone.<br><br>As the two of them turned away, and just as they did, Mercy's cry of ecstasy – deep, throaty, and wholly honest escaped into the room, mostly against the pillow and blanket surface of Duncan's bed... almost in the exact same spot where Duncan had fucked Jazelle previously. Duncan cast a glance – a quick one – back over his shoulder to see what he had already seen, Lucius delving into Mercy's cleft from behind as she bent over, back arched, legs spread, allowing Lucius to explore her in such an erotic way....<br><br>Duncan wanted to do that to Jazeelle even more, now. He felt her hand, too, slid down his back, down to his rump. Was it a casual touch, or... was she enticing him? Shit... he didn't hardly know the difference any longer. A mere -look- from her, even in this human form, caused his body to rise in temperature. It was her power, her ability, and he knew he was helpless against it. <br><br>They started to depart, but Jazelle did cast one piece of advice over her shoulder, aimed at Lucius, before they walked out the doorway and into the hall that would lead to other parts of Duncan's chambers. Duncan heard a muffled remark from -both- Mercy – whose face was buried against the fabric atop the bed – and from Lucius, whose face was still buried in Mercy's nethers. It was almost comical...<br><br>...If it hadn't made Duncan hard as a rock to watch and hear. He knew it was 'wrong' on some level... at least, he -thought- so... with who Mercy was, and Jazelle, and... hells, Duncan just didn't know -what- to think. But getting out of that room and able to focus on something else would surely help.<br><br>Out in the hallway, now, Duncan relaxed somewhat and took a breath. He was sure if he confessed his... awkwardness... over the current 'situation', Jazelle would think him childish at best, hopeless at worst. At the very least, she would surely mock him. For all he could see, Jazelle didn't seem to care at all that Duncan had watched – could watch – her own daughter getting fucked, eaten, speared, spread, and used. And that the sight had -aroused- him... would Jazelle just laugh, applaud... even congratulate him? <br><br>He felt her hand tighten against his buttock slightly, a signal to pause and he did, turning to face her, looking down into her eyes as she spoke. She reminded him that she most certainly wasn't helpless, and he nodded with a faint sigh. It was his feelings for her that made him 'protective', and he hoped she understood that. It wasn't a statement about her ability to protect herself in the least.<br><br>“I know... I just... if anything happened to you...,” he shook his head. “I would be... lost, Jazelle.” <br><br>How many times had her slave-men told her such things? Too many, he guessed. Too often. How could he -tell- her, really, how much he cared for her, in a way that wasn't something she had heard a thousand-thousand times already? “I admit, though... having you at my back... your or Lucius... nothing would make me feel more confident,” he admitted, hoping that would massage her ego a little, especially because it was the simple truth.<br><br>“With you beside me, Jazelle... I would face a demon lord, and be quite convinced we would win,” he added, raising a hand to caress her face for a moment. Just then, a loud male grunt could be heard from a few steps down the hall, where the doors to Duncan's bedroom still remained open. Duncan groaned softly.<br><br>“Let's... continue on, shall we?” he asked with a smirk on his face, turning and gently guiding Jazelle down the hall with him.<br><br><hr><div class="floatright">(http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd43/ivanete84/El%20Hombre%20y%20la%20Tierra/Val.jpg)</div><br>Lucius let his tongue dance over Mercy's sensitive bits, lightly fluttering and teasing her some more even though she was nearing the end of her climax. She'd be sensitive, he knew... and the tip of his tongue could be used in so many torturous ways in such a predicament. When he felt her wind down nearly completely, only then did he pull his mouth and tongue away, and rose up to his feet behind her.<br><br>When he thought Mercy would also try to rise, he extended one arm outward, the flat of his hand resting along the middle of her back – holding her in place. <br><br>“No, no,” he said gently as his other hand went to his groin, making quick work of his belt and pants fastenings, shoving them downward rapidly, freeing his aching length from its prison.<br><br>“I think I like your mother's advice,” Lucius continued, and only when he was ready did his hand move from her back, downward toward her left hip. His other hand took her right hip into his grasp, and he carefully aligned the thick tip of his cock -right- at her sex from behind... and then suddenly, rapidly – he pulled her back onto him – impaling her hard.<br><br>Lucius grunted loudly, following that up with a long, deep hiss of pleasure as his eyes nearly rolled back. Between his tongue and saliva, and her own arousal – she was slick, so very slick, and the impalement was far easier than he figured it would be. Still, her body's grasp on him was snug... and that's what mattered most, he thought to himself... as he wasted absolutely no time, then, as he began to pump her hard, hands working her hips, his own bucking back and forth.<br><br>“Save the stamina display for later...,” he growled softly as he fucked her harder.<br><br>“Right now, we have... things to do...,” he continued, drilling her hard and vigorously as their skin slapped repeatedly against one another. <br><br>One of his hands then slid from her hip, up to her hair -grabbing a fist of it and pulling back. <br><br>“Arch your back for me, Mercy...,” he said, half-demand, half-plea. “Do it... so I can completely explode inside you....” he added in a soft, warning growl. And all throughout, his hips pumped, their bodies shook, and the bed protested faintly beneath them.....
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: That Collar Suits You, My Dear (GypsyRose &amp; arkhos)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>28-06-2015, 06:41:50</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Jaz2-1.jpg)</div>Her general's unsettled mind was as plain for Jazelle to discern as was his arousal.&nbsp; And though she was not the sole source of his desire, it was not apart from her in the way it would have been with another, or had he gone to another of his own volition.&nbsp; She had moved amongst humans for long enough to at least partially understand.&nbsp; For all that they had shared, it had been such a very little time.&nbsp; Her own understanding had not come quickly, after all, and before Duncan had donned the wizard's collar, he had only stories and legends to guide his judgement.<br><br>What seemed natural to her, in regard to her daughter, in regard to passion and lust, must surely not be so to him.&nbsp; Later, perhaps, once the current threat had been addressed, there would be time for explanations, experimentation, but not now.<br><br>Duncan did not deny the truth of her words, but his confession that he would be lost if she were harmed ... robbed her of any rejoinder that she might make to convince him.&nbsp; She had heard such words before, from men that she had entrapped in a web of lustful addiction, before her life had become a thing of balance.&nbsp; She had never before heard them from one still in command of his lusts, and that she could feel the sincerity of his beliefs ... it was a magic of a kind that she did not recognize or understand, and against it she had no defense.<br><br>And yet his admonition meant for her safety was softened by the admission that he would feel safer with her at his side ... and Lucius too, though that was somewhat robbed of its impact by a loud sound that reminded the both of them just WHAT ... or, rather WHO, Lucius was currently engaged in.<br><br>Duncan groaned, but then smiled, and Jazelle smiled with them as they left the lovers to their mutual satisfaction and preparation.<br><br>The plans that had been set in motion by the King's decree, and Duncan's and Valerian's efforts, were underway.&nbsp; The team of soldiers were assembled and arming themselves with weapons and tools of their faiths.&nbsp; When Duncan and 'Lady Valerian' entered, they halted their activities and snapped to attention until Duncan gave them leave to finish their preparations.<br><br>Jazelle, her form disguised, reached into the bosom of her gown and withdrew a golden circlet that had been hidden there ... or perhaps she had simply summoned it from that in-between place where she stepped when traveling from one place to another in the winking of an eye.&nbsp; She took Duncan's hand, and gently eased the ring upon his index finger.&nbsp; It fit as if it had been crafted specially to his measurements, and the gold warmed immediately to his skin, shining softly in the light from the lamps upon the wall.&nbsp; <em>"This should afford you some protection, both from things from the nether realm, and from the casting of priests who have abandoned the light and walk now in darkness."</em><br><br>Then, to the smiles, rolling eyes, and frowns of Duncan's soldiers and their allies, Lady Valerian lifted her arms and linked them about his neck, and pulled his head down to hers for a lingering kiss ... restrained though it might have been, to preserve his dignity..<br><br><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1177.photobucket.com/albums/x359/Briar_Rose_Thorne/Mercy.jpg)</div>Back in Duncan's room, Mercy had melted into a puddle upon Duncan's bed.&nbsp; There were several tears in fine spread that had once covered it, and now was&nbsp; wadded beneath the alu-demons grasping hand and head. She made small movements, against the bed, against Lucius' body where they touched as the waves of heat from her orgasm continued to emanate outward in small tremors.<br><br>There was a task to be done, but for the moment, even the pleasure of cleansing the palace of traitorous, corrupt priests was not enough to cause her to stir.&nbsp; She felt Lucius' hand on her back, holding her there.&nbsp; She smiled at the sound of his voice, and nodded, voicing her agreement in a wordless sound of pure bliss as she discerned his intent.&nbsp; Mercy turned her head, just enough so that she could see his hand at work at his belt and the fastenings of his pants.&nbsp; She muffled her laugh in the pillow as he demonstrated his expertise, repeating the gestures that he must have made countless times to ingrain them in his muscles.&nbsp; The laugh was not one of mockery, but rather admiration tinged with gratitude.&nbsp; She had very recently reaped the benefits of his dedicated practice, and was yet to be further rewarded ...<br><br>"She does give good advice," Mercy agreed.&nbsp; Since it seemed he knew exactly what it was that he wanted, and that time was short, she did not move, even when his hand slipped from back to hip.&nbsp; He was certainly strong enough to position her as he wanted.&nbsp; Instead she simply closed her eyes and let her other senses soak in the moment - the sound of of his breathing, the shuffle of his lowered pants against the covers and mattress; the feel of his hands digging with gentle force into her hips, and the press of his hardness, his heat, against the swollen folds that stood guard at the gates, the scent of him in her nostrils, and the feel of him that was not body, but pure desire, molten quicksilver.<br><br>Her grunt joined with his as he slammed her hips back upon him, filling the aching void that hungered for him with a feast.<br><br>And then her arms pushed her torso up from the bed, abandoning the position of eager supplicant to demanding lover as she found his rhythm and moved with it, matching force with force as they further strained the construction of the bed, and perhaps the wall as well as the headboard provided the percussion to their dance.<br><br>Mercy did not waste energy or breath in responding to his words.&nbsp; She had seen his endurance already; now she wanted his passion and Lucius seemed well inclined to deliver.&nbsp; His hand in her hair forced her head back and up, green eyes lidded lazily.&nbsp; She could feel his impending release in the swell of his desire, like a castle gate ready to burst from the incessant pounding of the battering ram at the breachpoint.&nbsp; He could have asked for anything and at that moment she would have moved mountains to give it to him, were it within her power.<br><br>What he wanted was easy, and her response immediate.&nbsp; She arched, pulling against his grip on her hair, lips parted in a triumphant, expectant howl, her hips bracing against the force of his rapid, incessant thrusts.<br><br>The howl became a scream of ecstasy as his desire, that force that was ambrosia, liquor and nectar all in one to that part of her that had come to her from her demon-mother,exploded outward and poured into her with every hot spurt&nbsp; of his seed.<br><br>Her throat felt scratchy, delightfully scratchy, as the scream ended and her eyes opened wide.&nbsp; "Take that, bitch," she whispered exultantly, sparing a thought to the succubus that she and Lucius had dispatched together.&nbsp; "You'll never know what you're missing."<br><br>And with that, Mercy used some of the strength Lucius had just imbued her with to slip from his grasp, turn, and take hold of his shoulders, heave-pulling him onto the bed and turning him so that he landed upon his back, and she on top of him as her lips found his in a kiss sweet with gratitude.&nbsp; Mercy whispered his name softly when the kiss ended, and then rose and offered him a hand to help him rise.&nbsp; As she did so, her eyes wandered over the untidy, mostly undone surface of the bed.&nbsp; It seemed that she owed the general another apology ... though she could not quite help grinning as she ... very vaguely ... recalled his shocked and yet rapt face when he had been unable to look away from the tableaux in front of him.<br><br>Unless she missed her guess, Jazelle would be reaping an extra benefit or two when time allowed ... and that should soften her mother's annoyance with her, if indeed she was annoyed.
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