When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure & Tiaan]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Tiaan on 31-03-2011, 00:27:58</h2>
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				Title: <strong>When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tiaan</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 00:27:58</strong>
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				Nuki awoke a short while before sunrise and sat up in bed rubbing her tired hazel eyes. A vast chorus of glittering birdsong wafted through the small window in her tiny room at the very top of Yaga’s tree house. The deep blue of dawn was gradually swamping the starry blackness outside her window above the uppermost boughs of the immense yew tree that supported the dwelling.<br><br><br>She went about her morning duties, stepping confidently out onto a sticky bough and proceeded to move among the branches scraping the oozing sap into a large glass jar for her master. A short while later she was done, a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead. The sun was barely cresting the distant tree tops as she stepped back inside and proceeded down gnarled wooden steps that had seemingly grown into position.<br><br><br>Nuki tentatively opened the door to Yaga’s study, despite his general lenience of late she still held an uncertain fear of him and was quite sure his power far exceeded her expectations. She quietly stepped into the study carrying the full jar in front of her. Glancing briefly to her right she winced silently, catching sight of him slumped forward in his chair snoring gently, an assortment of papers and books spread out on the desk in front of him, a large blob of ink trailing smaller ones led from the inkwell. Her shoulders tensed as she eased her way past precariously balanced stacks of books. He would be especially cranky today after spending the night hunched over in his chair. Nuki cringed further as she noticed the object held loosely in his right hand and momentarily considered removing it and tossing it from the window. She shook her head softly, amazed at herself for considering such a dangerous endeavour and quietly padded across a short open space to the tall oaken shelves. They were full of assorted jars, bottles, powders and ornaments. She reached up high with the jar, trying to slip it onto the correct shelf without retrieving the ladder. The noise of its wheels along the brass runners would have surely woken Yaga. Standing up on her very tip toes she lifted the large heavy jar high above her head, attempting to keep it stable while she struggled to get the edge onto the lip of the shelf.<br><br><br>Something smacked roughly against her bottom. Her body stiffened but she didn’t cry out. The surprise made her lose her grip momentarily though and she felt the jar almost topple out of her hands. After a short frantic dance she managed to keep it from falling and with a final effort and a little hop slid the heavy contents onto the shelf and sank back to her feet relieved, a triumphant smile on her face. Another sharp painful smack caught her on the rump and she looked in Yaga’s direction. The old man still slept, his hand had just twitched as it often did, sending out his whip, Fenrir which was still held loosely between his fingers to give Nuki an incidental reminder not to be sloppy in her duties.<br><br><br>The whip was an enchanted item, as were many of Yaga’s possessions. A stiff leather handle bound with cord surrounded one end of a thin, long, weighty stretch of a rubbery substance that flared out at the other end into an elongated terminus that resembled a massive tongue. The wide end was thicker than the rest of it but wasn’t as firm and was slightly springy to the touch. The edges, thankfully were gently curved so as not to cut the skin on impact. It could be used to give a gentle reminder or to administer tremendous pain, Yaga tended to use it a great deal at either end of the scale. The device was attuned to females and sought out soft, round expanses of flesh, in almost all cases so far this meant Nuki’s bottom. A flick of the wrist would send a wave down the long thin length that made the device look unwieldy depending from where Fenrir rose as it wobbled about seeking its target. Its accuracy was perfect however and when the shockwave reached the business end the thick rubbery expanse would slap against the behind of its victim, the power of the blow proportional to how hard it was flicked.<br><br><br>Fenrir’s unique affections didn’t bother Nuki overly. If Yaga <em>stopped</em> inflicting Fenrir’s uninvited slaps and smacks on her bottom <em>then</em> she believed she’d have cause to worry. She couldn’t be certain but the names on the jars on the shelf below the one she had just struggled the tree sap onto - jars which contained all manner of live amphibians and reptiles - all seemed to bear distinctly feline names. She herself was a neko, a Sentient descended from cats and hers was also, a distinctly feline name.<br><br><br>She was right to be concerned, Yaga was ages old and had had many neko servants before Nuki. Along with many humans, dwarves, elves, sprites, goblins, gremlins and even ogres although he rapidly went off those as their heavy hands weren’t good at assisting him in the delicate manner he often required. He only ever took on one at a time. More than that proved troublesome.<br><br><br>He had used neko’s for the past 500 years or so, ever since constructing the tree house. He had tried humans but they seemed to lose their balance too easily when sent among the narrower branches, where the ripest ingredients were always found. He would sigh deeply when he felt their presence plunging the hundred feet or so to splatter on the thick exposed roots of his yew tree. Destined to be mere carrion for the forest’s wildlife when their deaths may have aided the earth in more constructive ways. So much effort put into training them just right and it would all have to be repeated yet again. He had tried elves up here too but they all seemed so wilful and would eventually attempt escape through the treetops, forcing him to boil their blood as they scampered into the forest, believing themselves beyond his reach. Despite his fickle nature he detested it when a servant died when not involved in a more important task – if their life was required or accidentally lost then it was by the by.<br><br><br>Yaga, as he was currently known. Baba Yaga previously, The Morrigu, Loki, Prince of Lies or the Dark Deceiver at other times and more often than not simply Prankster, was on a kind of sabbatical started 700 years prior. He was one of the old gods, apparently taking a break from direct involvement to seek out certain hopefuls that may prove valuable to The Replenishment others of his kind so fervently pursued. Nuki wasn’t one of those hopefuls of course, she was merely his servant and assistant when necessary and had not an inkling of his true nature, believing him to be simply a wizened old enchanter. <br><br><br>Whilst many mortals considered Neko’s poor servants - the indentured ones usually being used in performance roles such as dance or in very limited serving capacity such as tavern hands, barmaids or shop assistants – Yaga found them suitable for serving him directly. They were attentive and cheerful, lively and curious yet rarely questioned anything that might be considered profound in more than passing fancy. They accepted his words and responded very well to discipline – albeit often biting back in the heat of the moment. They could get infuriatingly excitable when he took them on trips but that was part of their charm. He took his assistants at age 10, leaving the menial duties to the parents and then, after abducting them span dark clouds in their minds all but erasing knowledge of a life before his service. That’s where elves let him down; they were superior servants causing little to no error after being explained a task once but at some point always wanted to <em>know</em> where they were from in such a serious way. Neko’s sometimes asked but would accept any explanation he deigned to throw at them. Even if one wasn’t thrown they would usually get bored with the topic quickly enough. Dim-witted but not stupid, it suited him overall. <br><br><br>Heavily wrinkled eyelids cracked open with tremendous struggle. Yaga glanced at his redwood desk with blurred vision before he clicked his fingers with a crackle of electricity. A set of wire rimmed spectacles appeared on the end of his gnarled nose. He had to rely heavily on mortal magicks whilst in this form, none of which completely halted the aging process unfortunately. He had settled on an earthly form as he had been so fond of Sentient pleasures – many of which he had been responsible for inspiring in the dawn years – yet during the ages his body had grown frail; he had almost forgotten the way back to his earth spirit form. <br><br><br>He glanced around as if confused then caught sight of his servant attempting to be useful whilst keeping quiet and failing on both counts. Damn that feline for waking him from such a profound visioning. Images of an undersea forest lingered at the corners of his decrepit human mind but when he tried to focus on them they tauntingly vanished. He scowled and flicked his wrist angrily, sending a tremendous force along Fenrir’s length which resulted in a loud clap and a startled shriek from his servant. Yaga gently eased his wizened frame around in his wooden chair and found wide brown cringing eyes staring back at him. He scowled further, eliciting a whimper from Nuki and absently flicked a glance towards the jars of amphibians. He sensed her sharp intake of breath as she spun back to her attempts at tidying his study and a wry smile crossed his lips. She was more observant than he realised, she had figured out the names on the jars all on her own. He shifted his slight and shrunken frame, which was bulked out by an enormous flowing red robe and winced as his knee joint made a painful cracking sound. As fire exploded in his knee his smile vanished and he whipped his right hand back and forth vigorously. It took a few moments for the first impulse to reach Fenrir’s tongue, about the same time as it took for Nuki to notice the movement and then a sharp barrage of painful smacks resounded across her round feminine globes slapping one cheek and then the other in the precise order his hand had moved.<br><br><br>Nuki didn’t yelp, she merely took in sharp breaths through clenched teeth as her rump was smacked from side to side until mercifully Fenrir fell limp again, the stinging warmth spreading through her bottom. The lack of response may have been what earned her a final tremendous whack as Yaga batted his hand out furiously. The resulting crack caused Nuki to yowl in genuine pain as her tender flesh was struck with vigour. <br><br><br>His eyes searched the amphibian shelf all the while. Was this body finally abandoning him? Were his nerves fraying? He seemed not to have patience even for his servants anymore. Tuki, his previous feline assistant, appearing as a particularly sleek horned blue toad had now sat on his shelf for no longer than 9 years. Next to her, a vibrant green tree lizard known formerly as Haruki just 2 years longer. Going along the line; a vapid stick insect named Monuki – 24 years on the shelf, a bright red poisonous spitting toad, Jasuki – 30 years; he’d had her in service for just six years, although he mildly regretted the particular outburst that had landed her in the jar. Next to her was a blue eyed newt called Teruki who had sat on his shelf just 46 years. He was onto his 6th servant in less than 50 years. In previous centuries he had kept his servants until they became too old to be useful – or died accidentally – whichever came first. Neko’s could provide a good 40 years of useful labour before aging started to taint them unacceptably.<br><br><br>He turned again, careful of his knee this time and eyed Nuki as she went about tidying his study. She showed nothing if not perseverance. Others would have fled the study and left him in peace. His eyes narrowed as he observed her bending over a tall pile of books to retrieve dirty crockery that had somehow found its way behind. The hem of her loose tan skirt rose as she reached down and full round cheeks adorned in lacy knickers began to peek out from underneath. As she stood Yaga gazed studiously as the skirt slid back down, still hinting at the generous bottom it contained as the material lightly followed the full curve from small waist over generous hips and a more than ample backside then fell straight to mid thigh suggesting all but her most private of places. Yaga licked his cracked dry lips and feasted his eyes on the rest of her. She was diminutive in height, a mere 5 foot 1 but she made up for it physically with exceptional curves in just the right places. She put the dirty plate to one side and went back for more. Yaga stopped her with a slight wrist movement, Fenrir’s tongue lightly slapping against her generous rump. He pointed to what had once been a half full mug of tea on the floor in front of him, it had been there so long the mould had stopped growing, having drank the remaining fluid dry. His servant offered him a cheery smile, oblivious to his lecherous intent and stepped lightly around stacks of books, scrolls and assorted devices, alighting in front of him. She didn’t get much opportunity to clean the study; if Yaga was not here it was not allowed lest she disturb something important and when he was here it was not allowed lest she disturb <em>him</em>. These rare occasions when she discovered him awake, in the study but not working were her only chance. The last time could have been years for all he knew.<br><br><br>Yaga narrowed his eyes further as she knelt on the ground in front of him, was she so forward as to presume he required oral entertainment..? Then he realised she had a damp cloth in hand and was preparing to clean some errant mould that had at one point escaped the pottery and crumbled to the floor. It was now smeared into the rug, likely by Yaga’s own boot. He almost gasped as his eyes fell on her breasts, crammed together in a plunging tan jerkin, similar in colour to her skirt yet made of very soft leather. Her supple breasts whilst not large compared to a lot of females were still practically spilling out of the tight confines of the garment. Deep canyons appeared as her bosom crushed together, aided by her hands on the floor pressing her arms inwards as she scrubbed determinedly. When had she blossomed so? Yaga hadn’t even noticed. He had required her to pleasure him orally since she came of age – he never tasked them as such before then, he had no desire to traumatise children after all – but the last time with Nuki had been… at least two years ago. Usually not even the blink of an eye to him yet in that time she had grown into a woman.<br><br><br>He recalled suddenly one particularly fulfilling assignment they had undertaken at Sorrow Island; after his task was completed his frail human body was severely drained, his current visit to human form may even have been cut short prematurely if he had not received aid. A group of sailors had happened past and assisted them, affording them passage back to the mainland. He had not the energy to conjure them a reward and so had offered them Nuki after boarding their vessel. The men had been eager and extremely pleased and surprisingly had returned her when they reached the coast a few days later. They’d thought she was theirs for the trip alone. He was not one to tell them otherwise. They’d been most grateful as well even offering to buy her for a very decent price – she was not for sale Yaga had informed them without considering the offer, he had no need for coin after all. That had been… just a few months ago maybe. At the time he had just dismissed it, thinking them as dim-witted as she was. He had never appraised her as such a valuable currency.<br><br><br>As he watched her scrubbing the ancient rug, her newly cleaned spot now looking out of place with the ground in dust that suffused the rest of the patterned fabric he cocked a crooked grin. His eyes drank greedily of her deep honey coloured cleavage, rocking back and forth as she began to scrub outwards from the original stain, breasts pushing together, bulging further out of her garment before sinking back to safety, bulging again, sinking back, the full curve of her bosom visible in a more subdued, demure way contained within the soft leather lower down. He flicked a glance at the top of her head, messy curls sprang out and hung in front of her face, deep red mixed with reddish brown almost darkening to black in places. It was cut short – a little above the shoulders – hacked unevenly with a simple blade. Feline ears protruded from the top of her head which twitched on occasion – a result of bird call perhaps. Despite his exceptional hearing hers was always better when he was unassisted by human enchantment. His gaze lingered on her head for mere moments however as he sought out the curves he had been enjoying earlier, now presented in a more concealed manner. His eyes roamed with hesitant impatience down her back, he wanted to elicit full enjoyment from the experience – mortals lived for experience after all. <br><br><br>Slight but defined shoulders gave way to a delicate back, arching gently as she rocked. It tapered into a slim waist, the soft honey coloured skin exposed by the short jerkin which rode up and down with each movement. Finally his eyes alighted on her magnificent behind, hips that flared out and a rump that curved <em>up</em> ever so slightly and <em>out</em> in a not-so-slight way. Soft yet firm, pliable yet resilient, large yet trim her bottom defied natural logic he decided and caught himself pondering how she managed to struggle into trews. He let out a short surprised laugh, drawing a confused stare from Nuki. It had been an age since he had ‘pondered’ anything so menial. That behind of hers was far from menial though, he decided.<br><br><br>Maybe today, for the first time in 200 years, maybe today he would engage a female with penetration. He found himself starting out of the steady lethargy that had been gradually setting in for the past 300 years. He would need to start slowly, no need to get ahead of himself – ancient gods he felt 100 years younger already! – Yaga began to sit up a little straighter, wincing at the ache in his back – not too fast old man – he told himself with a smirk. By the time he had sent his eyes on another languid greedy wash of Nuki’s nubile neko body he had managed to manoeuvre himself into a suitable position and was just about to beckon her forward to entertain him orally – except this time I will end the experience with her back to me while I’m buried within an entirely different orifice – he thought cheerily. <br><br><br><br>“Nuki.” He said softly. The neko’s ears perked up, part swivelling towards him, the kitten was nervous. He never spoke to her in such a tone unless he was up to something. “Nuki. I require…” He continued before trailing off, realising with sickening dread that whilst his spirit was ready to engage, <em>needed</em> to engage, his nether regions were stone cold, not even a flicker, a hint, not even an infinitesimal spark that his human body was responding physically to the delight laid out before him. <br><br><br>Nuki looked up fearfully, not daring to risk a glance towards the amphibian shelf. When their eyes met Yaga’s had turned dark, darker than she had seen him look in a long time – perhaps ever. She quaked visibly and couldn’t restrain a tiny whimper from escaping her lips. The age old wizard glared at her, yet he wasn’t <em>looking</em> at her. He seemed distracted, in pain almost. All of a sudden his right hand rose up and slammed down angrily. Nuki blanched and squeezed her eyes shut awaiting the inevitable. Fenrir leapt into action the wave that sped down its length even crackled with electricity from the force of the impulse, the tongue seemed to bounce up even though it had been lying flat and batted through the air with audible force, parchment flew from piles of books as the gust of wind buffeted them. It terminated in an almighty smack as the rubbery substance clapped against Nuki’s partly exposed rear with enough force to knock her prone form off balance. The crack of whip on flesh reverberated around the room, the rapid echo almost as loud as Nuki’s pained scream as she was sent sprawling onto the floor.<br><br><br>Yaga looked down into her eyes as she knelt back up. Brown panicked watery eyes looked back. She was panting, that one immense blow had sent her heart beating insanely. Yaga could hear the thumping, he could smell the adrenaline coursing through her veins and taste the salty tears that leaked down her face. These sensations excited him, excited his spirit. The limited physicality of his human body frustrated him but marrying its capacity for mortal emotion with his superior spiritual sensibilities suddenly provided for a unique and exquisite experience. The taste of her emotion was like an intoxicating liquid fire. Like a rare liqueur that begged you to gorge upon it.&nbsp; He had an idea. He gazed down at the panic stricken creature in front of him, her life as that of an insect compared to his, less than an insect – yet capable of producing such wonderful sensations for him to feast upon.<br><br><br>“Nuki. We are going on a little journey.” He said enigmatically, flicking his wrist again with gusto – ever so slightly lighter this time – relishing the shock that exuded from her as Fenrir whipped into life, the smack surprising her immensely by coming almost instantly, the tongue had been laying just by her bottom after all. ‘She is dim-witted after all’ Yaga mused, amending his earlier characterisation of her just as quickly as he had made it.<br><br>------------------------------<br><br>Two individuals sat on a rough cut bench in the very centre of Garsal’s main square. They both wore full length black robes with hoods raised to cover their faces. Around them professionally fitted stalls in the form of large flat tables slightly angled towards potential customers bore all manner of exotic goods. Sweet smelling concoctions used as perfume, succulent colourful fruits in all manner of shapes and sizes. Gleaming blades with wide curving ends adorned another of the wide wooden expanses. Fresh smelling leather on another tailored into magnificent garments, their oiled surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. Behind these stalls was a jumble of smaller poorly built pitches containing a similar variety of goods of lesser quality – and lesser price – along with a selection of more illicit goods stowed behind the canvas fronts available for purchase if you knew they were there. Around the outer perimeter of the square across the short expanse of sandy roadway that ringed the area – despite being known as ‘the square’ Garsal centre was actual circular – were the brick built shops and establishments; expensive and exclusive due to their prime location at the heart of Garsal City. Lavish robes and dresses were displayed behind tall clear windows. Discreet entranceways down tiny side streets led to brothels favoured by the most discerning – and most wealthy. The lively scene was diffused with abrasive and ever changing sounds and smells. Sweet spices one moment before the sharp tang of horse dung wafted past as the wind changed suddenly.<br><br><br>“But when will you tell me what we are doing here master?” Nuki whispered rather petulantly. She looked around nervously as she spoke. She had been wholly unprepared for the commotion that was now happening around her. Having travelled with her master on various expeditions she had visited a number of towns and villages yet had never been taken into such a vast sprawling place and the cacophony that confronted her in the square was quite unnerving. Yaga ignored her.<br><br><br>The square was thinning out, it was still busy but the bustle from the early afternoon had died down. It was still a good few hours before the shops and permanent stalls closed and the makeshifts ones disappeared, salvaged wood packed up and carried away by their proprietors ready to battle for position the following morning. Just behind the two were a pillory and a set of stocks. One was currently occupied and providing amusement for a number of children as they pelted over ripe fruit from a discarded crate at a young barmaid who had been caught giving short change. Behind that was a wooden gibbet, the bodies of two men still dangled from the ropes, lifeless eyes open and staring from heads just visible above the trapdoors. The hanging had drawn a huge crowd, the whole square had come to a halt as indignant eyes regarded Garsal’s harsh justice being delivered. Apparently they were accomplices to a theft, the real culprit had eluded capture prompting these two to be made an example of. Usually the penalty for thievery was a forehead brand, a second strike prompting a severed hand. Yaga had observed with cool indifference whilst eagerly awaiting his servant’s reaction.<br><br><br>Nuki had blanched and wailed as the trapdoor opened, the audible snap of the men’s necks had caused her to shudder and the few moments of jerking while they twitched to stillness prompted her tears. Nuki had had no idea what was going to take place and had been near hysterical following the event. Yaga had drank greedily of her emotion, the tension and horror that gave way to a disturbance at being party to their deaths mingled with a degree of guilt for feeling thankful it was not her. Such conflict, such intensity, it was truly a joy to feast upon.<br><br><br>Along the journey he had given her to a couple of men in a tavern for a night – this time watching from afar while his body dozed in bed instead of simply ignoring her like he had with the sailors. This had been a divine experience to partake of. He’d attempted to feast upon the men bedding her as well but had tasted nothing; it appeared her familiarity with him provided the link through which his inferior human psyche could connect with his true, ancient self. Thus bringing mortal pleasure to an elevated psyche – an experience many of his kind had sought but none had achieved. That it was necessary to be residing in mortal form in the first place invoked a wicked sense of irony in Yaga. It <em>was</em> a disappointment that he could not feel it through the men, who with little consideration took turns at ploughing his young servant for most of the night before tossing her bodily from their room when they slept. He could have simply left her behind if that was the case and watched any number of humans fornicating or exercising their basest desires, all the while revelling in his joyful interpretation of the events. He would have retained his laboriously trained servant back where he most needed her, at his tree house. Despite regarding her in the same light as a favourite quill – a pleasure to use until such time as it was dulled – he had to admit he <em>did</em> require her service from time to time. He also had to admit that he did have a soft spot for her and surprised himself by realising that he might even have liked having her around. Her tenacity, optimism and cheerful disposition whilst being infuriating at times did make him feel rather attached to her. Her usefulness in the grand scheme was minimal though, he reasoned. It would be much better if she could provide him with an enjoyable distraction at the behest of a third party. And so he planned to give her away.<br><br><br>Sitting in Garsal he was now preparing to enact this plan. He simply had not the energy; or the time, to spend carting her around setting her up in situations for him to gorge upon and so intended for someone else to do it for him. Yaga had been observing people around Garsal since they arrived early in the morning, watching from afar, up close, even from their own eyes as his spirit scoured the town searching for the perfect person.<br><br><br>Suddenly he stood up, gripping Nuki’s hand and pulling her up with him. “This way little kitten.” He said with a twinkle in his eye as he set off through the crowd, towing her behind as he weaved through the crowd with agility. Beneath his long cloak he was sitting cross legged, levitating a few feet above the ground. Standing properly he could only manage a decrepit shuffle with the aid of a stick or his servants shoulder to lean on.<br><br><br>They worked their way across the square and down an alleyway off the main street. A young man could be seen moving away at a brisk pace at the far end of the narrow dusty corridor of stone. Yaga had observed him picking a number of pockets – quite boldly – then sauntering away confidently drawing no attention. The boy had chosen his targets with care, observing the girth of their purses when they made purchases, noting their lack of company and unfamiliarity with the area – out of towners, unlikely to have any acquaintances looking in their direction. Then he had waited till a number of his marks were close together before plying his trade in quick succession and with insane talent. He’d then retreated from the field without being greedy and going for the other marked individuals who’d found their ways to inconvenient locations. Yaga saw great potential as of now unharnessed; perhaps he would kill two birds with one kitten and find an individual of use in his larger scheme. <br><br><br>He was a young man, a mite older than Nuki’s 19 years but young enough to let his testosterone addle his brain at times. Fiercely talented and well schooled in the harsh realities of life Yaga also sensed a somewhat petty, selfish – even childish – streak in him. He shouldn’t have a problem finding inventive things to do with Nuki and wouldn’t suffer that pesky guilt some humans experienced when others were exploited. In other words, the perfect individual to coax the delicious responses he desired from the neko.<br><br><br>Yaga spun a basic incantation, clouding the boys mind and slowing his movements. To him it would feel as if he was continuing at the same pace yet he would be barely moving affording Yaga plenty of time to catch up to him whilst not appearing hurried. He wouldn’t want to unnerve such a delightful prospect. He didn’t want to force the boy either, he wanted him to accept it himself and act due to his own wills and whims – Yaga reasoned it would provide more interesting results than if he simply gave the boy instructions. Yaga coasted alongside the boy, dropping the incantation as he did so. Nuki looked slightly destitute; her cloak frayed at the hem from scraping over considerable terrain, mud and grass stained the sides. Yaga looked like the incongruous traveller, largely ignored and rarely feared the realm over. It was not unusual to find their kind skulking around the back alleys – a merchant and his servant, a tradesmen and his apprentice – the boy may well imagine such as this.<br><br><br>“My boy.” Yaga said casually, coasting around slightly in front of him. “I have a gift for you. A gift from the Thagda.” He added in a serious tone.<br><br><br>The Thagda was a dark legend from the tropical Mist Forest near Garsal. The man of the forest made of tree bark that ate children who strayed within its leafy borders. More than superstition there were plenty of documented accounts still present in historical tomes attesting to the validity of the spirit. In actuality Yaga himself had likely been the Thagda, he couldn’t remember – it was from before he adopted mortal form. The rumours might in part be true – he hadn’t eaten children they had just played unfortunate roles in his schemes and he may well have appeared in the form of tree bark. Regardless, a refused gift from the Thagda was said to bring bad luck whether believed or not and it was considered a bad move to refuse a gift offered in that name. Even still Yaga held up a finger to silence any protest and prepared to unobtrusively incant the boys feet to the floor if he chose to push past.<br><br><br>Without delay he lifted Nuki’s hood and discreetly sent a brief pinpoint of intense heat at the simple broach pin that fastened her cloak, causing it to break. He released his grip on her hood as the brass pin snapped, dropping her cloak to the floor revealing her in vivid detail to the boy, much to her own shocked surprise which he drank with delight.<br><br><br>Nuki flushed bright red and looked toward her master uncertainly. She wore the outfit he had instructed her to; a minute pair of tan coloured soft leather shorts and an equally tiny similarly coloured top. The top was merely a stretchy band of fabric about a hands breadth that rounded her back and cupped her breasts at the front. The upper part of the band widened in the centre and had a long curving section cut out with a thin cord hoisting up around her neck; allowing her bosom to sit proudly on display and allowing it to be proudly crammed together. The view of her cleavage left very little to the imagination. Her leather shorts strained to contain her abundant behind which also sat proudly on display for all and sundry.<br><br><br>“Here is my gift.” Yaga declared with a wry smile. As he turned to regard Nuki the look in his eye almost hinted at pride. <br>“Here this is also for you.” He added handing a small satchel to the boy. “Inside are a few bits and pieces you might need along with a certain <em>special</em> item named Fenrir.” Yaga winked mischievously at Nuki who frowned back at him pouting, her cheeks blushing furiously. Her reaction sent ecstatic shivers wriggling around his spirit, almost 200 years younger now he thought, his eyes sparkling.<br><br><br>Apart from her obvious assets she did appear rather wretched; her hair was unkept, despite the warm climate she was shivering slightly against the sudden exposure and stood barefoot on dirty cobbles pooled with discarded wash water. She was travel stained after the two week journey from the tree house and smelled faintly of hay and horses, having been forced to sleep in stables when Yaga declined paying for her bed. Altogether she resembled a country whore, desirable but worthless. Though there was a certain naïve charm in her big brown eyes that the dishevelled countenance could not quite disguise.<br><br><br>“Presently she answers to Nuki but call her what you like. Use her, sell her, discard her if you wish, she is yours to do with as you see fit. I won’t bid you take good care of her as I am not in the least concerned. She has provided at best mediocre service to me and I have no further use for her.” Without pause his black cloaked body turned and he started to float away, the hem of his robe lightly brushing the cobbles. “Good day young man.” He said adding the Outer Garsalian common mans proverb as he weaved a momentary incantation on the boy. “May luck and virility favour you.” The boy would languidly watch Yaga departing unable to engage him further.<br><br><br>When he was gone Nuki turned shyly towards the boy. “Uhm… greetings..?” She offered tentatively, biting her lip before offering a brief nervous smile. “This is a surprise to me as well…” She added honestly.<br><br><br>She had served Yaga for as long as she could remember, since she was a little girl. She had been party to his mischief in the past albeit never as a participant. She knew he was serious, his games were more elaborate than simply poking fun at someone. Her eyes flashed wider for a moment. This was her new master, she had forgotten her manners. She hastily went down into a curtsey, casting her eyes to the ground and bowing her head. Immediately she wished she hadn’t as her shorts rode up her behind and her cleavage was presented at an even more intimate angle to this complete stranger to whom she had suddenly, unexpectedly been given.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sure</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 02:49:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Bakr, as everyone called him, was working. He made his coin by stealing and, like hunting, that meant it was time intensive. He had to pick out, track, stalk, and finally steal from his prey. On top of that, the fact most people kept relatively little on them, just what they needed to shop, meant that he had to hit multiple targets a day in order to make anything decent. And, of course, there were always risks, guards. The only thing keeping him from being nervous, or scared, was a wealth of experience. But never in his life had two cloaked figures come up to him and address him. Nor had anyone ever called him boy. He watched the old man carefully, ready to run away at the slightest sign of trouble. He was fast and he was always more desperate than the person chasing him. A guard that failed to chase him would get yelled at, if he got caught he would have a hot iron placed on his head.<br><br>But as the man did nothing but talk, Bakr did nothing but listen. He said he had a gift for him which again made Bakr suspicious. Charity and generosity were hard to come by, let alone spontaneous gifts from strangers. The man had to have an ulterior motivation. Then he took off his companions cloak to reveal a beautiful, almost naked woman. Bakr was not a man who couldn't see a woman without thinking of getting her in bed, but he was young and male and as a result part of his mind fled from rational to sexual thought at the sight of Nuki. The man then said she was his, and shoved a satchel into his hands. He said it had some things he would need as well as something called a Fenrir. He looked at the old man with a look that was half accusing him of being crazy and half questioning him to see if he was sure.<br><br>Then he looked back at Nuki and began to take stock of her more thoroughly. She wasn't so different from some of the girls he'd slept with before. Of course, he tried to only sleep with a higher quality of woman these days, but he could always see her bathed first. The man told him she was called Nuki and said she was his to do with as he wished. Even abandon her. He said she had been a mediocre servant but he wasn't sure what kind of servant dressed like that. Then the man disappeared almost as quickly as he came. Bakr tried to go after him but he was frozen in place. When the man disappeared around the corner, his feet moved again but his attention was pulled back towards Nuki.<br><br>Nuki then talked, introducing herself and curtsying, declaring that this was a surprise to her as well. Bakr just stared at her, staring a bit more intently when she curtseyed because of how much of her it revealed. He stared at her for a moment more and said, "If you ever give me trouble or betray me, if you ever so little as disobey me, I will see your pretty body flayed, do you understand?" Living on the streets meant that a common reaction to the unknown was threats and violence. And he was still worried she was part of some plot on the old man's part. "Now, put your cloak back on and cover your body. The last thing I need is <em>attention</em>." He was practically hissing at her. He was aware it wasn't really her fault, but she was there to take it out on.<br><br>Luckily the old man had caught him in an alleyway leading to one of his dens. Dens weren't really homes, just abandoned properties that he knew he could hide out in and do miscellaneous tasks. One of the most important was condensing the wallets he had just stolen. Carrying too wallets was practically admitting to be a thief, so he put all the coin in one or two periodically. That was the task he had been about to set to when the old man had come up to him. He walked a few feet more and opened a door which had a flight of stairs going down. He gestured as if telling her to get inside.<br><br>Inside were a few old pieces of furniture, a few of them broken, an old broken open safe, some defaced paintings, a hookah on a table with some seats, and multiple pillows on the ground. Bakr locked the door after they were both in and began to take out the purses he had stolen, taking out the coin and putting them into one, fairly large purse. He was dressed nicely enough that the guards wouldn't think much of him carrying out too much coin, though they might question someone like Nuki with her dirt-covered person. He glanced over at Nuki occasionally before finishing.<br><br>Then he took the old man's satchel. He opened it and unceremoniously dumped out the contents. First a whip came out. The old man had been kind enough to attach a small label to it, which Bakr took off labeling, it as Fenrir. It was obvious to him the old man was telling him he could whip Nuki as much as he desired. There was also a letter. Bakr could read since his parents had wanted him to be a scribe before they had died. It was brief but basically explained the bag was magical and filled with all sorts of treats and tricks and other things he would find useful, both for dealing with Nuki and in general. It described a few of the things in it and how to get to them, and told him to try and find the rest on his own, as well as how to place objects in the bag and find them again after placing them inside.<br><br>"Alright, Nuki, sit and tell me how you intend to earn your keep. What you can do for me." He was not a charity, and if she wasn't going to be worthwhile to keep around he knew a few men who would be happy to get, and put, their hands on her.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tiaan</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 14:12:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nuki nodded enthusiastically as the man threatened her with flaying if she went against his wishes. Yaga threw similar threats at her when he wanted her to listen properly. As the man went to move off she grew hesitant and gazed uncertainly down the narrow alleyway her mage master had disappeared down. She knew he wasn’t coming back and felt naked, not just on the outside. All of her remembered life had been spent serving him. Even when he’d sent her out on her own she’d always had a clear specific task to attend to. It calmed her when the outside world threatened to stress her naïve sensibilities. No matter what happened she’d always known what her goal was. Collect this, organise that, book us passage on this vessel, purchase this list of supplies, entertain these gentlemen for the evening. Right now she had no idea what her task was; she was quite aware that he had a motive – Yaga always had a motive. He was always playing his game – yet this time she was just one of the pawns. She was no longer being afforded a view of the board. This terrified her, more than being turned into a long lived toad to remain on Yaga’s shelf – the pieces of the game often met much worse fates.<br><br>Hurriedly she pulled on her cloak. With the broach pin broken she had to hold it closed with her hand. She scampered after the man and attempted to dispel the rising worry that threatened to engulf her. She told herself that Yaga liked her; she’d been unaware that he’d been prepared to give her away to the sailors during their return from Sorrow Island, thinking as they had that she was merely theirs for the duration. Yaga had been desperately weak at the time. She’d been worried for his health and had been relieved when the sailors happened upon them. She’d gladly accommodated them despite their less than tender approach. Her rear passage tensed at the memory of their fervent fornication. More recently during their trip to Garsal, when she was given to the drunken men at the inn for the night she’d reasoned it was so she would get a free bed and wouldn’t have to sleep in the stables again. Despite the men physically kicking her out of the room afterwards she wasn’t prevented from sleeping in the hallway and had been given a spare blanket by the innkeeper’s wife. The stable would have been more comfortable and she’d have gotten more sleep but she felt that Yaga’s intentions were good. He would come back for her, she was sure of it. As soon as his task was complete he would return and reward her for playing her part – if only she could figure out what that part was. All she had to go on was Yaga’s words, she was to serve this man. So serve him she shall although she resented being called mediocre.<br><br>She had been blindly following the boy and stopped to take in her surroundings after descending into his den. The room reminded her of Yaga’s study – thick layers of dust built up over a haphazard arrangement of old furniture and miscellanea. She observed the boy transferring money between wallets and purses and wondered what he was up to. Be wary of questioning your master’s actions she told her self, struggling to hold her tongue. Yaga had given her explanations when her curiosity took the better of her and had even encouraged her to become involved in some lesser parts of his schemes. Yet at times he’d punished her severely for even the mildest interruption. She didn’t know if this man would be the same and so remained silent for the time being.<br><br>Then the satchel was upturned and a pained cringing expression appeared on Nuki’s face as Fenrir tipped out onto the low mattress. She remained staunchly silent, hoping that the man wouldn’t be as prone to its use as Yaga was. Her curiosity piqued when he started reading the letter. She was intensely interested in what was written – there may be a clue as to what part she was to play – and she shuffled uncomfortably, trying to crane her neck to take a peek. She was far from talented with writing but had been taught some letters. She could read names, places, understand shop boards, prices and the like. She struggled with grammar though and had little skill in forming letters with her own hand. Ultimately she couldn’t see what was written on Yaga’s note but made a mental note to seek it out when the opportunity arose.<br><br><em> "Alright, Nuki, sit… </em><br><br>Nuki crouched down elegantly and sat on her heels kneeling, her back was straight and her hands were held loosely in her lap - a typically obedient pose she had observed other servants using – her toes were lightly curled against the floor enabling her to rock back and stand up immediately upon command.<br><br><em> and tell me how you intend to earn your keep. What you can do for me."</em><br><br>Nuki bent forward and touched her hands and forehead to the floor. The tight shorts constricted her movement and her bottom ended up poised in the air behind her, her long feline tail hung lazily over one shoulder.<br><br>“I serve you master. Whatever you require of me.” She said seriously before sitting back up on her heels and smiling happily at the man, feline ears twitching excitedly. Nuki seemed to be happiest when she knew she was doing a good job.<br><br>She flustered when she observed the man’s expression, he seemed to be expecting more from her and looked a little impatient.<br><br>“Uh… well.” She began. What could she do? She could do lots of things but what exactly should she list? She decided to inform the man of her previous master’s requirements. “I assisted my previous master with his work. He is a mage.” Her eyes flashed for a moment, should she have told him that? Surely everyone who knew Yaga knew he was a warlock. She hadn’t been told to say otherwise but had noted the distrust with which some people treated the old mage. “I can assist you with your work too.” She added eagerly, intensely curious about what the man did for a living. “I have been taught letters. I can read and write a little. I am a neko of course, so I have skill with climbing - my master often sends… often <em>sent</em>.” She corrected, Yaga was no longer her master after all. “…me to retrieve things he could not, among the boughs of the ancient Yew in Havel Forest where we li…“ She was about to say ‘lived’ but decided against it, she thought it unwise to reveal too much about the mysterious old wizard. “Where we <em>li</em>ked to go…” She paused for a few moments, thinking about what to say next. “I am also skilled in the… uhm… physical arts…” She said, unsure of quite how to put it. She didn’t know why but something about those acts seemed shameful; they always seemed to occur behind closed doors and she noted men often attempting to disguise their lust when in certain company. “You would call it whoring..?” She added innocently, remembering the term from the village of Little Haven. They’d passed a rather lively establishment through the windows of which she’d observed scantily clad females dancing on raised platforms and sat in the laps of men engaging in mild acts of copulation. She’d read the sign reading ‘Brothel’ and had asked her master about it. Yaga had explained that they were whores and went on to say that in some ways so was Nuki. He had gone on to describe how the brothel worked and had even remark offhand that Nuki was rather skilled in the oral aspects of the trade. She figured it must be a respectable profession for those women to engage so openly where others deferred to privacy. “I can also take care of your household.” She said finally, looking around impassively at the dusty untidy room before standing up smoothly “Allow me…” She announced as she moved off to locate a broom or at the least a rag to dust with.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sure</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 00:39:45</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				If nothing else, she was obedient. Her answers were not the most elegant he had ever heard, and she spoke as if she was unaware of how the world worked. Rather flatly ignorant, in fact, of several things. More importantly, though, she had hesitated to tell him something and changed what she was going to say another time. Those were telltale signs of lying, though not of a particularly good liar. He waited until she was finished, though that displeased him greatly.<br><br>As Nuki stood up and said she was going to clean up his house, he was unable to rise with her since he was sitting cross legged. All the same, he grabbed her tail which trailed behind her and yanked it to both convey displeasure and keep her from moving. He said in that hissing voice that obviously conveyed displeasure, “Sit.” Then he yanked on her tail to pull her down again. He had not dismissed her nor implied she should clean the room. It an unnecessary task, as the room was nothing but a den to be discarded when he did not need it. Indeed, other men used the room, and he didn’t want them benefitting from something that was not theirs.<br><br>“I can see why you were called a mediocre servant, and why I was given a whip to discipline you. You have told me less than the absolute truth.” Perhaps that might be called admirable by others, but Bakr was suspicious of her and was unlikely to give her any slack or leeway at even the slightest sign of loyalty to another master. “I will forgive you for the moment because the screams of your punishment would attract attention I don’t need, but in time you will learn not to lie or suffer horribly.”<br><br>In truth, except for her agility and sexual willingness, she wasn’t much different from any number of street girls he had known, and from time to time taken advantage of. “I know not how your master afforded you, but I cannot feed people who don’t pull their own weight. I am not a charity. Nor am I a pimp.” That would be muscling in on other’s turf and he had no desire for such a conflict. Or… perhaps he did? It would certainly be worthwhile if he could manage it. Regardless, he shook such thoughts from his head for a moment.<br><br>“You are cutting my day short. You had better be worth it. Now then, go out in the marketplace and steal some clothes. Don’t let them catch you. If you’re lucky they’ll just brand you, press hot iron to your head. If you’re unlucky… well, you’re a furball, and the guards might take you as their property and use you as a pet and fucktoy until they grow bored of you. Get whatever you need, and some headdresses and things to cover your ears. Then meet me at the gates to the northwestern quarter. It should be easy to find, just go northwest of the bazaar and you'll run into a wall. There's only one gate and you can track my scent.” He presumed nekos could do that. “And sneak past rather than going through the checkpoints.<br><br>After a moment he paused and then said, “Go.” A clear command for her to set to her task. He himself went to the checkpoint, having papers and the like. He leisurely wound his way to the gate, dilapidated but obviously something that used to have splendor and marked with a giant eye at the top of it. He sat on a rock that was placed outside a gate, a chunk of an old wall that had been destroyed but not moved, and waited for Nuki. If she wasn’t there soon he would have to punish her for her tardiness.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tiaan</strong> on <strong>01-04-2011, 02:45:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nuki tentatively pushed open the loose wooden door of the den and stepped out into the street. She jumped as the door swung shut behind her, faded wooden boards banging against the stone doorway. The sun was falling yet the cobbles still retained warmth from the day and she reluctantly padded back down the alley, following the route she had taken earlier. She was terrified, she had never stolen anything in her life. <br><br>Were the threats of soldiers branding her real? If the earlier hanging said anything about Garsal attitude to crime then it most certainly was. As she rounded onto the main road she found herself idly wondering what a fucktoy was. Maybe being one of those wouldn’t be so bad, she wondered. Shaking her head to clear the distracting thoughts she focused on her task and wondered how best to go about it. She should’ve asked the man for advice but the cold look in his eye had scared her.<br><br>The square was sparse, a number of the permanent stalls had already closed and were bare of product and person; just wide expanses of varnished wood indicated that there’d been anything there. She went and sat on the bench she’d occupied with Yaga a short while ago and tried to build up her courage. The lifeless corpses had been cut down from the scaffold but the barmaid was still locked into the pillory, forced to bend over with wrist and neck fixed in place by the heavy wooden frame. Too high for her to kneel yet low enough that it forced her into a very uncomfortable position. Nuki felt a mild empathy with her. She was being left alone for now, the children from earlier bored of tormenting her. Nuki wondered what it was like to punish someone – the girl had surely done wrong to end up there after all – and stepped over to the discarded crate of spoiled fruit. She hefted a large overripe tomato and regarded the girl impassively. She received an incredulous look from the imprisoned girl and tried to ignore the feeling of guilt that popped up. The tomato in her hand was soft, the skin had split and juices oozed out over Nuki’s hand. It smelled sweet and dipped her tongue to taste it but winced at the bitter flavour of the ruined food. Hefting the item she pulled back her hand and then let it fly. Nuki’s aim was good and it exploded over the side of the girls face, splattering slimy chunks of tomato in a halo around the girls head. Nuki offered a shy smile to the girl and received a rather foul insult in reply. Nuki frowned and tossed another tomato which also found its target. Nuki smiled happily and gave a curt nod before moving off into the square.<br><br>Despite the lack of people Nuki didn’t find her task too hard. There were a number of stallholders engaged in fervent negotiations with shrewd customers looking to make end-of-day deals for bulk. The jumble of makeshift stalls changed from day to day; sometimes an individual could try for a week without managing to get a pitch – competition was brutal – so these closing time transactions were common. A lot of the customers vying for deals worked for the permanent stalls and would be reselling the same items the following day with a severe mark-up.<br><br>Pelting the girl with rotten fruit had given Nuki some confidence. It seemed it was ok to do things that felt bad in Garsal so she proceeded to lift items from stalls without worry. She would pretend to browse at a different stall while carefully picking out the item she wanted further down. She wore one hand inside her cloak and the other grasping it shut at the collar. When the owner was engaged in conversation she would casually stroll past and swipe the item pulling it within her cloak with her free hand. She procured a number of items; long white loose pants, a calf length blue woollen skirt that could hide her tail, a frilly white blouse and a white bonnet that fastened under the chin with soft frills around the rim.<br><br>She was mightily pleased with herself by the time an official looking gentleman starting to wandered among the stalls calling for the owners to close up. The stone built shops stayed open and she eagerly eyed a jewellery store. Surely it wouldn’t be any harder in there she reasoned.<br><br>Two hours later, after being chased by guards, crawling through a sewerage tunnel, exiting out into the sea and washing herself off and re-entering the city by scaling the wall she found her way to the gate. She had lost her cloak along the way but had managed to retain all of her stolen goods – plus the expensive gold bracelet from the jewellery store that had prompted the chase. She had changed into the long skirt, blouse and bonnet and was, rather foolishly, wearing the gold bracelet proudly on her wrist. Her clothes were still damp but her skin was dry. Alighting in front of her master she looked up nervously; she was rather pleased with herself for evading capture and retaining all of the goods but was very aware of how long it had taken.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sure</strong> on <strong>02-04-2011, 11:44:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Bakr had quit in annoyance and left where he had been waiting at the gate. That said, he hadn't gone very far. He lived in the old Watch Barracks which would have been used by the men who manned the dilapidated walls. It was positioned just on the inside of the gate since, after all, the Watch would have entered the fray if anyone had entered through the gate. The difference in structure and relatively open (though littered) area around it made it stand out from the other structures. It was a single floor, unadorned, and rectangular. The same symbol that was over the gate was faded but still visible on the Barracks. Litter was all over the field and the fence had gaping holes in it.<br><br>The inside of the barracks was one open area with an odd looking lattice over it. It was made to build temporary walls or hang cloth to the same effect. There were a few permanent fixtures, such as bathrooms, fireplaces, and a few offices, but those were a small section of a larger area. There were openings for windows but they contained no trace of glass and were boarded up. The inside was considerably cleaner than the outside, free of dust or mold though not done perfectly. There were a few miscellaneous pieces of furniture clustered together near one of the fireplaces, the only one that was lit, plus various crates and the like, but the vast majority of the space was empty.<br><br>Whether or not he was squatting depended on whether the law still considered it squatting when the property was unowned and of ambiguous legal status. Not that the law was well enforced in this sector of the city.<br><br>When he saw her approaching, he looked up from the paper he was writing on. It was a ledger, what he owed and had to pay to survive minus what he had taken. She was going to be an extra pressure on this. Fenrir and the satchel was on the table next to him. He picked up the whip and gestured with it, "You're late." When he pointed it accusingly, holding the whip's length as was traditional, it slipped out of his grip and found its way to her bum. The gesture was not fast enough to produce much of an impact but made him give the whip a funny look. He gave it a sharp crack away from her but it curved around and the blow found its way to her ass. <br><br>His first thought was who would take the time to enchant a whip like that. It seemed wasteful. The second was how he could use it. "If anything goes missing, it comes out of your skin." By which he meant he would whip her. He looked her over and then shook his head, "You look like you came from over the sea." Her fashion was out of step with the city's. All the same, she had done as he said. "Go clean yourself. It grows late and you will prove to me you actually have some skill with men before we go to sleep. But if I wanted to sleep with a dirty looking streetwalker I would find one."<br><br>He returned to his ledger as an excuse to dismiss her only to find he had finished it. That only annoyed him more. He waited until she was gone and changed into nightwear. He went over and set about to several basic tasks and, when he was done, he went over to the bed. He then went over and locked the door, set a few traps, and went back to the bed by which time Nuki shouldn't have been done. As he walked across the giant room he thought to himself he was going to go into the bath after her if she wasn't out.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tiaan</strong> on <strong>02-04-2011, 21:53:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nuki let out a little squeak as Fenrir’s tongue wobbled forward and lightly tapped her behind. She let out her breath and then her eyes went wide as she watched the man fling his hand out. She braced herself as the ponderous weighty tip strained in conflict with itself. The rippling shockwave travelled first the way it should have done then defied logic curving back on itself. The flat rounded end hung in the air momentarily before flinging itself at her behind resulting in a dull thwack as the rubbery material collided with the back of her skirt, the force proportional to the mans initial flick. She was glad he didn’t do it again and nodded seriously at his threat.<br><br>The bathroom confused her. Yaga’s tree house had a tank on the roof that collected rainwater. A mechanical handle operated a small opening at the bottom of the tank which fed through a pipe. An enchanted device even heated the water and ejected it out over the bath. The precarious piping tended to knock from side to side banging loudly against the wall when it was in use and it disturbed Yaga too much for her to bathe herself. Naturally she assisted her old frail master so was familiar with its operation – it tired him out using magic overly so he relied on his servant. Nuki wondered how he was getting on alone. She herself took to washing at the small forest river – since she could make the precarious climb down to the forest floor on her own she was allowed to spend her free time at the river. Yaga could always sense where she was if he needed her.<br><br>The bath in the old barracks was alien to her. The round tubs were the only things she vaguely recognised. There was a large cauldron sat atop a sooty grating in the middle of the room. She figured it was to heat the water but saw no fuel and had no flint. There was a squat circular wall surrounding a deep hole in the corner of the room and she caught the mineral scent of water emanating from it. Eventually she figured out that it was a well – it looked different to the ones she had seen before – and drew up a few pails full which she lugged over to one of the tubs. She was used to washing with cold water but this was frigid coming from deep underground and she gasped as she tipped the first bucket full over her. The freezing liquid ran down her body seeming to invade every sensitive nook. She hopped from side to side frantically as the chilly water ran down to the floor of the tub. She took it more carefully after that, wetting a scrubbing brush and bringing it to her skin instead of trying to immerse herself.<br><br>Once finished she collided with the man as she exited the bathroom, too preoccupied guessing how the bath was supposed to be used to look where she was going. She was dressed in her tiny shorts and top again having hung her new clothes to dry. Slight bumps could be seen beneath the soft leather as her rigid frigid nipples poked against the garment. <br>“S..sorry master.” She said nervously as she looked up, rubbing the spot on her forehead that had bumped his chin. <br>The man had said he wanted to see her skill with men so she attempted to distract him from the incident.<br>“You would like me to entertain you master?” She said with a hopeful smile, trying not to look towards where Fenrir lay coiled.<br>She was not really sure what <em>skill</em> he’d been referring to though. When she had been with men it seemed normal for them to simply shove her into position and plough whichever of her holes they decided upon. Some had moaned excitedly that she was good, or that it felt nice then some had struck her and called her names but in either situation she wasn’t aware of doing anything in particular. Apart from her oral skill, she was confident with that – was it even the same thing? She didn’t know. It seemed distinctly separate. Yaga required oral entertainment and the burly sweaty men took her elsewhere. Which kind was her new master?<br>Nuki hovered uncertainly, the shame at accidentally head butting her master was feeling more and more acute by the second. She decided she should just ask and tentatively looked up into his appraising eyes.<br>“With… my mouth?” She enquired, her voice pitching up into a slight squeak at the end as she pointed a finger dumbly at her lips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When god gave you to me he never said that you were mine... [Sure &amp; Tiaan]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sure</strong> on <strong>03-04-2011, 02:48:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When she collided with him, Bakr just looked at her. The collision wasn’t serious enough to even make him fall backward. The incident didn’t seem to affect him, and indeed he didn’t care. He did notice her body and the new wetness that clung to her. She looked much better like this, he mused. Then she ruined it by speaking. “That is what I said.” Did she think he had changed his mind in the space of a shower? Then she went on to ask whether he meant with her mouth. Bakr rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. By the Gods, she really was dim wasn’t she?<br><br>He smiled for a moment and put his hand behind her head as if he was about to bring her up for a kiss. Then he frowned and used the hand to grab her hair. He dragged her over to the bed and then with a combination of a kick to the rear and a shove pushed her onto it. “You said you were skilled in the physical arts.” He said, “With your mouth, with your cunt, with your ass. I don’t care, but your purpose here is to serve me and if you don’t you’re entirely useless.” And useless things were disposed of.<br><br>He quickly and violently undressed her, throwing the two strips of cloth, for they were barely anything more, off to the side. Then he reached for Fenrir, the boot to her bum giving him an idea. He flicked his wrist sending the whip crashing down on her rear. Then again, and again. He found himself getting caught up in it and continued, going harder and faster, until her bum turned from the pink of skin to the bright pink of a slap to the red of a thoroughly thrashed bottom. He didn't slow down, he didn't even put too much thought into it. His arm tired and he continued, enjoying her reaction as much as her beautiful red ass. By the end he found himself panting and smiling, finding the experience surprisingly sexual. He swallowed to calm himself down, noticed his dick was hard now, and said, “Come here and suck my cock, furball.”<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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