The Awakening (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Solaine on 09-11-2008, 13:06:49</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Awakening (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>09-11-2008, 13:06:49</strong>
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				<br><br><br><div align="center">~~~~~</div><br><br><br>"Listen, Rowan, you have to take a vacation," Carly insisted.&nbsp; "You know I can handle the studio until you return."<br>&nbsp;<br>"Vacation? What's that?"&nbsp; Rowan Silliphant said, absently, as she sifted through the mail in her office at the back of Silli's Dance Studio.&nbsp; Carly sat on the corner of her desk, long leg swinging and gum popping out of her mouth.&nbsp; For all her rather quaint taste in vintage clothes, pink and blue anime-styled hair, and quirky personality, one would never guess that she had been a classically trained ballerina, and a very good one at that.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Carly glowered at her boss.&nbsp; "You can't tell me that fainting spell you had yesterday was nothing.&nbsp; You NEVER faint.&nbsp; You need to take a break."&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"This is the busy season."&nbsp; A touch of annoyance in violet eyes at the reminder of what happened the day before... and in front of all the students in her class, too.&nbsp; No, she wasn't the fainting type, and that blackout had scared her silly because of what she'd seen and felt before the darkness overcame her...&nbsp; She shrugged, both to Carly and mentally to herself to dispel those disturbing images from her mind's eye. "Dina asked for a vacation first.&nbsp; I'm all right, I promise.&nbsp; So stop worrying about me, will you?"&nbsp; She finished neatly sorting the mail into their respective cubbyholes, to be opened and dealt with the next day, then started putting her purse together.&nbsp; "Aren't you going home soon?"<br>&nbsp;<br>Carly got up from the desk with a sigh.&nbsp; One thing she had learned about Rowan-- the woman was a shade on the stubborn side.&nbsp; "Okay, I'll leave you to lock up, then?"&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Rowan nodded with a smile as she stood up behind her desk. "Good night, hun. See you tomorrow."&nbsp; Then she placed her hand on Carly's arm and squeezed. "And thanks for worrying about me." <br><br>"We can't help worry about you sometimes.&nbsp; Any other woman would have dropped dead at the pace you push yourself, and ..."&nbsp; There was a quizzical light in her eyes, and was about to say that she worried about the strange, preoccupied expressions on Rowan's face that she sometimes spied when she thought no one was looking.&nbsp; She shrugged and smiled.&nbsp; "Just take care of yourself, OK?"&nbsp; She gathered her things-- she always seemed to be carting several totes, shopping bags and whatnot with her--- and blew Rowan a kiss on the way out.<br>&nbsp;<br>Rowan followed after her at a more deliberate pace. Where Carly was quirky, she was almost languid in her movements, moving slowly but gracefully, as if she had all the time in the world.&nbsp; The only time she seemed to be moving quickly was when she danced.&nbsp; And compared to Carly's eccentric choices in clothing, Rowan's tended to be almost somber, more elegant, a carefully selected wardrobe from Sach's balancing femininity and the need to be taken seriously as a businesswoman.&nbsp; Where Carly was almost anorexic-thin, Rowan was voluptuous but healthily so, perhaps a bit on the thin side in her arms and legs and waist, but softly filled out at the hips and bosom. Her responsibilities as&nbsp; instructor, owner, and manager of the dance studio definitely kept her body in peak shape.<br>&nbsp;<br>Ever since she had started the dance studio a year ago, it had grown so much that she had taken on five more employees just in the past two months.&nbsp; And she was seriously considering moving the studio to bigger facilities. All the rooms on the third floor of the Lexington Avenue building were nearly full for most of the day, and packed almost every night.&nbsp; And their hours seemed to keep getting later and later... as it was now.<br>&nbsp;<br>She was ridiculously proud of her studio.&nbsp; She had worked so hard to build it up from just a handful of students teaching them ballroom dance and some classical ballet and jazz, and very gratifying to see it bloom to the thriving, noisy place it now was.&nbsp; No, she didn't need vacations.&nbsp; She could quite happily spend her entire life in the studio, mind and body productively occupied with something she loved to do anyway.&nbsp; A vacation would give her too much time to think, to wonder... and with the frightening frequency of her erotic visions, that was the last thing she wanted.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Even going home at night was an ordeal for her.&nbsp; That's why she loitered in her office every night, alone or with anyone who cared to keep her company long after the students had gone home.&nbsp; She had even considered living at the studio, or at least part of the time, turning one of the rooms into a bedroom, but it wasn't in the lease contract so she'd had to abandon the thought.&nbsp; Knowing what awaited her...the emptiness that echoed in her apartment, the loneliness that tore at her from nowhere, the intensity of feeling that there was something more than this... and now those visions that seemed to take her bodily, wholly... she was, frankly, quite terrified of going home nowadays.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Was she going mad?&nbsp; What if that fainting spell did mean it was the beginning of the end for her mind?&nbsp; The thought of losing all of this ... the work of her hands, the <em>satisfying</em> work of all her talents, passion and skill... that in itself would make her go crazy.&nbsp; So she resolutely refused to think about it, and that meant working harder than ever and NOT going on vacations.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Carrying her purse and light coat over her arm, she went through the studio turning off lights and making sure all was ready for the next day, then she exited through the main entrance, locked up the doors, took the stairs down to street level and left the building, turning her feet towards her apartment building several blocks away.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>It was a chilly autumn night, and she turned up the collar of her cashmere coat and pulled down the matching cap over her long, thick dark hair, shivering as a sudden sharp wind swept down the street and up her skirt and down the back of her neck.&nbsp; At that late hour, the city still buzzed with activity, but the streets she took were always relatively quiet.&nbsp; Her hand tightened on the tazer in her coat pocket.&nbsp; So far, she hadn't had cause to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared.<br>&nbsp;<br>The tapping of her high heels on the pavement was a lonely tattoo, the same pattern of sound that accompanied her night after night... no whispers or laughter from a lover by her side and the tapping of masculine heels shortened to match hers, no excited gossiping from girlfriends on their way to the club.&nbsp; By the time she reached her block, she was almost running, almost looking forward to the loneliness of her apartment after the flow of life she witnessed on the streets of New York reminded her so sharply how achingly empty hers was.<br>&nbsp;<br>She took the stairs to her apartment on the seventh floor.&nbsp; For some reason, she disliked taking the elevator, no matter how tired she was.&nbsp; She was almost dragging when she reached her door and unlocked it, went in, and closed it behind her.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Her hand automatically reached for the switch, and when the lights didn't go on, she went very still in almost total darkness.<br>&nbsp;<br>She heard the swift brushing sound of fabric on fabric, felt the dank chill of someone's breath on her cheek... and in wild terror she whirled toward the door and groped for the knob.&nbsp; But by then it was too late.&nbsp; Long, strong, cold fingers wrapped around her neck-- something thick and woolly pushed against her nose and mouth... then blackness darker than the one in her apartment drowned her mind.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>10-11-2008, 23:39:58</strong>
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				Ash watched, a drop of sweat forming on his brow. Just a tiny bit more, he thought, and as long as I don't screw it up, I'm fine. Otherwise, dead. He twisted the vice, expecting to hear cracks. "Do you have anything to say yet?" He asked. In return, nothing. Until, finally with one last little turn, he heard that magical little crackle.<br><br>He released the vice, pulled the black vinyl disc free, and gave it a small kiss. "Good girl!", he said to the record. It was only one of a handful of originals of a concert by Led Zeppelin in 1972. As far as he could tell, it was priceless. The problem when he got his hands on it was... really only something he could perceive. It was the faintest odd little scratch on the second song. But he knew small moves can fix most things. He fixed it by using a vice on it... something that most would horrified at even thinking of. But Ash wasn't 'most'.<br><br>Standing nearly six-foot-six, with long black hair and John Lennon style sunglasses that seemed to never leave from their low-perched stand on the end of his nose, he had this very intense 'hippy look' to him. When he was younger, he was nearly monstrous in size, full of muscle. But in the last decade, he let himself waste away. Now he was mostly average in build, still wiry in strength, which was surprising to him.<br><br>Ash was obsessed with music. But not only that, with sounds themselves. He was always in search for perfection in a note, a voice... even one day taking apart his phone to try to get it to ring with just that perfect pitch. Most thought he was crazy. But nobody could deny... when he had it right, and he was proud... yes, it did seem more perfect. And music, nobody on the planet, he was sure, was more of an authority on any music genre. He was a walking music encyclopedia.<br>Garbed in his usual, sandals, shorts and Hawaiian shirt, he went out to grab the store sign and flip the open sign to the opposite side. Yes, he sadly smiled, we're closed. He hated closing. Not for greed of money but because he preferred the night. But it made no sense for business was already slow enough.<br><br>As he started to lock the door, a couple walked up. Ahhh, they look like they are on a mission, he thought. I'll let them in.<br><br>And they did seem to know exactly what they wanted. The lady smiled to him as they both rushed towards the classical music section. The man kept looking up suspiciously, making Ash watch them. Think you can shoplift from me? Despite his casual, spaced-out look, Ash didn't suffer any slights to his interest.<br><br>The two suddenly came walking up, excitement from their find, they were nearly twitching. Laying down the album, 'František Brixi - The lost classics', Ash looked up over his dark glasses, "Interesting selection. I couldn't help but notice your excitement at finding it."<br><br>The man, in the briefest of expressions, seemed to sneer. But the woman, who Ash suddenly noticed was very beautiful in an exotic way, smiled. Even though she was covered in far too much make-up, which he noticed the man appeared to be as well, she was very beautiful. "Sir", she said with a slight accent, eastern European, Ash thought... "Can you please play this record for us, just to make sure it's still in good condition?"<br><br>"I can play bits... but honestly folks, I was just closing", he said as he moved towards the record player. Most records, he knew by glance how they were. This one, he wasn't sure of. In fact, he didn't recognize this item from his inventory. Must be losing it, he thought, grinning. He knew his mind was far too sharp to be losing 'anything', but he was always hopeful. Ash had strange opinions about himself. He was nearly always hoping for some sort of problem to show he was just like everybody else.<br><br>Clearing his throat, the man said in also a very strong accent, "Actually, sir... if you play the second song only, we'll be happy."<br><br>Ash turned, with a very serious expression, "Look, I will help you out as much as possible! But please... quit... calling me.. sir! Most just call me either Ash, Ashen, or Dude. And some... well, at least one in particular... calls me asshole." Here, he started to chuckle thinking of his ex-girlfriend. They lived together for five years. She tried changing him... for five years. The entire time, he never once told her he loved her. In fact, he never said those words to anybody, always feeling as though that true 'one' was still out there, waiting for him to find.<br><br>Placing the record down on the turntable, he then carefully placed the needle down just before the start of the second song on side one. It started in a strange way. Classical music but with the faint sound of 'other' types of instruments. It was disturbing but in an interesting, almost very dark way. Ash started to comment to the couple but then... something else.<br><br>Sounds... strange sounds that were definitely playing backwards, flowed along with the guitar-sounding instrument. Ash shook his head, realizing something... somehow, was not right, "What the f-"... ending mid-sentence, his tongue couldn't move. He started to turn, to get a drink, then froze. His entire body was unable to move. His mind was screaming as he realized he was starting to fall backwards. Yet hands did catch him. The couple! Oh good, he was happy they were trying to help.<br><br>Hmm... is stuffing me in a giant sack... helping me? The two were talking fast in some other language. The language was familiar but only vaguely. Ash had no idea what they were saying. But soon, nothing mattered. For the voices which spoke familiar gibberish were fading fast. Soon, Ash was snoring like a baby inside the large canvass bag.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>12-11-2008, 01:39:54</strong>
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				The bed was large, almost monstrously so... and the woman peering into the vision, standing outside the window into the bedroom, understood very soon why it needed to be very large.&nbsp; The man and woman on the bed were insatiable for each other, and were all over that bed of rumpled black silk, the secretive warmth of candlelight flickering over their heaving bodies... the long, muscular body of the man, the thick back muscles rippling gorgeously with each thrust of powerful hips into the writhing woman under him, was so beautiful that the watcher itched to run her own hands over him just as the woman on the bed did, freely, hungrily, her frenzied fingers clawing, scratching, kneading... hands cupping that spectacular male ass and urging him wildly into her, her own long legs entwined around her lover's body, her long dark hair flowing back as she arched up into him again and again to meet that pounding assault between her widespread, creamy thighs, welcoming each forceful stab of those potently virile hips with wanton moans and endearments... <br>&nbsp;<br>The watcher at the window found her own body pressing against the pane, her fingers and nose against the cool glass, her own womb throbbing with an inexplicably powerful longing... Oh, she would give anything to be the woman on that bed... at the same time berating herself for her shockingly voyeuristic hunger.<br>&nbsp;<br>But then, she had grown tired of being the watcher in so many of her visions and dreams.&nbsp; Having been a captive audience to them, as it were, she had just about had it with being hands-off... which was why that vision in the dance studio had shaken her so much.&nbsp; For the first time, she had participated in the vision... she had become the woman ... and the man with the sinfully beautiful body had fucked her thoroughly until she fainted from her shattering orgasm, right there in front of her shocked and bewildered salsa students.<br>&nbsp;<br>And now... as her mind subconsciously willed it... she was sucked right through that window like an incorporeal phantom, parts of her dragging behind in the air like bits of random photographic exposures ... and in just moments she WAS the woman on the bed... and she was climbing dangerously high towards another turbulent orgasm.<br>&nbsp;<br>Oh lord... her panting breaths forced through her parted mouth with each thrust of him filling and stroking her like a muscle-car piston... the wet, slapping sound of their flesh in wild, furious coupling... the feel of the hard flesh of his buttocks under her clawing hands... breathing in the intoxicating scent of raw sex and delicious male through her nose and lips from his damp, hot skin... their lips hungrily devouring the other with madly circling tongues, his own lips alternating between hers and sucking on the ripe, swollen peaks of her breasts... but as usual, she couldn't quite make out his face, being so close to hers...<br>&nbsp;<br>NOOOOOOOO! Was she going mad?&nbsp; Frantically, she wrenched herself away, in body and mind, tearing herself from that all too delightfully, graphically vivid dream... and her eyelashes snapped open wide in horror that she had actually slipped into madness already.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>And as her eyes opened wide, perhaps rather groggily, she had good reason to question her sanity.&nbsp; So many things weren't quite right on any level of reality... <br>&nbsp;<br>Her breasts rose and fell with her distress (she refused to believe she had been on the verge of an orgasm), her breath still coming in gasping pants...and the fact that she was wearing only her lacy black bra and her thong was the first thing that struck her mind. The next was that her arms were cramped behind her and bound tightly with rope, as well as her ankles.&nbsp; The third was that she was in a lurid pornographer's dream of a sex den with a large circular bed in the middle of the room, draped with enough red satin to clothe a small village. And lastly, but most importantly and shockingly, her bound, half-naked body was draped intimately over the long length of a large man, his body also bound like hers, his colorful Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to expose his chest.&nbsp; And the reason she couldn't see his face was because his seemed to be buried between the soft, agitated swell of her breasts...<br>&nbsp;<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>19-11-2008, 01:38:48</strong>
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				A dream. Yes, grasping onto whatever semblance of thought possible, he knew somehow this was a dream. Who he was, however, was not part of his knowledge. Many names popped into the forefront of his mind but he discarded them as quickly as they did. There was no order to them. Yet they all seemed oddly reasonable.<br><br>This dream was odd, yes even more strange than the conveyor belt of names that constantly threw themselves into his grasp to either take hold of or toss down in the growing pile. I’m in a woman’s body, the nameless dreamer thought for a crazy moment. Blinking eyes which suddenly came into… awareness, he tried to stop whatever movements were occurring. But no, ‘she’, whoever she or he was, she kept walking. Blinking eyes again, he realized… or she realized. No, dammit! I’m not a ‘she’, he thought in a somewhat raised voice… in the ‘head’. With that, ‘she’, and not ‘he’, stopped. He could just barely make out her thoughts, wondering most likely about that voice ‘she’ heard in ‘her’ head.<br><br>Focusing on her forward movement, he realized ‘she’ was walking through a lightly wooded area. In the distance, there was a structure. A rather large, dark… castle? Inside ‘her’ head, he shook his own. A castle. Ok, definitely a dream. But still, who the hell am I.. and why am I apparently the split personality inside a woman’s head? I’ll have to tell Doc Brown about that, he thought. Doc Brown…. Yes, that is something real. Ash… my name is Ash. Yet as all this wonderful enlightenment was blasting its way through into the extra mind inside this woman’s mind, the small castle was suddenly coming much closer. With a forceful thought, ‘stop!’, he did convince this warm shell he was in, to stop.<br><br>Ok, he thought… where am I? No answer. Concentrating, he brought his… or her hands up. Ahhh, progress. Next, and this took more ‘thought’, he looked down at himself. Ohhh, very nice he said through ‘her’ lips softly, admiring the body he was seeing. Too bad I’m in it as I am, wishing he was in this lovely body a more natural way. ‘Her’ hands, he moved to the hips, slowly moving them up under a somewhat tight blouse. Ah yes, farther… until… Ouch! She slapped me? Somehow, yes, he got a mental slap. But then, he realized it wasn’t too harsh a hit… plus he detected a slight girlish (and very lovely) giggle.<br><br>And then… she was off again. Determined to get to this place, eh? He sarcastically thought. So, he sat back inside this mind… reaching out to enjoy the feeling of this body he was in. With every move, he realized certain parts were being brushed upon lightly by the fabric which surrounded. Well, I might not be able to feel with my hands but I can feel with my mind, he grinned somewhere inside this mind he seemed trapped inside.<br><br>Kind of lost inside these wonderful physical stimulating sensations, he came to instantly when the eyes were suddenly watching through a window. Ohhhh, what is this, he wondered, grinning inside. Holy… look at those two! A man and a woman. Not just any woman but as far as he could tell, ‘The’ perfect woman. Everything from her gorgeous flowing hair which reached down just to the top of the most perfectly round bottom, to the legs which seemed clamped like a vice around the muscled giant over her. He could just make out her screams of pleasure as he impaled her ruthlessly.<br><br>Suddenly, he knew something was different. Ohhhh my… his head thumped forward. ‘Her’ head thumped forward also, so taken by his sudden shock. A warmth… a wonderful, intense, crazy warmth was spreading below. It was the most unusual yet awesome feeling he had felt. My god, he thought inside her mind… ‘she’ is having an orgasm! And as much as he felt it spreading, in it’s magical way… he also felt himself totally there as well. I might be a mind inside this body… but I am somehow fully here. His/’Her’ hands reached down… his to take hold, to squeeze, to stroke and somehow relieve this wonderful building pressure… but instead it felt a wonderful pulsating mound. His hand rubbed against it and he felt it! Oh god, why couldn’t I have been born a woman? He yelled/sighed/thought inside this lovely woman’s mind. His hand furiously… or her hand… rubbed through dampening material. Suddenly his eyes focused on the pair inside the window. YES, he thought.. I have to get in there… yet he was thinking not about the guy but somehow getting his face, his (or ‘her’) entire body under that gorgeous goddess inside.<br><br>Oh but he always had this ‘cynical’ thought. When something was too good, it was usually going to end before it got amazingly good. He felt this sudden pull… away from the window as his/’her’ feet started to drag and grind into the ground to stop it… NO! Please, he prayed… I’ll do anything! I’ll be a good person! Please just an hour… god an hour and my life is then pure and good! But no luck… he was suddenly spinning in a black void… sucked out of this wonderful dream. Spiraling out and away. Usually this is the point where he would blink open his eyes with a few expletives to follow as he realized it was time to wake up.<br><br>Hmm, but this time… a wonderful dream was replaced by… well, a very nice wake up. Soft… his eyes blinked open but they were surrounded by something, making everything very dark. Something very soft. Starting to make a sound, realizing he was under… yes definitely a woman… his lips moved against very soft, very full breasts. Yeah, he thought, I might forget my name, but these beauties… he could tell without even seeing… I know what these are. Feeling this warm wonderful body squirming against his, he realized it probably wasn’t entirely normal for him to be under her. Thinking back, he didn’t remember being out the night before. So no, not a one night stand. Then slowly he recalled the foreigners in his store. Shit, did they at least lock up? Least they could do while they kidnap me, remembering being stuffed in a large bag.<br><br>Struggling himself, he realize he was tied, and the woman was tied to him. With both of them moving, or trying to move, suddenly they were face to face.<br><br>And what… a face. His glasses were somehow still on, but askew… yet he realized now why he had remained single. He was waiting for her. Ok, dramatic… but what other thought slips through a guy’s mind as he is tied under a voluptuous woman… after his mouth has been clamped against one of her perfectly formed breasts.<br><br>No, no, no, no, no…he willed himself as he felt himself totally coming to life down below. It has been rock hard when he woke but faded. Now, it was throbbing wildly (his eyes glancing quickly down) between the legs of this lovely woman who seemed to be fully straddling him. But no, it didn’t listen. And it was pressing against her, full length as it stretched upwards inside his pants.<br><br>Feeling slightly awkward but not even considering trading this moment for any other, and praying he’s not simply in another dream, as he cleared his throat, “I guess I should have first”, nudging with a nervous grin, “introduced myself… “, watching her eyes… wow, she is beautiful! “My name is Ash, but you… you can call me anything you want.” Then as if his body relaxed getting that out of the way, he twitched and throbbed like crazy below. Please, he thought, please help me out here… hoping ‘it’ would calm down.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>22-11-2008, 04:16:03</strong>
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				<em>Struggling himself, he realize he was tied, and the woman was tied to him. With both of them moving, or trying to move, suddenly they were face to face. </em> <br>&nbsp;<br>Rowan wriggled and squeaked, and the man under her did the same... and the way their bare flesh rubbed against each other, her smooth skin sliding over a very male, slightly-hair roughend chest, reminded her sharply of what she'd just struggled to get out of ---- candles everywhere... huge bed... a very virile, wild stallion of a man... orgas---&nbsp; No, NO orgasm.&nbsp; She refused to believe it, despite the dripping wetness between her legs.<br>&nbsp;<br>Finally, all their awkward maneuverings brought her face to just a scant inch above his so that they were almost nose to nose, and she tried to toss her hair without much success out of her eyes.&nbsp; This view seemed familiar to her somehow... now where had she seen him before? He's gorgeous, she thought involuntarily... Surely... surely not the man in her visions and dreams... no, no, NOT the man who had just been so close to giving her a frenzied send-off to orbit... For god's sake, she had to believe that reality had nothing to do with fantasy, so this man was NOT the man in her fantasies.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Then why did the feel of his hard shifting body under her, his warm breath on her cheek as she stared down at him, the very intimate way his eyes gazed into hers... seem to nudge something in her, a tiny push against a locked door she hadn't even noticed until now...<br><br><em>And what… a face. His glasses were somehow still on, but askew… yet he realized now why he had remained single. He was waiting for her. Ok, dramatic… but what other thought slips through a guy’s mind as he is tied under a voluptuous woman… after his mouth has been clamped against one of her perfectly formed breasts.<br>&nbsp;<br>No, no, no, no, no…he willed himself as he felt himself totally coming to life down below. It has been rock hard when he woke but faded. Now, it was throbbing wildly (his eyes glancing quickly down) between the legs of this lovely woman who seemed to be fully straddling him. But no, it didn’t listen. And it was pressing against her, full length as it stretched upwards inside his pants.<br><br>Feeling slightly awkward but not even considering trading this moment for any other, and praying he’s not simply in another dream, as he cleared his throat, “I guess I should have first”, nudging with a nervous grin, “introduced myself… “, watching her eyes… wow, she is beautiful! “My name is Ash, but you… you can call me anything you want.” Then as if his body relaxed getting that out of the way, he twitched and throbbed like crazy below. Please, he thought, please help me out here… hoping ‘it’ would calm down.</em> <br><br>... And the door in her mind remained locked.&nbsp; "Pervert!" Rowan blurted out a bit hysterically.&nbsp; "What do you want from me?" Perhaps an inane question, but some of the drug that had knocked her out still swirled in her system, making her mind sluggish and paranoid.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>And... well, really, what else was one to think when one was disrobed down to one's underwear, on a bed designed for debauchery, bound face to face to a hot guy who was very close to being disrobed himself, and...and... apparently finding the situation arousing as well, if that hard bulge nudging her between her thighs was anything to go by.&nbsp; Her next frantic thought was that they were being filmed by even more perverts, and this was some sort of pornographer's cheesily decorated studio... but a swift look around the bedroom through her disheveled hair revealed no such outrageous scenario.&nbsp; They were completely alone in the dim, candle-lit room.<br>&nbsp;<br>She sucked in a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Think, Rowan, think... how could the man have bound himself so thoroughly like this?&nbsp; Unless he had help.&nbsp; But why??<br>&nbsp;<br>The embarrassed grin, the tilted sunglasses, the impression she had of disarming appeal on his handsome face... were weighed against that very blatant erection now rubbing against her moisture, which she refused to believe kept flowing from that rubbing... and her suspicions won. No matter how cute he was!<br>&nbsp;<br>"Is this some sort of prank?"&nbsp; she demanded accusingly, trying to wriggle away from him and failing again, dropping back on him and feeling her breasts crushed once more against his chest. And somehow her wriggling had brought her in even more intimate contact over that stiff outcrop of flesh so that he was practically poking into her, making her hips squirm even more.&nbsp; "There's a hidden camera somewhere, isn't there? If so, I am not amused!&nbsp; I do not like being drugged, and...and... coerced&nbsp; into an ..."&nbsp; Coerced into an orgasm? No... that didn't sound quite right.&nbsp; She glared at the man's face so close below hers, feeling her neck cramp up from trying to hold her head up so that her face wouldn't fall down against his and their lips wouldn't touch... although a curiosity to know what it would feel like to kiss him startled her... <br>&nbsp;<br>Stifling that thought, she frowned down at him. "OK, Ash... if that <em>is</em> your name.&nbsp; Can you please tell me what this all about?"<br>&nbsp;<br>Rowan had been almost right... several WERE watching Ash and Rowan from behind the full-length, one-way mirror that covered one wall of the bedroom, but there was no camera. A porn movie wasn't their goal. Theirs was a much deeper purpose, one that intended to invade every dark corner of their captives' minds.<br>&nbsp;<br>One of the men in the group shook his head. Somewhere in his late twenties, he appeared to be a businessman like the many thousands in the city, in an exquisitely tailored dark blue Brioni suit, perfectly groomed, his blond hair slicked back from a large, intelligent forehead.&nbsp; Nothing remarkable about him... except maybe for an almost glowing paleness of skin in that darkened room, and an odd affectation of a monocle in his right eye.&nbsp; He removed that monocle now and fastidiously polished it with a clean handkerchief he always kept in his jacket pocket.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"Nothing."&nbsp; Just the slightest hint of regret in a voice that perfectly embodied the English upper-class, Eton and Oxford educated.&nbsp; Whatever they had been expecting Ash and Rowan to do once they woke, it obviously hadn't happened.&nbsp; He looked at his colleagues, the other occupants of the room behind the mirror... two of them Ash's kidnappers.&nbsp; "What say you? Are we ready for the next stage?"<br>&nbsp;<br>"I think we should give them more time, <em>cheri</em>." The woman who spoke was younger, in her early twenties, and appeared dressed for a night at the club--- supple young body in short, scanty, slinky black dress, long blond hair, and heart-shaped face heavily made-up to hide her own striking paleness. Her voice had the faintest of French accents, urban Parisienne. "A few minutes together is not enough.&nbsp; What do you think?"&nbsp; She asked the couple who had kidnapped Ash.&nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>25-11-2008, 01:48:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Those words rang through his skull with a continuing echo. Pervert? Me? Well, yes, ok kind of. And yet, “Hey, you know you keep squirming. I can’t help my… erm.. reaction. He was so tempted to change the first two letters of that word to try to add a bit of lightness to this moment but thought against it. And yet just acknowledging that fact seemed to give his body a new life as he knew that extra new throbbing between her thighs would be felt. “I promise I’m not doing that on purpose.” Unless you want, again he was tempted to add, but by that wild look in those.. wow, gorgeous eyes that were locked on his, safety was key. Plus, as unlikely as it was, this woman could be ‘in’ on whatever was going on here.<br><br>“Do you have any idea what this is all about?” But that was a foolish question after her ranting a moment earlier. No, she’s not in on this. His mind flashed back to the couple in his store that obviously abducted him. And what was with that strange music they played. It seemed to be the key to knocking him out.<br><br>Looking down for anything… something to make sense of this or some tool to help, then realizing his hands were firmly tied, Ash instead let his eyes travel along the side of this heavenly body atop his own. Oh yes, he thought, she is perfectly formed. He has always considered himself a connoisseur of the female body, ever since he could remember. And the shape of the thighs that rested against his own, plus the feel of them as they pressed then gave against his own, he was certain of one thing. As his mind began to wrap around this sudden thought, his eyes lifted up, slowly up the curve of the bottom. Covered in a skimpy pair of panties, his mind pulled them down. Down over the shapely yet strong legs, to then seeing a calve that is meant to be caressed and kissed lift up, dangling that small garment from a toe. Tossing it off with a sudden move, it then lands in his face. But this of course, was all in his imagination.<br><br>As much as I love being tied to you, he thought, I do wish my hands were free. His eyes continued to move up. Always a firm believer that there is no ‘perfect body’, he admiringly signed inside at what he saw unfold as his eyes continued their path upward. This body, this is perfect, he thought. Perfect for it’s shape, height, structure… and tone. As if a classic artist has spent a lifetime perfecting each stroke, every shade of color, and every fine detail.<br><br>But with every wonderful moment, comes a price. Realizing his cock was madly throbbing up against this lovely creature, Ash nearly apologized. But then, he throbbed it purposely. Yes… wow yes she is wet. Not simply a little damp but absolutely soaking. His next pulsation rubbed up against her moisture, a small wet sound escaping.<br><br>Realizing she may not be totally enjoying his little experiment, his eyes lifted to hers, apologetically. The eyes that stared back… apart from being intensely beautiful, were full of… either wild anger or passion. He couldn’t tell what. All he knew was, he could stare in those eyes for an eternity.”You’re a dancer, aren’t you?”, he asked. Yes, he knew the answer. He could tell by the beautiful structure of her limbs and torso, she could move with the grace of the most seductive feline. “Also… did you have a dream about… a castle… with two inside… “, he grinned… “really going at it?” That last question escaped his lips before he realized he was asking. Oh yes, the dream! And the body I was trapped inside. Looking again down at the lovely body that covered his… and kept his raging erection clamped up against with every smallest, wonderfully excruciating move… he suddenly knew it was this body which he was inside.<br><br>“You purr when you are happy, don’t you?”, another silly question, but he did feel deep inside her, a faint humming.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>26-11-2008, 06:02:30</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"I am NOT squirming."&nbsp; But at his reminder that she WAS squirming, Rowan stopped the movement of her hips... but then, her sudden stillness made her even more aware of that hard, throbbing mass between her thighs, so intimately pressed against her very damp sex... and after her very recent dream of near ecstasy... NO, no, no, that wasn't going to work either, so she gave up being still and squirmed even harder.&nbsp; But all it achieved was a flushed face, the heat of that undeniably sensual, exquisitely arousing friction between their bodies seeping insidiously into every inch of her body... most particularly the area rubbing over his rock-hard bulge, which seemed to be growing even more prominent, if that were possible...<br>&nbsp;<br>"Well, you could--- we could--- at least--- lie sideways..."&nbsp; she gasped. But no amount of squirming and pulling and pushing against their bonds could move him, since he was so much bigger and heavier than her.&nbsp; And her poor neck was already painfully strained from holding her head up... and the more she resisted, the worse it got, especially with her newest burst of activity.&nbsp; Panting with exhaustion, she finally gave up and dropped her head down next to his on the satin pillow, her face just an inch from his.&nbsp; If he turned his head just so, their lips would touch...<br>&nbsp;<br>Her eyes slowly traced the outline of his handsome face at such close quarters, and for a few insane moments she forgot they were bound together... and her eyelids drooped, a small, blissful smile stretching her full mouth as she let her body enjoy the pleasure building in her from their intimate rubbing.&nbsp; "If we're going to be tied to each other like this--"&nbsp; and since certain parts of us are already getting intimately acquainted ... "--I suppose you should know my name too.&nbsp; It's Rowan... Rowan Silliphant."&nbsp; She said her last name rather defiantly, daring him to make fun of it.&nbsp; Most people did! "Rhymes with 'elephant.'&nbsp; And you still didn't answer my question, Ash."<br><br><em>Looking down for anything… something to make sense of this or some tool to help, then realizing his hands were firmly tied, Ash instead let his eyes travel along the side of this heavenly body atop his own. Oh yes, he thought, she is perfectly formed. He has always considered himself a connoisseur of the female body, ever since he could remember. And the shape of the thighs that rested against his own, plus the feel of them as they pressed then gave against his own, he was certain of one thing. As his mind began to wrap around this sudden thought, his eyes lifted up, slowly up the curve of the bottom. Covered in a skimpy pair of panties, his mind pulled them down. Down over the shapely yet strong legs, to then seeing a calve that is meant to be caressed and kissed lift up, dangling that small garment from a toe. Tossing it off with a sudden move, it then lands in his face. But this of course, was all in his imagination.</em><br>&nbsp;<br>No wonder he wasn't answering her question! He was too busy checking her out, and from the look in his eyes Rowan suspected he liked very much what he saw.&nbsp; And was that a wicked little smile playing on his finely shaped lips?&nbsp; "You should be glad my hands are tied behind my back," she muttered.&nbsp; <br><br>Not that she wasn't checking him out either, her eyes having taken careful stock of his face and found she liked almost everything about it... then drifting down over the corded neck and what she could see of his chest and arms.&nbsp; She had called him a pervert... but who was perving now?&nbsp; Who was reluctantly enjoying their wetly intimate stroking?&nbsp; Who was wondering what it would feel like to have her breasts fully naked and crushed against his bare, muscled chest instead of through the skimpy bit of fabric she wore?&nbsp; Who was fantasizing what it would feel like to remove the barrier of clothing from his strong, gorgeous body and to confirm her suspicions that he was a big boy?&nbsp; Wanting to know what it would be like for him to fill her...?<br><br><em>As much as I love being tied to you, he thought, I do wish my hands were free. His eyes continued to move up. Always a firm believer that there is no ‘perfect body’, he admiringly signed inside at what he saw unfold as his eyes continued their path upward. This body, this is perfect, he thought. Perfect for it’s shape, height, structure… and tone. As if a classic artist has spent a lifetime perfecting each stroke, every shade of color, and every fine detail.</em><br><br><em>But with every wonderful moment, comes a price. Realizing his cock was madly throbbing up against this lovely creature, Ashe nearly apologized. But then, he throbbed it purposely. Yes… wow yes she is wet. Not simply a little damp but absolutely soaking. His next pulsation rubbed up against her moisture, a small wet sound escaping.</em><br>&nbsp;<br>She stifled a moan and bit her lower lip as she gazed at him accusingly, her violet eyes starting to unfocus.&nbsp; "Stop...oh god... you're doing that on purpose..."&nbsp; Her hips hadn't stopped squirming either, and with his own deliberate twitches of that powerful male weapon thrusting against her own wet, throbbing, aching womanhood, the ecstasy was rising irresistibly, inexorably... "No... stop..."&nbsp; But her words didn't at all match the movements of her hips, which writhed and rubbed over his hard flesh even more... How could this be happening? A second orgasm looming so forcefully over her she doubted she would be able to stop it now, even if she wanted to... <br><br><em>Realizing she may not be totally enjoying his little experiment, his eyes lifted to hers, apologetically. The eyes that stared back… apart from being intensely beautiful, were full of… either wild anger or passion. He couldn’t tell what. All he knew was, he could stare in those eyes for an eternity.”You’re a dancer, aren’t you?”, he asked. Yes, he knew the answer. He could tell by the beautiful structure of her limbs and torso, she could move with the grace of the most seductive feline. “Also… did you have a dream about… a castle… with two inside… “, he grinned… “really going at it?” That last question escaped his lips before he realized he was asking. Oh yes, the dream! And the body I was trapped inside. Looking again down at the lovely body that covered his… and kept his raging erection clamped up against with every smallest, wonderfully excruciating move… he suddenly knew it was this body which he was inside.</em><br><br><em>“You purr when you are happy, don’t you?”, another silly question, but he did feel deep inside her, a faint humming.</em><br>&nbsp;<br>"I don't purr."&nbsp; She tried to sound indignant, but... oh yes, that was definitely a purr coming from deep in her throat... a purr threatening to rise into a moan as delight continued to climb in her body despite her attempts to control it...&nbsp; Oh dear lord, he'd know I'm having an orgasm, she thought in panic... and this situation is already untenable as it is!&nbsp; No need to complicate it by having orgasm induced by a total stranger!&nbsp; So she valiantly concentrated on what he was asking her, her hips alternating between squirming madly and being still... although neither alternative seemed to work.&nbsp; She bit her lip again and frowned at him suspiciously.&nbsp; "How did you know I was a dancer?"&nbsp; Then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as he described her dream, each detail so perfectly matching her own.&nbsp; "You--how did you know about my dream??"&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Was it possible... that he was the one in her dream?&nbsp; The one in her mind who had been naughtily feeling her body up and stroking her?&nbsp; Maybe even the man on the bed...&nbsp; And at the remembrance of that interlude, the tide of hot pleasure could be held back no longer, and at his latest deliberate throbbing against her sex, already drenched with her juices and ripe to bursting, she convulsed and writhed as wave after wave swept over her, forcing her to bury her mouth against the curve where his neck met his shoulder to muffle the moan that burst from her throat.<br>&nbsp;<br>"Interesting," the tall, pale, English fellow behind the two-way mirror murmured.<br><br>"Interesting, <em>cheri</em>?"&nbsp; The Parisienne blonde's eyebrows rose, then she chuckled.&nbsp; "I find it amusing myself."<br><br><br><br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>01-12-2008, 21:30:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Malcolm had been considering the ‘sideways’ position, but only for the briefest of moments. No, this felt far too good to ruin it by letting this heavenly body off his own. Yet he did move and shift, in pretense of ‘trying’. Just after, he wondered about that spreading moisture down below. That, plus the movements, plus the scent he was starting to breathe in deeply was causing his own reaction. Yes, keep moving, he thought to her. God it felt so damn good! But he knew she felt it. What was going through that mind, he wondered as he watched her expressions shifting. He was always a good judge of what was lurking in the thoughts of others, simply by their actions and facial shifts. Yet with this lovely who seemed to so desperately want to be free of him, he was clueless. But I have been in your mind, he thought, knowing that odd dream was hers and he was just a ‘stow-away’, along for the trip. But why? And more, how? Something nagged at his farthest memories but each time his thoughts shifted to confront it, it faded into nothing.<br><br>When she smiled, he both felt himself melt into a pool under her, while feeling his heart pound inside and yes, that inevitable throbbing down below, as her thighs seemed to tighten around his, bringing them somehow closer.<br><br>Within moments yet somehow he was unable to sense ‘when’ that shift happened, this scene turned from two trying to get free to enjoying their predicament. Hearing her name, Rowan… he rolled it around all over in his mind, enjoying that combination of sounds. “Row… an”. Somehow that name soothed him. As if his own name fit somewhere inside those letters. Hearing her words about her hands being tied, he laughed out loud, completely spontaneously. “Sorry but if my hands were free, I think… umm, we’d be even closer than we are now.”<br><br>Each time, and now he was sure she was not doing it to free herself from him, judging by the seductive smile on those beautiful, full, very kissable lips… each time she moved… it was as if her thighs were really a hand which was stroking him, long tight strokes up his full length. In a moment of happy frustration, he turned his head to yell out, “Whoever is watching us… can’t you at least remove our clothing???”<br><br>“Sorry, kidding”, he grinned, knowing she knew he wasn’t kidding. “Ok, sorry for one more thing”, he then kissed her.<br><br>A kiss. Such a simple act. Two sets of lips touching. Yet in that small space of time where his reached to hers, it was as if a wonderfully pleasant jolt of electricity crackled in a snap. Their lips touched, and reality for a moment was turned over, kicked into the sky, and came hurtling down with a thump. His eyes watched hers… wondering if in that quick second of touching lips, she felt whatever that was… that he felt.<br><br>“Wow”, he thought. Widening eyes, he wondered if she’d let him kiss her again. Meanwhile… below… he knew beyond any doubt if someone didn’t get in here quick and help them out (or at least him), he’s explode.<br><br>In a daze and trying to get passed the ‘moment’, if she was suddenly pissed at him for kissing her so abruptly, “What question?”….&nbsp; Yes, how did you know about her dream? Fool, why did you have to let her know that, he questioned himself. “I don’t know… I just… was ‘there’, in your dream.”<br>&nbsp;<br>Straining, he tried to rip his arms free… simply to embrace, caress, wrap around this wonderful woman. She may be a bit fiery, he chuckled to himself, but ohhhh… he could tell she was full of wild passion. Just his kind of woman!<br><br>In the other room, the tall Englishman smiled. Yes, seems our little plan is starting to work in it's own way. I just hope, he thought, these two are understanding... once they realize. There was always that fear, that the wrath which follows will be inconsolable.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>02-12-2008, 17:16:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Rowan suspected that he hindered more than helped her efforts to lie sideways... but then, she wondered if the sideways position would have helped their situation any.&nbsp; They would still be bound to each other... and their bodies would still be touching and rubbing, perhaps in different ways, but still intimately, and the sensations varied but ultimately delightful and arousing... as it was now.&nbsp; Oh god, why did it feel as if their bodies fit and moved together so perfectly... as if they had done this before?<br><br>Her eyes watched her name form on his lips, and somehow hearing and seeing him say it sent shivers through her body, to piggyback on those already rippling so deliciously through her.&nbsp; It made her wonder at how skilled the person who had tied them together like this was, their bodies poised as if in the act of coitus, caught in time within the bounds of their fetters.&nbsp; Somehow, she felt little discomfort at the ropes digging gently into her, when by all rights the blood should have stopped circulating through her limbs.&nbsp; On the contrary, far too much hot, pulsing blood was coursing through her, making her normally pale skin rosy and warm.&nbsp; And when he laughed, the sound of it resonated inside her, and not just because her breasts were crushed against that deep chest and she could feel the breahttaking vibrations&nbsp; through his body and therefore hers... it was a sound that, like her dreams, was so maddeningly familiar and yet escaped her attempts to pin it down to the source of its familiarity.<br>&nbsp;<br>She believed him when he said they'd be even closer if his hands were free, and the rose color in her cheeks deepened.&nbsp; The vivid thought of his hands doing things to her... ripping off what little clothing remained on her body... gliding over her curves as their naked bodies grind against each other... well, on top of what his body was already doing to her, it made her fidget even more desperately.&nbsp; "Do you think they meant to torture us?" she mumbled.&nbsp; "If so, they are succeeding." <br>&nbsp;<br>"Oh please don't encourage them," she begged as he yelled out to have them remove their clothing.&nbsp; Although it did occur to her why they'd bother taking off her clothes but not her lingerie, and just leaving enough of him bare for stimulating contact between their skin.&nbsp; She supposed with a sigh that it went back to her theory of torture.<br><br>She did feel that kiss, very much so...from her scalp down to the tips of her toes, when those lips she had been spending far too much time looking at was suddenly on hers... and that all too brief contact left her shaken and even more aroused.&nbsp; Familiar, so very familiar... but then she would know.... oh god, she would definitely know... if she had kissed this man before! Wouldn't she??<br>&nbsp;<br>"What question?" she echoed his question about her question.&nbsp; She felt dazed, and wondered if the drug was still playing havoc with her mind.&nbsp; "Umm, I don't remember now..."&nbsp; Then his revelation... that he had been in her dream... was enough to send her aroused, straining body over the edge into ecstasy.<br>&nbsp;<br>Afterward, as she struggled to bring her body under control again, her breathing deep and uneven, her eyes dilated, she gazed deep into his eyes as her head rested very close to his on the pillow. She whispered,&nbsp; "Do you... do you get the feeling we know each other?" <br><br>The Frenchwoman nodded as she watched and listened, a small smile playing around her mouth.&nbsp; “Not quite what we wanted to see… but it is starting…” <br><br>They had hoped that this simple situation--- the two of them in bed, just as in the dreams she had been inducing into Rowan’s mind for weeks now--- would do the trick.&nbsp; &nbsp;But the curse was proving far too strong for such a simple tactic.&nbsp; <br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>03-12-2008, 19:43:48</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Her question brought him to seriously thinking. Yes, I’m very at ease with this lovely woman, Ash thought to himself. I’m tied to her, she’s nearly although also not nearly enough… naked. Surely there were people beyond that mirror. In fact he was shocked at how he could sense ‘something’. And somehow, with all that, he was so damn turned on it was driving him mad. Observers or not, he knew if possible, he’d be doing all sorts to this lovely body so perfectly tied above him.<br><br>Looking in those eyes so close to his own, which gave his entire body a wonderful wave of pleasure, he slightly shook his head, “I don’t know. Want to hear something strange? When I look in your eyes, I hear music. I almost think ‘they’ drugged us… and yet I feel amazingly clear headed.” He grinned, “I should be home right now with a glass of the darkest cab-sav near my hand. Actually, one near yours also for in this little wish of mine, you’d still be above me… tied. While my hands would be free…” Leaning close to hear ear, “And I would be inside you… deeply, perfectly, with what I know would be a perfect fit… far inside you”, he whispered.<br><br>Listening, he did hear that music again in his mind. He also wondered at a different sensation that was filling him. A feeling of power. It’s somehow related to being close to this gorgeous, sexy woman, he thought.<br><br>“I have this feeling”, god those eyes did something to him, “if we tried, somehow we could get out of this. Not that I want to be free of you… no, not just yet” Maybe not ever. Somehow he knew it would feel awful to be away from this exquisite creature for any length of time. “But we… you and I.. and not ‘them’, Borish and Natasha or whoever is behind that mirror… WE need to figure out what is going on.”<br><br>Straining suddenly, he tried with all his might to pull his hands free. Face purpling, Ash pushed&nbsp; all thoughts towards breaking free. Just as he started to feel… something different, the mirror began making cracking sounds. He stopped. Panting, “What the hell was that? Did you do that?”<br><br>Behind the glass, the two were deep in panic mode. “What if they get free? Do we really want these two angry, as they start realizing things?”, the French woman asked lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.<br><br>“Don’t be silly!”, her English counterpart scowled. “Those ropes have special… properties. Plus, I tied them. So what if they burst this window into dust? So what if they see us? They have no idea who we are. Hell, they don’t even truly know who they are!”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>04-12-2008, 04:34:10</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				“Oh god,” she whispered back, almost whimpering.&nbsp; His seductive words describing what he would do to her, his hot breath fanning her cheek so intimately, then tickling her ear as he spoke things she had just been shamelessly thinking of only seconds ago, had the effect of sending the heat of arousal through her body again.&nbsp; For god’s sake,&nbsp; how much wetter could she get? What in the world was it about this man that pushed all the right buttons inside her?&nbsp; Her own hands were tugging fruitlessly at the ropes behind her, desperate to touch him. Torture, this was sheer torture.&nbsp; <br><br>“You’re making this worse for me, you know.” She breathed in shakily and smiled at him, her gaze caressing his face so close to hers, and said softly, “You like red wine too?&nbsp; How odd…”&nbsp; Her mind flashed back to her dream, and now she remembered that there had been a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the nightstand next to the bed… “And what sort of music do you hear?”&nbsp; <br><br>It had happened so gradually over the course of their ‘acquaintance’ that she didn’t realize she had stopped resisting his powerful attraction, until she asked a question that had been burning in her mind since he mentioned his hands being free and that they’d be much closer than they were.&nbsp; She whispered, ”Your hands… what will your hands do to me if they were free?”&nbsp; Once again her mind swung back to her dream, disorienting her… of her staring through that window and watching the man do delightful, impossibly erotic things to the woman on the bed with his hands, and answering her question so spectacularly…<br><br><br>Windows… Eyes… Rowan’s own eyes dilated as she stared into his, and was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was staring into deep pools of memory. And in the windows of his eyes she thought she saw flashes of events… at first, the utterly beguiling image he had just conjured for them, of their flesh without the flimsy barrier of clothing, of him deep inside her as their bodies tugged and heaved in fluid motion, their hips rising and falling and grinding, tongues dipping and tasting the heady flavor of each other and wine in each other’s mouths… then the scene that mirrored in his eyes and projected into her mind changed…<br><br>They were in a chamber, one entire wall consisting of large windows open to the night air, and everything about their surroundings spoke of luxury and indulgence… from the enormous high bed to the silk curtains that fluttered in the breeze that blew in through the windows.&nbsp; And her naked body was tied to the bed with silk rope while his powerful, muscled form knelt between her thighs and he was doing things to her with those hands…<br><br>“I--- you know, it does sound crazy, but I do think you’re right,” she whispered as she continued searching his eyes, her appetite whetted as the reflected vision danced in and out of his eyes tantalizingly.&nbsp; “What would we try?&nbsp; Borish and Natasha… who are they?”&nbsp; Confused for a few moments, until she realized he was talking about the large mirror along the wall… his suspicions about what lay behind it agreeing with hers.<br><br>“Music...” she whispered.&nbsp; Yes, she heard the music now too, as she…the woman in her vision reflected in his eyes… moaned to the music that floated in through the open windows… “Oh yes, I know what sort of music…” and the music seemed to crash in crescendo as the woman’s… her… moans rose… and Rowan felt those moans build up inside her like a palpable energy that was somehow linked to the man’s own rising crest of power… And as he struggled to free himself, she added her own movements, her will inexplicably entwined with his as they strained together against their bonds… and when the mirror cracked and he stopped, she stopped too, sagging and melting in exhaustion over him, her hair brushing his face.<br><br>“No… I--I think we did it together,” she breathed in answer to his question if she had done that.&nbsp; She had felt it too… a powerful combined fluctuation of power as the moans of the woman in his eyes’ vision rose to a scream of climax along with the man’s… Ash’s… cries of orgasm...<br><br>“Special ropes or not, I felt it, you know.”&nbsp; The Frenchwoman answered the Englishman, glancing with deep nervousness through the now-cracked one-way mirror at those two on the bed.&nbsp; “There was a very strong surge in the air in that room… as if they had momentarily sucked out the very elemental forces that hold every object in that room together… “&nbsp; She turned her eyes to the other, her eyes apprehensive, full of dread.&nbsp; “Do we know what we are doing?&nbsp; When they realize who they are, WHAT THEN?”&nbsp; <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Silly Captives (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>16-01-2009, 21:15:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>“Do we know what we are doing?&nbsp; When they realize who they are, WHAT THEN?”</em><br><br>At that question, the Englishman froze, a look of horror on his face as the chirping sounds of a cell phone filled the air. Reaching inside his jacket, eyes staring at his French cohort, he turned, mumbling in a quiet voice. The color in his face seemed to drain, starting from the receding hairline to his neck, as if a valve were opened, letting all the life out, below.<br><br>“Yes, sir”<br><br>”No, everything is fine”<br><br>”What? Are you…”<br><br>“No, of course”<br><br>Hearing the strain in his rising voice, the French woman watched him intently, wondering what was being said. She feared the person on that phone. Yet she would also give her life for him. If it were asked, living would be meaningless. The fear of not doing anything the caller asked was far too great to live with.<br><br>Snapping the cell phone shut, the Englishman she knew as Nigel glared at her, shaking his head. Sinking into a small metal chair near a small round table in the back of the room, he pulled out a small flask. Shaking hands unscrewed the lid, followed by a long drink as he drained the entire contents. He stared towards the window where the two captives were held.<br><br>Shrugging, the French woman asked, “Well? Are you going to tell me? What did he say? What is our next move? Did he… was he…” As Nigel’s eyes raised to look into hers, she asked in a raspy whisper, “Did he feel that?”<br><br>Nigel closed his eyes and sighed. After many deep breaths, his gaze returned to hers. “Gabrielle, you and I have worked together for what… nearly three years now? We have a boss who strikes great fear into those that stand in his way. The mere mentioning of his name is our most powerful weapon.”<br><br>“I have never heard fear in his voice. Until just now. He tried to hold it back, but no.” Gesturing towards the window, “Whatever those two just did, it scared the shit out of him. It was faint, the difference in his voice, but it was there.”<br><br>Gabrielle waited. Nigel always liked to drag out a story. And this, as she felt her own blood grow rapidly cold, this was a string of words she would never forget. Nor the look in his eyes.<br><br>“Anyway”, trying to calm himself, Nigel stood and smiled. “He wants us to accelerate the plans. He wants us to implement Phase Two.” This was not suppose happen for at least a week. Yet neither were the two captives expected to start showing any signs of whatever it was they would… show. This was uncharted territory, nobody, not even their boss, having a clue what would unfold.<br><br>Without speaking, they both slipped into professional mode. Nigel moved throughout the room, pulling levers and flipping switches, as Gabrielle typed furiously on a keyboard. The window through which they observed Rowan and Ash was instantly covered as a thick metal wall slammed down.<br><br>A few minutes later, they stood near a door. Nigel flipped a light switch, bathing the room in absolute darkness. “God help us if this doesn’t go as planned.”<br><br>Gabrielle stroked her co-workers face, smiling, “God has nothing to do with what we are doing here. I just pray those two see us as being on their side when they truly awaken.” Licking her lips, she stared at him, pulling him close as she grabbed his tie. Wither her other hand, she grabbed at his crotch. “I’m hungry… let’s get out of here.”<br><br>~~~<br><br><em>“No… I--I think we did it together,” she breathed in answer to his question if she had done that.&nbsp; She had felt it too… a powerful combined fluctuation of power as the moans of the woman in his eyes’ vision rose to a scream of climax along with the man’s… Ash’s… cries of orgasm...</em><br><br>Ash lifted his face to Rowan’s, feeling more and more as if something physical, chemical, mental was happening. Hmm, I hope this isn’t a flashback, he thought. Years earlier, he had dabbled with various narcotics. Occasionally, what he could only attribute to the after-effects, strange visions and sensations would wash over his mind. This felt similar but far stronger.<br><br>Starting to describe what he would do with his hands, as if the powers of the universe kicked in, everything changed. What appeared to be a steel wall clanked down over the mirror at the same moment the metal clasps holding them down released.<br><br>Without thinking, instinct taking over, Ash was not thinking about being free to escape. His mind was solely on this beautiful woman laying over him. Hands sliding up her sides, he reached around in an embrace and in one fluid movement spun over her, looking down.<br><br>“Why, lovely woman, should I tell you when I can instead show you?”<br><br>As those words escaped his lips, the lights dimmed as a wall near the bed lowered, revealing… if he didn’t know any better, what looked like a luxury suite in a four-star hotel. Looking back down at Rowan, “Hmm, seems our captors have given us a honeymoon of sorts. I wonder what the occasion is.” Lifting his hands, “I see no wedding rings. They haven’t hitched us without our knowing.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 10:17:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				When Ash suddenly flipped her over, pinning her down on the bed, all breath and thought escaped Rowan in a whoosh… until she was aware only of his hot breath on her lips and cheek, of his big body weighing her much softer, smaller one down… <br><br>WHAT was it about him?&nbsp; He had managed to bring her to orgasm without even touching her with his hands just a few minutes ago… and now, with his hands free, he sent uncontrollable shivers through her body with the promise in his words and in his eyes ...<br><br>“Don’t you… don’t you think we’re playing into their hands if we…&nbsp; perform for them?” she said breathlessly.&nbsp; Did she really care?&nbsp; She wasn’t even sure any more about her original suspicion that they’d been kidnapped by pornographers for some sort of film… now that the large mirror was barred off by steel.&nbsp; And if Ash’s promise to show her instead of telling her what he would do with his hands was to be believed… and if her traitorous body--- clad now only in her flimsy bra and thong, hips squirming without conscious thought under his--- was any indication…&nbsp; then this might have been a good time to leave the mirror-window open and keep the film rolling…<br><br>When he raised his hands to show their ringless state, she couldn’t help noticing the length of strong, masculine fingers… and combined with his recent promise of showing her what he would do with them, it filled her body with a flood of heat that melted her limbs… and apparently her mind as well, for her own hands were lifting to frame his face for a moment before sliding into that long dark hair her fingers had been itching to grasp.&nbsp; Her fingers twining around silken locks to pull his face even closer to hers until her lips brushed softly and teasingly over his, she whispered, “I think … that they have done something to us without us knowing… for I want to do <em>this</em> to you…”<br><br>Whatever powerful aphrodisiac they had pumped them full of, it was overwhelmingly effective, Rowan thought a moment before her eyes closed and her lips parted to close over his lower lip, letting the satiny texture of hers slide tentatively over that sensitive surface, sucking delicately and stroking with the moist tip of her tongue until she had covered every millimeter of delicious maleness that she tasted on his lips, and she was shuddering as her own lips awakened to the texture of male, beard-roughened skin around his mouth… then she repeated the process with his upper lip, a slow, tantalizing exploration during which she started making forays with her tongue behind those lips and into the intoxicating moisture inside, stroking lightly along the roof of his mouth before seeking its playmate…<br><br>As she kissed him, something strange happened… something totally apart from what it was doing to her body.&nbsp; Suddenly, images flowed behind her closed eyelids, images so vivid and beautiful that she was now convinced that drugs were still swirling in her system and that the kiss was somehow stimulating this new, nirvana experience.&nbsp; Moaning, not daring to open her eyes for fear of chasing away the images and this suddenly euphoric high induced by the kiss, her fingers tightened in his hair and she deepened her kiss, pressing her lips longingly and pleadingly against his.&nbsp; <br><br>In that lovely dream, she was kissing him too… and they were lying as they were now beside some small, quiet pool with waters so clear one could see the myriad-colored gemstones embedded in the bottom of it glittering, their light refracting through the water and causing tiny luminous ripples across the surface as the air stirred it.&nbsp; <br><br>Around them was a grove of verdant tropical trees and plants that formed a cool, very private cloister that shielded them from what she knew was a hot sun above them, and perhaps prying eyes from beyond.&nbsp; From that pool, the scent of something ancient… of watery memories of long ago… stirred in Rowan. Under her back was some sort of soft, thick fabric, a sumptuous blanket into which their bodies sunk and nestled.&nbsp; In this dream, she was half naked, and so was he, their bodies partially clad with flowing silk that she instinctively knew their feverish hands had already started removing from each other, and only the sound of their kisses, of small moans muffled against skin, echoed in that lovers’ haven.<br><br>Somehow they were both swept back to the edge of that pool, bodies that had been entwined on the bed now tangled in that poolside tryst, hungry lips now melted together in a passionate kiss… and their minds and bodies pulsating with more vibrant life than she had ever thought possible.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>20-02-2009, 22:01:38</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				As she touched his lips with hers, Ash was about to make a silly joke about whatever drug they had been pumped full of. Before the words could come, the lights stretched and morphed, pulling him far away. Voices spilled in his head. Actually, one voice, but saying many different things. They swirled and blended chaotically in his head. None of the words made sense, yet they were all so damn familiar. But before he could try to focus, he realized he was falling.<br><br>Falling fast, as if just pushed from an airplane, clothes rippling, wind howling, and the world below frightfully gaining size. “Holllllyyyyyyy Sheeeeeeeeeeet!!!!!” He tried to scream but the wind laughed at him, taunted him, and the muffled sounds that escaped were a pathetic little plea. Looking over, he saw his hand was in another. “You!” It was Rowan, the mysterious woman, his joint captive. Somehow, she was different as a serene, knowing smile filled her lips. Gesturing downward as her eyebrows raised, he slowly glanced to see the ground horribly close. Time to die, he thought, looking back towards her but she was gone. Just before impact, Ash realized the song ‘Free Falling’ by Tom Petty was faintly playing in his head.<br><br>Splat! That word bellowed inside as Ash was certain his ending had come. Great, he thought, I die and instead of making peace with a God I don’t believe in, I simply utter ‘Splat’. What am I, a freaking cartoon? Yet, there was no pain. Eyes squeezed shut, he tried to will them open yet they wouldn’t. Until that voice again returned. This time, only one string of foreign words.<br><br>A hand lightly slapped his face. Blinking eyes open, Rowan stood before him, half covered in beautiful silk. Looking down, he was also. She smiled, speaking to him again in that exotic tongue. Shaking head, “Why are you speaking gibberish? What is this place?”, yet as the words left him, Ash realized he also spoke that odd way. He spoke, not understanding his sounds. She smiled as her hands patted his face, the look in her eyes knocking him back. This woman loves me, he knew. Also, somehow he knew it wasn’t the same Rowan he met hours earlier. No, this was a different version, one that knew him… or knew a different version of him.<br><br>As he continued, she placed a finger on his lips, “Shh”, as her lips touched his. He smiled, bathed in a sudden calm feeling. Eyes moving down, he realized again what an exquisitely perfect creature she was. Wherever she is, whatever she speaks, she is utterly perfect, he thought smiling against the kiss. Hearing the waters of a pool nearby, he wanted to pick her up, take her into the water, and explore every wonderful possibility with this lovely woman. Hands sliding up her bare sides, under the priceless silk, they formed around two soft, full breasts.<br><br>“You are perfect”, he whispered in their kiss. She pulled away, a sad look in those beautiful violet eyes. Starting to ask what was wrong, everything faded from his vision. “Nooooooo!” My god, he screamed inside, this is not fair! What’s going on? Reaching out, in blackness, Ash somehow dug his fingers into the air and pulled… Yelling out with a painful, manic, beastly sound, he pulled until the vision returned. The woman who was Rowan’s double turned, startled… but then smiled, as if his actions were unexpected but not entirely unusual. Arms stretched back, painfully, veins forming as he strained, red-faced, instantly covered in sweat, Ash forced his words out, this time speaking in English, “I refuse to leave… arrggghh… like that. Come here… and… kiss… me!”<br><br>The woman smiled as he felt the invisible ropes slide painfully through his grasps. “Nooooo!”, he bellowed, yet she smiled as if everything were fine. Faintly he was sure he heard the word&nbsp; “Soon” from her lips. And then, everything faded to black.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening (Cynical and Chatoyant Silk)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Solaine</strong> on <strong>15-05-2009, 08:47:57</strong>
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				Phaedra gazed down at her adored lover as he lay on their cushion of silks, perfect white teeth biting a soft bottom lip still swollen from kisses... watched him fall asleep as she struggled to keep her smile calm and loving as usual.&nbsp; The glow of love in her eyes came easily and naturally... but as for the serenity in the gentle curl of her lips, she was merely feigning, not wishing to worry him in the least.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>For the first time since she and Adonis had become lovers, she was hearing the whispers... the ripples of reaction... saw the accusatory suspicion in the sharp eyes of those in the Pantheon.&nbsp; That morning, just before she hurried to meet with her lover for their daily tryst, the whispers had become stronger.&nbsp; Jealous murmurs had turned to strident questions which she had managed to escape with a light laugh--- for the time being.&nbsp; Let them prove it... she was confident the accusers would not catch them in the act of love, since she and Adonis, with their combined power, had created the most foolproof shield around their secret bower wherein they had spent hours of glorious ecstasy without discovery.<br>&nbsp;<br>But she knew she and Adonis could not escape the questions for long.&nbsp; They each had enough rivals to make it difficult for both of them.&nbsp; She knew well enough that very soon she and Adonis would be confronted with the hallowed rules that kept the Pantheon together.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>Let the accusations come. She had her answer to all their denouncements if they ever dared to make her and Adonis account for their liason, rules or not.&nbsp; Rules were necessary, yes... but how could love be staunched by rules?&nbsp; Love... so rare among the backstabbing gods, and if love was claimed, it was quite contrived and a weapon of manipulation.&nbsp; Love... this love she had found with Adonis... so pure, so perfect, so deep... now that she had found it with him after thousands of years of pretending she knew what real love was as the Goddess of Love... how could she possibly let it go for the sake of rules?&nbsp; She was Love... and she now had love.&nbsp; She and love could no more be separated than Adonis, the Sun God, could be wrenched from the radiant orb that received its life from him.<br>&nbsp;<br>She watched tenderly as Adonis drifted off into sleep, letting her powers of soothing dreams lull him to rest.&nbsp; She would not worry him about it yet.&nbsp; For now, they had this time together, and when he awoke again they would make love... passionately, wildly, rapturously, as they had for thousands of days and nights.&nbsp; She would guard fiercely over these moments, hoard them like treasure as humans hoarded gold.&nbsp; She would not worry about tomorrow either. Not yet.<br>&nbsp;<br>That was what she tried to tell herself.&nbsp; Her fingers traced adoringly and softly over his face as he slept, her lips stealing feather-light kisses from his as he lay in repose.&nbsp; She guarded his rest as she always did, although she knew full well that he had been starting to sense that something was wrong, if the demanding look in his eyes and the tone of his voice before he slept were any indication.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"You are so beautiful, my love," she sighed.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>She kissed his closed eyes, then rose fluidly to her feet, the nearly unsubstantial silk clinging to her form undulating like delicate, smoky air currents over the ripe, perfectly shaped curves of her body, an ethereal covering that caressed skin as creamy and smooth as pale rose.&nbsp; Long dark hair flowed down her back, thick liquid velvet rippling with every graceful movement as she glided to the entrance of their verdant sanctuary.&nbsp; There was one Goddess that she could ask for advice, perhaps the only deity that she dared to trust in the Pantheon... and perhaps the only ally she could rely on if the others decided to turn on them...<br>&nbsp;<br>She walked through the shield, crossing the invisible threshold that separated the delightful oasis she and Adonis had created and into the dark, misty depths of a nearly impenetrable wood.&nbsp; This ominous, daunting jungle... filled with dangerously tangled vines and roots that crawled to life like hungry snakes when unwary humans dared to venture in... was the formidable wall that guarded Paradise from humanity, and Phaedra navigated it with ease and confidence, quelling the squirming, woody tentacles that reached out for her with a laughing glance.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>She had not gone far when the wood came suddenly, startlingly awake with a different sort of menace--- a high, keening wind that whipped through the leaves and branches of the trees around her and nearly tore the silk from her form, and her path ahead was swallowed in a black, roiling fog that transformed before her eyes into the shape of the God of Death and the Underworld.<br>&nbsp;<br>"You have never looked better, my dear," Alluvion drawled, sauntering slowly towards her in utter calm, the eye of the storm that raged around her.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"Thank you."&nbsp; Phaedra remained perfectly motionless, head held high, refusing to back away as she knew he wanted her to and succeeding in matching his unruffled exterior... even when he came too close for comfort, and she felt his dank breath that reeked of death on her cheek.&nbsp; She knew that the bower behind her was invisible to him, its entrance to another dimension securely closed. Viiolet eyes regarded him with delicate scorn and distaste. "And why, may I ask, are you not guarding your domain as you should?"<br>&nbsp;<br>"I could ask you the same, my sweet," he said, smiling--- or what passed for a smile warping his features.&nbsp; He circled her slowly, and she followed his progress by turning, certainly not about to let him get behind her.&nbsp; "I doubt the Goddess of Love is out for a stroll in this eyesore of a garden."&nbsp; Colorless eyes that sucked in every ray of light in their vicinity actually glittered with taunting amusement.&nbsp; "He must be that good, eh?"<br>&nbsp;<br>"I do not know what you are talking about," she said lightly, managing to maintain her unperturbed facade.&nbsp; Not even a flicker of the fear she felt touched the surface of her eyes.&nbsp; She would not let her guard down... no, not for a moment, NOT around this God.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"Why, I speak of Adonis... my sublimely flawless cousin."&nbsp; The mockery was tinged now with hate. "You have been fucking him for a good while now... and no, do not bother to deny it, for I have seen him enter this part of the wood.&nbsp; Or at least, my servants have."&nbsp; He reached out his hand and patted the bark of a viciously gnarled tree, and Phaedra could swear the tree purred.&nbsp; "If you remember, the Pantheon tasked me with equipping this wood for its protection.&nbsp; Ah, how many thousands of humans have my children sent to keep me company in my domain?"&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br>"You are mad," Phaedra said flatly.&nbsp; Her powers of dissimulation were being strained today, but she did not let a quiver of uncertainty or a twitch of panic mar her outer tranquility.&nbsp; "You always have been.&nbsp; Seeing both of us here does not prove a thing."<br>&nbsp;<br>"Perhaps not... but how many in the Pantheon would leap to believe me, and make their own conclusion?" he mused.&nbsp; "This is my wood, after all.&nbsp; It was brilliant of you and Adonis to hide here.&nbsp; Brilliant, but ultimately foolish."<br>&nbsp;<br>"I am not afraid of you." Phaedra carelessly flicked a silky wave of her hair back over her bare shoulder with a slender finger. But the finger betrayed her.&nbsp; It was trembling slightly. "What do you want, Alluvion?&nbsp; Speak it plainly now or else let me pass.&nbsp; I do not have time for your games."<br>&nbsp;<br>That trembling finger was all Alluvion needed. "What do I want?"&nbsp; Suddenly, the wind that had died down a little as they talked roared back to hurricane strength, and he stepped quickly and unexpectedly towards her.&nbsp; "I want you, of course.&nbsp; I want the Goddess of Love to keep Death company."&nbsp; Arms were suddenly around her from everywhere... and she realized with a scream that the ground had opened up under her feet and thick serpentine roots from the ground had twisted around her body, pulling and tugging her roughly down into the earth to a blackness that drowned her.<br>&nbsp;<br>
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