"Faerie Tale"    (Yakkul and Puppet D)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Yakkul on 24-02-2010, 07:18:27</h2>
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				Title: <strong>"Faerie Tale"    (Yakkul and Puppet D)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Yakkul</strong> on <strong>24-02-2010, 07:18:27</strong>
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				<br>James pounded along the lonely path through the middle of the public park.&nbsp; It was late at night, actually one of his preferred times for jogging.&nbsp; Few people were out at this time, and so he could do his miles without interruption.<br><br>He was tall, well over six foot, with reddish-brown hair, and amber gold eyes.&nbsp; His body was athletic but muscular, built more for strength than speed, with broad shoulders and powerful arms.&nbsp; He was clad in his usual running gear, a set of black trackpants, gym shoes and an old army tshirt, with a faded, barely readable logo upon it.<br><br>When he reached the fork in the path by the old oak, he felt himself inclined to go left, rather than his usual right.&nbsp; &nbsp;The feeling wasn't one he could explain, just a strong notion that it would be better to go that way this night, rather than the usual path.&nbsp; His gut was something he trusted, and so he ran on, taking the left hand fork.<br><br>Soon though he found himself slowing, for there was some sort of odd noise up ahead.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was like a small group of chanting people, but the voices were oddly high pitched and reedy.&nbsp; Curious but wary he ducked off the path into the bushes and advanced carefully.<br><br>He was shocked by what he found.&nbsp; A large metallic structure, apparently some sort of altar, stood in the middle of a clearing.&nbsp; Tied down on her back upon it was a girl, somewhat younger looking than he, with long dark hair, and pale skin.&nbsp; She work a green tunic and brown leggings.&nbsp; More shocking though than the tied-down girl, was those clustered around the altar-object, for though they had arms and legs, and carried themselves as men, they were clearly not human.<br><br>The only thing his brain could classify them as, was goblins.&nbsp; Like those of classical literature, the chanters had green skin, with pointed ears, spindly limbs and bald heads.&nbsp; They seemed somewhat taller than those of classical fame, and they were mostly clad in white breechcloths, though one was clad in robes of a deep crimson.&nbsp; <br><br>Despite his shock at the sight of these unnatural beings, James found his gaze drawn toward the knife, held by the crimson clad figure.&nbsp; It was descending toward the restrained girl, clearly with no good intent in mind.&nbsp; Forgetting himself for the moment, James pushed out of his hiding place.<br><br>"No!" he shouted, "leave her alone!"<br><br><em>Bad idea.<br></em><br>The goblins turned as one toward him and hissed in unison, then launched themselves at him.<br><br>"Oh <strong><em>crap</em></strong>," James muttered, realising his mistake too late.&nbsp; The nearest goblin approached him, and James parried a clawing hand with a hasty block to the other's wrist, following up with a punch at his ugly opponent's throat.<br><br>The blow was intended disable or kill.&nbsp; Though surprised and shaken, James wasn't about to take chances and his training kicked in.&nbsp; &nbsp;The first assailant dropped with a croak, clutching at a broken windpipe and gasping for a breath that would never come again.&nbsp; James ignored the fallen foe though, pushing past the next one with contempt, smashing the nose of a third opponent with an elbow, before lashing out at the second with his foot.<br><br>He was soon convinced that while these little guys may look creepy, they certainly couldn't fight worth a damn.&nbsp; Soon it was just James and the crimson-clad figure, who shrieked at him in a shrill tone.<br><br>"My Master will kill you for this," he cried, before vanishing in a puff of smoke, in a manner more comical than ominous.<br><br>James shook his head in disbelief and looked around at the fallen.&nbsp; None of his attackers seemed in a position to threaten him now, and only one was actually moving... well, twitching.&nbsp; Feeling somewhat lightheaded with disbelief, James moved over to the altar, and examined the girl upon it.&nbsp; He began to undo her bonds, which appeared to have some sort of wire threaded through the rope.<br><br>As he worked, he noticed her shoulder was cut, a neat, diagonal mark upon her snow-white skin.&nbsp; He reached over to examine it.&nbsp; It didn't look life-threatening, but it was certainly going to need a stitch or two.&nbsp; &nbsp;At the last moment, just before his finger touched her there, he realised the digit had been nicked by one of those grasping nails.&nbsp; Before he could stop though, the two bleeding wounds made contact.<br><br><em>*Brightness*</em><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Faerie Tale"    (Yakkul and Puppet D)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Puppet D</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 09:09:27</strong>
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				((Sorry that took so long. Hope you like. By the way, my posts wont always be this long. Just had a lot of stuff to explain. &lt;3 ))<br><br>Roxanne wasn't quite sure what she had done to deserve what was happening to her. As a faerie she was a great believer in karma, so she had to have done something extremely horrible to deserve this. Maybe it was mother earth's way of telling her she wasn't going to be a pure fairy nor a faerie, that she didn't deserve to be part of nature as a mature fairy nor did she deserve to have a master and lover. No. She was going to be dead.<br><br>Her day had started okay, just like every other day started. She had woken in her human form in the small cottage she had had built for her a couple of years ago to this bright and shining day, just like the back few months of the spring season. The only thing that had been different about today is that she was too aware of how close it was to her 21st birthday. <br><br>Roxanne had yet to find her master and if that didn't happen before the midnight hour on her 21st birthday... she would become a fairy. She would forever be in her six inch tall form, forced to take care of nature for the rest of her life. Stuck to some tree or flower for the rest of her life. She didn't want that at all. She wanted a master. She wanted to have a lover. She had heard of all the good things about having a master. She had a friend named Clarisse, who had a master and the few times she'd seen her friend, she had been so happy. Clarisse had told her of all the things she did with her master. At first, the things she told her were crazy, being tied up, whipped... But as Clarisse had continued to speak about her experiences, Roxanne had to admit to herself she had gotten completely wet thinking about it.<br><br>So Roxanne had gone about her day, she had gone to the general store on the edge of town to get a few supplies, and a few indulgences. Although eating anything that wasn't completely organic was bad for her faerie body, she just loved oreo cookies. She just payed for it with excruciating stomach aches. She'd gone home, tidied up, then headed back out for a stroll. It was Sunday, so she didn't have to be at the floral shop she worked at for her job. It had just been getting dark when she'd sensed a dark presence. She remembered a knife coming from behind and pressing against her neck. It had burned her skin so it had obviously been iron. But a hand came around with a cloth and had covered her mouth, and that was the last thing she remembered.<br><br>Roxanne had woken on a cold metal slab, spread eagle. Her wrists and ankles were tied down with what felt like rope, but her skin was burning. There must have been an iron thread entwined in the rope. Specially made rope to hold a faerie. All fae had a sort of allergy to iron. Some, such as the elves, it was just being uncomfortable around iron, made it a little hard to breath; some... just a little burn but nothing more. But faeries not only burned at the touch of iron, if the iron got into the blood stream, they could die from it. It was worse with a pure fairy, taking only hours to get through the blood stream to the heart, depending on where the cut was. A stab straight to the heart would kill a pure fariy in a matter of minutes. For a faerie like her, it would take a couple of days to run through her blood stream. If the cut was close to her heart, it would take about a day to kill her. Slowly... painfully. And after close to 20 hours or so... it would be too late to help her.<br><br>Roxanne had begun to drift into a light sleep, although she was still paying attention to what was going on around her. The goblins were working for a dark elf who wanted more powers. To sacrifice a pure faerie on the eve of her 21st birthday with the right spell... was supposed to bring you great powers. As far as she knew, no one had ever attempted it because the council found out about these things before they happened. The council had spys and people working for them everywhere. When she opened her eyes next it was silent so she turned to look to her right. No one. She looked to her left slowly.<br><br>Shit... There was a goblin standing over her. She tried to scream, but she couldn't find her voice as the goblin lifted his iron dagger and sliced through her skin, right above her left collar bone. Her breath caught in her throat in pain. Not only the basic pain of being sliced, but the burning pain and the iron sunk into her blood. Bad. Very bad. This was way too close to her heart. That gave her 20-24 hours tops, if they didn't make any more cuts. If she got out of her before they sacrificed her completely. She almost passed out from the pain, but kept herself from falling into the dark abyss that was loosing her consciousness. She took a shaky breath and the goblin laughed, then stepped away. She'd never really cared about the sort of things that concerned rituals. Now she kind of wished she had.<br><br>She lay on the slab for what seemed like an hour, feeling like crap. She could almost feel the iron shifting through her blood, moving slowly through her veins. She heard something. Her eyes had closed, but she was still conscious. She had drowned out the sound of the goblins after a while but now she heard something more. A man shouted, "No! Leave her alone!" She groaned softly and turned her head towards she sound. Her eyes came open just enough to see a goblin standing over her with the knife once again, though he was turned away from her. She glanced over towards the commotion and saw a man. He shouldn't be there. Her eyes closed and she listened to the fight. It was quiet soon, and she tried to open her eyes, but they didn't budge. She groaned softly.<br><br>Roxanne flinched a little at his touch on her ankles and wrists as he untied the ropes around them. The burns wouldn't be too bad, but still strange to see a thin burn on the otherwise unmarked skin. She felt a strange tingle through her body at his touch, like... it belonged. She knew what this feeling meant, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up. It was too late for her to find a master. But... Her breath caught in he throat and her stomach lurched as he touched her open wound. A bright light flashed before her eyes and she snapped them open.<br><br>Roxanne laid still on the metal slab, staring up at a man. Reddish-Brown short hair, styled like he'd just woken up but looked amazing when he did, made his amber gold eyes stand out beautifully. It took her at least half a minute to stop staring at his eyes. She lowered her eyes, looking over his broad shoulders and large powerful arms. Arms made for not just strength, but to surround a women with comfort and support. They were clad in a t-shirt. An army t-shirt she noted. But... there was something more. His touch, her eyes shifted to where his hand was still applying pressure to her lightly bleeding shoulder. Blood against Blood. His finger was bleeding.<br><br>"Master." Roxanne whispered. A shiver ran over her body and she moaned softly. She'd heard about the blood exchange from Clarisse but... she didn't think it would be like this. Of course, the master/slave relationship usually took at least a month to develop completely before the blood exchange. And usually it was in a more... sexual manner. A deep shudder of electricity raced through her body as it had to be going through the man's body as well.<br><br>Roxanne didn't really know how to react but before she could do much, she tried to sit and a sharp pain radiated from her shoulder. She groaned and closed her eyes, tying to rid herself of the dizziness assaulting her senses. "Shit..." Such a soft, angelic voice seemed... out of place cursing, even to her own ears, but she had taken up using the slang and hadn't been able to stop herself at all.
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