Raptus Regaliter (Egon&DobbyDevotchka)
<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: DobbyDevotchka on 25-11-2010, 06:47:06</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 06:47:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The air was thick with a stench that clung to her nostrils, a tensely acrid smell layered thick with memories that still clung fresh in Danyelle's mind.&nbsp; Not long ago she was often sublimated by the rich aromas of the french lilac shrubs that decorated the courtyards of her palace.&nbsp; A sobering glance around her cell block would quickly remind her that she wasn't within a familiar dwelling, if this could even be considered a dwelling at all.&nbsp; The walls of the cell were tall stony barricades, decrepit with years of inhabiting the foul-natured citizens of this foreign region.&nbsp; The suffocating atmosphere of the enclosure left its sufferers with little else to ponder than what was once within their grasp, before landing themselves in prison.&nbsp; &nbsp;The crude, yet effective shackles that snared her wrists were fixed to a length of chain that was tethered to a heavy anchor on the wall, an excessive amount of process went into keeping her captive in order to secure her delivery to her unmarked destination.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;She could remember as if it were only yesterday, sharing a luxurious spread of exotic fruits and berries with her family, which her King father had commissioned from his emissaries residing in some luscious rain forest unbeknownst to civilized man.&nbsp; He made certain that everyone recognized how long it had taken him to discover the delicacy, and even harder yet to manage and arrange their delivery.&nbsp; She had the mind to appreciate the effort he put into expanding her horizons, and she soaked up every opportunity like a dry, hungry sponge. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Her mother, a woman who's person described the word magnificent, made it her duty to school Danyelle in all ways to become a well-rounded royal lady; and she kept her in sharp check at that.&nbsp; Often, Danyelle looked back on the times her mother reached out to swat her with whichever adornment was gripped in her hand.. <em>"Tch... Danyelle! I am no longer your mahma, I am your Mother!"</em>... or <em>"When will you learn to prefer tea preparation over those sodding stables!"</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;The nagging was often brushed aside with a bemused grin, finding that her mother only lapsed into these tirades when Danyelle spent too much consecutive time outdoors. <br><br>The clanging of a bucket outside the thick steel door shook her from her nostalgic reverie, a vacant glance cast to the miniature opening that was attached to a sliding door latch.&nbsp; A dish of half heated grits was slipped into her line of site, and her stomach grumbled discontentedly at the notion of being filled with the slop. This was the first thing she had been offered to eat since her capture, and knowing this rendered her stoic visage into complete sadness.&nbsp; Wetness gathered at the corners of her eyes as the young princess, ripe with emotion, succumbed to her tears.&nbsp; She had not shed any since the dreadful attack, there had been no time to think, and so much more to do.&nbsp; Even when they had separated her from her loyal twin brother, she didn't so much as weep.&nbsp; And now to think that she hadn't a single idea where any of her family was, or even if they remained alive, it was sheer misery. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 00:04:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After the clanging of that bucket and the careless pushing of that dish of grits towards her, a near-silence settled. Some voices could be faintly heard, arguing then laughing; a distant clatter that could have been footsteps resounded, then faded; something that maybe was the jangle of metal rang out briefly, then stopped.<br><br>Only those few sounds reached the dank, cramped cell. And that made it easier to hear the march of determined footsteps not long after that sorry excuse for a meal was pushed inside Danyelle's prison - a reverberating sound of many boots beating stone. Getting closer. And lasting very long.<br><br>Maybe that called to mind the march of grim Venasyan soldiers on the lands ruled by Danyelle's father. Maybe even the raid on the isolated estate where Danyelle had been kept during the war - maybe the white-faced terror of her servants and attendants as they tried to run for their lives and, with the last of their abilities, tried to somehow arrange her escape. To no avail.<br><br>Maybe it recalled tall, heavily armoured figures who took her and whisked her away from the sacked and razed estate, as if she were only another piece of property. Maybe the clatter and glint of steel; the incoherent, roaring shouting of that day; and her own cries and screams, all melted into one terrible whole for the princess - a whole that the thudding march of many men couldn't fail to remind her of.<br><br>But she wasn't left with much time to think about that, had she even wanted to. Those footsteps grew much louder; so much louder that it soon became unmistakably clear they were close to the cell door.<br>That's when they stopped.<br>Steel clinked noisily over steel for the space of a few short moments, and the then-unlocked door yawned open to reveal a burly young man with a mop of dark hair, besuited in gold and dark green finery, and surrounded by a ring of guards. Guards in the same kind of heavy, molded armour as those who took her estate and captured her.<br><br><br><br>(http://img401.imageshack.us/img401/6628/huron.jpg)<br><br><br>**<br><br>The young man's eyes didn't hesitate a moment; that much poor Danyelle could probably gather, even in the reduced state she was in. He scanned the cramped little cell and then let his gaze settle on her, those eyes of his - amber! it was hard to tell in the flickering light of the hallway torches, but they were amber - alert, but not anxious. ... And easily betraying a certain excitement.<br><br>At first glance, of course, Danyelle wasn't much to look at; her torn dress, once exquisite, clung to her slender form, haphazardly showing glimpses of her bare skin - and the long, luxurious blonde hair that betrayed being beautiful when cared for was now clumped and matted and stuck together. And there were those tears glistening on her cheeks.<br><br><br>Several seconds passed. The young man stepped forward. No guard made a move to follow him into the cell. The young man didn't hesitate or dither; having examined the situation in the first few seconds after opening the door, he now seemed thoroughly at ease in this dank cell; in this hollow enclosure of stone with a frightened, shocked girl in front of him and a huddle of armoured men behind him.<br>Yet his stride didn't waver, and nothing disturbed the assurance in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing.<br><br>"You're going to be safe, warm and clean by tonight," he declared warmly, yet with a firm edge; the kind of voice one might use to soothe a wild animal. "And you'll be free to forget all about this cell. I'm Huron, and you're coming to my palace with me, Danyelle." His last sentence was pronounced in a casual, sure tone, and those eyes of his burned into hers as his lips shaped the words.<br><br>Huron. Of course. The Venasyan prince. Known <em>of</em> far and wide, though not many knew him.<br>"Eat your food. Make sure you have a full belly." That subtly soothing tone... again. Again. Huron was reputedly a highly skilled horse trainer... maybe he had a special knack for handling recalcitrant, bewildered creatures?<br>But Danyelle may not have had time for such speculation. Not in her state.<br><br>**<br><br>The tips of Huron's forefinger and index finger stroked Danyelle's cheek for a second... perhaps two. Still looking at her, he fished for something in the recesses of his opulent, dark green satin robe. "When you've finished eating, I'll put this on you and you will be taken from the dungeon," he murmured softly, holding up in his hands a gold-hued satin blindfold edged with luxurious black lace; the first symbol of anything civilized she'd seen in her captivity, other than his immaculate figure. One she would only get to put it on her bruised, abused self when she was done with... her food; and judging by the way he remained standing, and looking impassively but with curiosity - this devil, this <em>bastard</em> - was going to watch her eat this slop, with her dress torn up and her cheeks wet with tears.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 06:36:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; As the heavy footfalls of the food usher passed further down the hall, she began spitefully sniffling back the bitterness that still clung raw in her throat, ripe with ire for the people responsible for her current state of affairs.&nbsp; There were no presences she had to maintain airs with, although she couldn't allow herself to entertain her self pity.&nbsp; For all she knew, any one of her 'people' could be meters away in another cell, or, of course they could be dead.&nbsp; This chaffed her deeply to even consider its possibility, and further galled her to know that she'd be alone with these thoughts for any amount of time.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; She scorned her father for his tact, his protective instinct fueling the need to keep their world's politics out of Danyelle's life.&nbsp; He feared it would deter her from becoming exactly what she'd envisioned herself achieving, without all the intricacies that tied into being someone of high stature.&nbsp; He hadn't been perfectly effective in keeping all of it from her understanding, she was a clever girl ever since she had learned to read, and she knew how to seek information by going to the right sources.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; None of her scant knowledge could soothe her mind now, as she sat in mind numbing contemplation, over whether it was even a discussion in the matter that she put that gruel close to her mouth. <br><br>&nbsp; The clamor of at least a half dozen armored men was shortly heard by her attuned ears, although she hadn't yet spent enough time in these jails to ascertain a guess as to what their presence represented.&nbsp; She crouched perfectly still, her ear seeking toward the dull sounds, expression somewhat knit in a look of pointed concentration.&nbsp; The scraping of metal against stone floor, the unified bustle of soldiers armor, it caused her curious resolve to falter.&nbsp; The association was immediate, it took a half moment for her to glimpse the images of those dreadful events that began to transpire days ago, cough through the stenches of burning residents and buildings.. - and the people.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br><div align="center">(http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/109/4/2/42a284c2c5c50786844dcd08beb9cd88.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; The entirety of the few minutes it took for the heavy door to ease open, Danyelle hadn't been aware that it was her cell that was being accessed, and her sense seemed to grip her with a blinding anxiety one feels when they've realized someone was indeed watching them from a far.&nbsp; She could hardly even begin to guess who would be waiting for her on the other side, and when her icy azure gaze ignited upon the distinguished young mans form,&nbsp; they narrowed desperately to search for a recognizable feature.&nbsp; She startled upon meeting his amber gaze, a depth that cast an immediate intrigue, for it was a shade she couldn't remember placing on any other face.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;And he was dignified, as she, his clothing told her so.&nbsp; But none of this served to alleviate her questions that needed answering. <br><br>&nbsp; "My family!... What of my parents!?" She challenged, her voice vibrant with urgency and rife with impatience.&nbsp; It was clear she considered herself of pedigree caste, despite the fact she no longer knew what the status of her home be.&nbsp; "<em>Huron</em>... You are a benevolent man for having furnished me a room to stay in your palace.&nbsp; I am not an average citizen refugee-..&nbsp; I'll be forever greatful to be rid of this cell!" And then she abruptly bit her tongue, suddenly realizing that he knew her name.&nbsp; Her eyes were wide and yet focused on his, the clearest shade of blue, that cut through the grime and faded tear stains beguiling her otherwise soft features.&nbsp; She maintained a presence, of authoritative self-assuredness, her posture imbued thoughts of her endurance and perseverance.<br><br>&nbsp;His suggestion that she eat the bowl of 'sustenance' that they had served her did not bide well with her appetite or palette, and she tritely pushed the dish aside, it skidding in a clattered protest that echoed shortly in the cell.&nbsp; An incredulous look swept her face, one of disgust that he even try to have her eat something like that, off the floor. <br>&nbsp; The warmth of his fingertips lightly caressing her cheek caused her to flinch away, unsure yet of what she wanted to make of him.&nbsp; He was most decidedly handsome, strikingly so, but she did not know him, and she hardly practiced intimations like a brush to the cheek, save perhaps for the dearest souls in her life.&nbsp; That gaze of his, it was still luring her to trust him immediately, and feel indifferent about who he is and where he hails from. <br>&nbsp; The light scent of his fresh and foreign cologne, a greedily welcomed contrast to the air of the enclosed space, caused a lash to flutter, it beckoning her even further still toward the prospective departure of this dungeon.&nbsp; <br><br><br>&nbsp;"I don't require food, I am not hungry.&nbsp; I will wait until we arrive at your palace." .. She told him, with certainty laced in her burnt honey toned voice.&nbsp; It was rich and warm, soft like velvet, leaving the impression that she was a quick whited, canny young woman.&nbsp; Canny enough to put on the air of being burdened by having to wear the beautiful satin blindfold.&nbsp; It would put her late bedraggled gown to shame, and more so, she wondered why it was necessary.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Never the less, she gestured to the piece of smooth fabric with a slight jutting of the chin, much too proud to ask for him to do it aloud.&nbsp; That somehow if she asked him, it would mean that she agreed to it in the first place, which she had not. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>27-11-2010, 00:51:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"My family!... What of my parents!?" Danyelle demanded urgently. That didn't seem to disturb Huron much; his expression remained, not stony, but the calm and unperturbed one he had been wearing since he took those first few steps into her cell; his amber eyes as calmly watchful as before, his breathing regular and steady.<br><br>The extravagantly well-dressed man let a moment pass before replying. To savor the scene? To consider his response? Merely to watch her? She'd never know.<br>"Your family is alive and well," he answered, a note of reassurance imbuing his words. Only a note.<br>It was clear this, to him, was a peripheral concern.<br><br>When, moments later, she thanked him for the accommodation and then haughtily declared she was no citizen refugee, Huron smiled broadly - the distantly amused smile of a predator cat where the mouth spreads wide, revealing teeth, yet the eyes only sparkle with muted interest.<br>He watched her. Watched the beautiful girl and, most of all, watched her composure. He watched that poise, that presence of authoritative self-assuredness, that seemingly couldn't be erased. He watched her in the steady, calm, inquisitive manner of a man inspecting a purchase - and that smile lingered on his lips, a smile now of quiet approval and pleasure.<br><em>I chose well.</em><br><br>**<br><br>Huron paced over to where the recalcitrant girl pushed the dish away, bent to pick it up and then brought it back to her.<br>There was no anger in his manner; it was like putting back a household that an angry child knocked away during a tantrum. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Eat," Huron calmly asserted, looking down into Danyelle's still proud, still assured eyes, on her tear-streaked face. His eyes weren't weary; they weren't tired from the ordeals she went through; they shone with the strength and purpose that the man exuded.<br>"The journey is long and you'll need food. I'm not telling you this without a good reason."<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The warm baritone of his voice resounded mellifluously in the cold, inhospitable stone cell.<br><br>**<br><br>The gesture she made toward the blindfold - her chin jutting out imperiously, as a wordless signal - was summarily completely ignored. Toying with that blindfold as if she'd never made any reference to it, Huron continued, looking down at the woman: "You are going to live as my property, Danyelle. You are something I've wanted for a long time. Stories spread for years to every nearby kingdom about your beauty, your wit and your charm, as you must know; of course you know - you're a smart, well-informed girl."<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"... And I decided no other woman would be good enough for me.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I burned through three counties to get you, Danyelle. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; You are mine."<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>27-11-2010, 08:24:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The condition of her peace of mind was dramatically soothed at the assurance of her family's safety.&nbsp; It was the one certain doubt that had been weighing heavily on her conscience.&nbsp; Never had Danyelle experienced such apprehension about every passing minute that happened by. A sense of appeasement suffused her slight form, but the feeling never truly registered on her ever concerned look, filled with contention. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;As his consuming eyes laid heavy on her lowly position on the floor, she shifted unconsciously within the remaining tatters of her once brilliantly crafted gown.&nbsp; The smile that played out upon his warmly enduring features captivated a part of her attention that she couldn't quite understand or discern.&nbsp; It frustrated her.<br>&nbsp; She didn't know whether to smile, or respond to the silence that had began to build.&nbsp; He was certainly enchanting.&nbsp; Or was she enchanted by the burnished hue of his gaze.<br><br>&nbsp; But then the near awkward silence was once again stilled by his reiteration that she must eat.&nbsp; The prospect of her walking out of the cell door with out any further objections soon vanished before both of their eyes.&nbsp; Her smudged accentuated lips parted to sling more words of opposed reasons that were quickly dampened as he continued to explain his intentions for being with her in this sorry dungeon.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;His last triumphant statement, claiming his ownership of her rights, settled broadly in the space and it simply rattled her to the bone.&nbsp; To be forced to endure this type of treatment, only to be told that he would take her, and have her as his own.&nbsp; This was the last plausible possibility Danyelle could have ever rationalized.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Spitefully, with the venom and quickness that an asp applies when striking its prey, she stole the dish from Huron's grip and dug into its shallowness with the tips of her free hand, dirty fingers scraping the despicable porridge into her palm.&nbsp; Without thought or sentiment, she slung the grits against the wall, an audible splat emphasizing her point, forced through the tension in the room.<br><br>&nbsp;And as if to drive the combatant spike further, she brought her hand down to pass over her sharply extended tongue, the tacky bland mixture forcefully swallowed down her throat..&nbsp; It was a defiant expression.&nbsp; She wouldn't eat that, especially if Huron suggested it with good intentions.&nbsp; Her intentions were clearly not aligned with his. And she needed to enforce her point.<br><br>"I am are <em>yours</em>?.... <em>I</em> - am <em>YOURS</em>?" .. the ring of the chains connected to her wrists jostled with her confrontation.&nbsp; " I am NOT a prize to be won.&nbsp; Nor will i be satisfied with your reason for seeking me, like this."&nbsp; &nbsp; She was tense, strung tight like a tripwire.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>27-11-2010, 23:32:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That splurge of porridge might have been the freshest thing that touched the neglected stone slabs in a long, long time.<br>Huron silently watched the beautiful, shackled blonde spitefully throw that food against the wall, every tensing of her muscles an act of pure, defiant protest. His eyes were narrowed, and was that - was it? - the slightest upward curve of his lips, painting an expression of appreciation over his face. <br><br>Oh, how those lovely blue eyes burned with fire at him as she mockingly licked her fingers clean. They made a gorgeous point of contrast, those eyes, sparkling blue against the lightless darkness of the dungeon and her shock of long blonde hair.<br><br>And Huron's gaze did not break from those fierce, proud, defiant blue eyes for a moment as Danyelle, simmering with rage and indignation, licked her long fingers clean of the porridge she loathed so intensely.<br><br><br>Some men might have hit Danyelle at that point. They might have slapped her for her impudence, or pulled sharply on her hair with an anger they couldn't control. Or, perhaps, they would have tried to outright beat her into wordless submission. <br>Not this man. Huron stepped next to the glowering, chained woman, anger setting her fine features into a fierce and beautiful expression, and leaned down so his lips were near her face. He took a handful of her hair - there was no tug; he merely painlessly held it - and whispered in a langorous voice tinged with... with the hints of a growl. With the hint of something that brought to mind the image of a feral wolf: "You're just going to stay hungry on the trip now, Danyelle. This was your choice. For your sake, I wanted to offer you something to keep your hunger in check."<br><br><br>Huron's hand released the shock of vibrantly flaxen hair it held, and he pulled himself up, looming above her now.<br>Flickering torchlight from behind ominously lit his burly, tall frame.<br>He looked down, maintaining the contact with those wild and angry blue eyes gazing back at him. There wasn't a hint of flinching or uncertainty - nothing that the fury emanating from Danyelle's eyes might have induced in someone else. Danyelle's gaze hit a wall: against someone used to commanding and to patiently training, the indignation she radiated was like a blast of water splashing on stone.<br><br>And Huron looked down, every scintilla of strength and power the man had brimming in his gaze. It might have seemed as if the space between the two pairs of eyes - the battleground of the contest of those two naked wills - should have grown heated.<br><br><br>"You -are- mine," he declared slowly, letting the words fall with obvious relish. "You -are- a prize to be won." No dithering in his voice. No trembling. No attempt to convince her. Only the calm certainty of someone conveying a truth to an unwilling, disbelieving listener.<br>She was a prize to be won, because he had wanted it so. Because she was beautiful, fierce, proud and quick-witted, and because he wanted her. And tore through half a world so he could have his way.<br><br>"Now, come on, Danyelle," Huron continued, his voice easy and untouched by agitation, as he bent down again to wrap the blindfold around Danyelle's eyes (the caress of satin must be an explosive pleasure after the hell of this dungeon, mustn't it?), letting darkness fall on her sight and snugly tying the laces behind her head. "We ought to get going. In a moment, I'm going to unshackle you and then bind your hands behind your back. Don't try to escape. The guards will stop you, and you might hurt yourself. And I don't want to get markings on you before I've even delivered you home."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 22:39:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Danyelle was far from being the ungrateful sort, having developed a rather understandable aptitude for knowing when credit or thanks were due, but she was not in the frame of mind to be considering his thoughtful inclination that she eat, despite how hungry she may be.<br><br>&nbsp; The fact that he remained so impervious to her defiant words or actions only served to goad her tempered rage that roiled within.&nbsp; His brilliant gaze cast down upon her, unwavering sureness of his claim on her.&nbsp; Undeniably handsome, his eyes simmered, adding to the rugged masculinity that he harbored in every iota of his being. <br><br>&nbsp; His scintillating warm breath gathered against the cove of her cheek, the tangled mess of her golden hair insulating the remnants of his words against her besotted cool flesh.&nbsp; A fleeting shiver quaked down her arm, and she moved to shake the tickle free of her tortured senses.<br><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; And as he continued, that brazenly sure and calm voice of his, she began to stiffen, the fire that blazed within exploding into a contained inferno that would put all the flames of hell to shame.&nbsp; She seethed, a derisive exhale of held breath as she moved to stand, to challenge this stony, unyielding man, who nearly seemed to take enjoyment from her predicament. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; She stood mere inches from his striking face, looking upward, lips drawn in a straight unmoving line as she assessed the solemnity of his statements.&nbsp; Her baleful gaze moved past his shoulder to the grouping of armor clad soldiers that waited around the entrance of the cell, deciding to herself that she'd rather acquiesce to the more welcoming option of allowing him to blindfold her without causing a scene.&nbsp; She wanted to remain clear of the infantry men, knowing that they'd more than likely rejoice in subduing a fitful girl.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; She could only suffer over what he intended of her.&nbsp; Was she to become a servant?&nbsp; A hostess? A wife to be bred? Whatever her mind came up with, she rejected furiously, for she was a Princess, with her own mind to do as she pleased.&nbsp; At that moment she agreed to herself that she would take whatever he forced upon her, and appease him with the hopes that one day she'd be free of his grasp.<br><br>&nbsp; "You will rue the day you ever decided to take me in as your own....&nbsp; I swear it." <br><br>&nbsp; The last of her words were very nearly spat into his face, the close proximity allowing him to see the flare of her nostrils and the furious tremble of her mouth.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Her head moved to dodge the approaching satin blindfold, only once and very shortly, before truly allowing him to tighten it around her eyes, and indeed it was a welcome texture she'd not resembled in quite sometime. It felt cool, and luxurious, a smooth gliding sensation that played on her skin. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>29-11-2010, 01:55:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You will rue the day you ever decided to take me in as your own....&nbsp; I swear it." <br><br>Huron drank in the expression of her face as she uttered those words with venom; drank in the flare of her nostrils and her mouth's trembling. No, she didn't fall apart - didn't collapse into a sobbing heap; a princess to the last.<br><br>She didn't even passively, resignedly accept his blindfold.<br><br><br>After having blindfolded her, Huron turned away, his fine robe rustling in the perfect silence of the dungeon and his steps, soon, mutedly resounding.<br>He did not say a word to the shackled girl that he'd just blindfolded.<br><br>The next audible thing, after some moments, was the yawning, metallic creak of the steel door. And then its closing shut, with a boom.<br><br><br>Footsteps. Footsteps. Footsteps. Footsteps again, getting closer... this time, he was returning to her.<br><br><br><br>Huron's fingertips traced the indents of Danyelle's cheeks. He was gentle and languid, drawing the tips of his fingers across her face, from her jawline to her cheekbones, in broad, meandering patterns.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;His breath caressed the tip of her nose<br>Long seconds stretched themselves out. Long seconds of coldness, of the hard, merciless metal around her wrists, of his fingertips on her face and the faintest billow of his breath on her nose.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He did not say a word. But if there was one thing his actions, summed together, could have said, it was: <em>You are safe.</em><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The tip of his right index finger brushed through her golden hair.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Very soon, he kissed her cheek. It was the first time his lips touched her skin. The kiss was soft, dragged on for several moments, and left almost-imperceptible wetness.<br>Huron exhaled on her cheek; he was so close she could hear it as she felt it, and it made the all-but-there wet residue tingle against her skin.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He brushed her cheek with the back of two fingers and then pulled away. His breath and his strong, masculine scent faded away.<br><br><br>Her wrists were promptly unshackled, Huron releasing them in a quick and efficient manner with the clink and jangle of metal; but he kept both wrists together with one hand as he did so, clasping them between his thumb and his fingers.<br>Once the shackles fell away, each of Huron's hands held one of Danyelle's wrists. Very slowly, languidly, he moved her hands around her body and let them lay on the small of her back. He certainly took his time - it was clear he enjoyed holding the blindfolded girl's wrists in his grip.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; His rough-skinned palms blazed with warmth on her skin. <br><br>As soon as both her hands lay on her lower back, palms facing up, Huron removed his right hand and let the other one clasp both wrists; and a moment later, there was another clink of metal as a pair of handcuffs bound them together and locked shut. <br>He walked back to the door and opened it once again before returning to where Danyelle was standing.<br>"We're going to walk to my carriage, Danyelle, which will take us back to the palace. Walk ahead, and I'll guide you."<br><br>His fingertips. Again.<br>This time on the small of her back. Above her hands.<br>Their pressure, through her thin layer of ragged clothing, was all too palpable.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>29-11-2010, 20:36:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; A new form of awareness fell over the deeply troubled princess, the blindfold having distilled her attentions, now relying solely on the acuity of her hearing, and much less on her sense of sight.&nbsp; &nbsp;A vivid memory sprung to mind, of a time when some young children had cornered a stray Tom cat in the courtyard of her palace.&nbsp; They had tied a small burlap sack around the cat's head, for the sake of laughing at how the defenseless animal reared into corners, tail bristled and tongue spitting.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;The overwhelming urge to panic, like the ill-fated Tom in her passing memory, nagged at every fiber of her being.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;Huron would note the escalating pace of her hurried breathing, hands shifting in the shackles that only served to make her all the more uneasy. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; The sound of his footsteps leaving her side after tightening the blindfold caused her to sidestep from where she stood, honed ear trying to match where he was headed, and for what purpose.&nbsp; Step... Step... Step...... and then the resounding boom of the door closing.&nbsp; The boom was louder than she remembered it being, and she startled at the hollow echo, feelings of claustrophobia niggling at her throat.&nbsp; She swallowed back a dry lump that had started to add to her steadily amounting discomfort.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<em> ".. you must endure Danyelle... Father will come for you, and he will make this Huron pay for all of his deliberations.&nbsp; Germaine is no doubt already seeking me out. Brother wouldn't rest until he knew I was safe, returned to my homeland..."</em> ... she could only reaffirm this to herself mentally, and it assisted her barely, just enough to keep her subdued long enough to get out of this dungeon.&nbsp; Her possibilities of retrieval, rescue, or escape could solely rely on her making it safely to Huron's palace, without a violent fit.<br><br>&nbsp;A sharp inhalation of breath drew past her clenched teeth as she felt the tips of his fingers rake softly over the contours of her cheek, and she'd whip her face away from his advances.&nbsp; It shocked her deeply how much the sense of touch was augmented now that she couldn't see, the trace warmth of his fingertips permeating the sensitive&nbsp; neglected skin. <br>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; " I beseech you, do not treat me like a exhibit to be fondled... touched or ogled.&nbsp; &nbsp;I will surely fall victim to the insanity which you force upon me!"&nbsp; ... she bellowed, desperation rung true in her escalating tone.&nbsp; The feel of his breath hushing gently against her nose, filling her nostrils with the heady aroma of a perfectly well-groomed man.&nbsp; And then came the kiss, so unwelcomed was this that she again cried out in shear unbridled angst, as if someone came and pinched her on the back of the arm unexpectedly.<br><br>&nbsp; Danyelle simply vibrated, haunted by his looming presence, unable to do much else but wait for him to unchain her from the wall.&nbsp; Would he find her restraint to lash out admirable? Or perhaps curious? She wasn't much focused on what he thought of her, more so drawn on what his intentions were. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;His firm grip around her wrists stifled any venomous words that would have been slung had he left her too long in waiting, the hard clink of the shackles dropping loose.&nbsp; She shifted defiantly against his tight grip,&nbsp; the tough calloused tips of his fingers were as unyielding as his ego. My, he was strong, and tactful in the way he released her, for there was no room for her to slip through a crack, so to speak. <br>&nbsp; The defining clicks of freshly placed handcuffs resounded with finality in the tight space, and she knew now that she was the closest she had ever been to escaping the dungeon.&nbsp; She fidgeted in spot, always aware of his position behind her, and shortly thereafter, she felt the sturdy tips of his fingers at the small of her back, coaxing her from her blind agitation into half-sure steps&nbsp; that would lead her to the exit of this cursed dungeon.&nbsp; &nbsp;She shuffled quietly, trepidatious, and spiteful of the way he pushed her to move where she surely didn't want to go.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>12-12-2010, 05:26:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was something beautiful about the way Danyelle's half-torn clothes shifted and strained against her thighs. Thighs that, even in her buffeted and depleted state, moved - <em>shuffled</em> - with an inextinguishable spark of sureness that broadcast this woman was a <em>princess</em>.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She was also a slave. She was property - cherished property. And she was unmistakably a princess.<br><br><br>Huron's fingertips on the small of her back never disappeared or weakened. They were a constant presence on her body, and something impossible to dispel from her mind, as she walked out of that cell and through long, cold corridors. Two fingertips pressing into the indentation of her spine; two resting, relaxed, on her lower back. <br>And the untroubled baritone of his voice, directing her this way and now that. Guiding her on long walks and up several flights of steps she had to tread very carefully.<br>Past unintelligible murmurings - and - and - were those <em>jeers</em>? Was that <em>laughter</em>? It was too distant and too indistinct for the princess to tell; past all that, and over hard, icy, rugged and even cobblestones.<br><br>Sometimes, it looked through her blindfold almost as if the light of torches flickered, guttered, and occasionally even dimmed into near-nothing.<br>But of course, she could hardly be sure.<br><br><br>And through it all there was one constant.<br>Warm human touch on her back.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And at times his voice, his sure, low, steady voice. Guiding her throughout.<br><br><br>**<br><br>She might have lost count of how many minutes' she'd been walking when a clamor louder than any she could have heard in this place yet began registering in her ears. And, not long after hearing it - time enough to wonder what it might be - not long after, Huron's fingertips left her back (... just like that!) and she could clearly hear him walking a few paces away, exchanging a few casual, easy words with another man - a man clearly deferential to Huron, his voice betrayed - and then... then... Huron was back, and the familiar sensation of his gentle, warm press registered again. He was back, with the velvet words whispered in her ear: "Let's keep walking."<br><br>They didn't take ten steps before the scraping, ponderous sound of a wooden door yawning open had rung out, and suddenly Danyelle was struck by morning sunlight and heard her clamor much more clearly: it was the noise of a populated fortress courtyard, made up of men's rough and rapid staccato chatter, the excited whinnying of horses, and the pervasive clank of metal. Trace scents of all those lingered in the courtyard, but her nostrils were unmistakably breathing clear, breezy spring air - nothing like the fetid staleness in the dungeon.<br><br>"We're going to my carriage," he answered one of her unasked questions and lay to rest some of the uncertainties that had plagued her. Those fingers on the small of her back still didn't waver. As if the bastard took women back to his palace, like precious trophies, every day.<br><br><em>Maybe he did.</em><br>But it's probably best not to think about that.<br><br><br>She heard Huron engage in another short exchange as they continued walking across the courtyard, and only seconds after it his fingers prodded her slightly upward and he calmly said, "Climb in; we're here."<br>Was that a note of relish in his sonorous baritone?<br><br><br>And then it was like entering another world. It was like being able to breathe deeply and fully again, in not just the literal sense. She climbed into a spacious compartment with a velvet floor on which her steps were soundless, and in a moment she was eased on to a plush, wide seat THAT her lithe frame almost sank into.<br>There was the faintest crumpling sound. Thick curtains that he must have held open for her had collapsed behind him.<br><br>Now that she was seated, Danyelle's handcuffs came off: Huron took her wrists and deftly undid the cuffs, setting them aside on the seat. The blindfold came next.<br><br>Her world exploded, then. Color and shape rushed back into the world, and she could see the carriage's interior of mahogany and maroon velvet for the first time; she could see the tall, vaulting roof with that telltale mahogany sheen, reflecting the light of four lamps - one in each corner - and she could see the thick curtains of a deep maroon that insulated the carriage from the outside world. Only a sliver of sunlight peeked in.<br><br>And she could finally see better the man who took her. Huron sat next to her, apparently without tension, but watching her intently. Not nervously - only attentively. Paying attention to how she was. Paying attention to what she seemed to be needing.<br>His amber eyes drank in everything they could about Danyelle, and they were as animated as could be - in contrast to the regular rise and fall of his chest under his robe, and his arms resting at his sides.<br><br>And there was so much for her to drink back, too. Aside from interest in her - aside from the fact that she clearly held his full attention - there was... infinite patience in those eyes, coupled with hints of a hunger and an inexhaustible energy simmering at the edge of his gaze.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Words were trivial here, of course. Huron didn't utter any.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; There was only the fact that he was a man and she was a woman. And that he made himself her Master.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And there was his will, unafraid and bright in his steady eyes.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>15-12-2010, 09:13:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Danyelle felt every part the spectacle, moving down corridors and through stairwells, constructing a dim visual image of what it might appear to be.&nbsp; The darkness, the sound, the smell, and <em>-the touch-.</em>&nbsp; The only other sure presence, manifest in those two finger tips at the small of her straightened back.&nbsp; The approaching crackle of torches causing her to flinch as they drew nearest, ebbed once again as they moved at a continuous pace.&nbsp; Every minute that passed, Danyelle moved with a more confident step, having adapted somewhat to his pressure and guidance. <br><br>&nbsp; The building warmth penetrated the tattered silk, steady soft pressure, perfectly still, never wavering.<br><br>&nbsp; <em> what was he thinking, now, as he pointed her along? she in these ragged expensive tatters, hair undone with days worth of grime? What did he want with her? Specifically her?</em><br><br>Her thoughts here instantly extinguished as his fingers left her.&nbsp; And she chirped, nearly inaudibly at the surprise that betook her at that sudden disconnection.&nbsp; She up until then had relied on his fixed guidance, and without it in these unknown corridors, hand-cuffed, her mind thrilled with fear, until she heard him speak with some other man. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp;His fingers resumed their place on her back, and the march resumed.<br><br>&nbsp;The courtyard happened upon her awareness, as if one trips over the raised edge of a cobblestone, tripping up unexpectedly taken aback.&nbsp; Huron felt her immediate pause as the din of the crowd washed over her, auditory magnified yet undefined with the amount of activity going on.&nbsp; She gasped, tensing again after having regained that bit of sureness in the underground. <br><br>&nbsp; Deeply, she inhaled the sweet smelling fresh air, rich with oxygen, hungrily filling her lungs as if it were her only true nourishment.&nbsp; She heard him speak about heading to the carriage, and she nodded in understanding without any sign of resisting, struck deep by the satiation of being out in the open.&nbsp; This assured her on some level that life was not over, and that things could have surely gone worse.<br><br>&nbsp; Half-hazard steps were made as she moved into his personal carriage, recognized steps, but hesitant.&nbsp; The warmth that suffused her limbs almost coaxed her into a state of instantaneous relaxation.&nbsp; The feel of the soft rich bench seat, how it accommodated her light weight in a plush cradle. The tattered gown exposed enough skin for her to truly appreciate the luxurious softness of the rich upholstery.<br><br>&nbsp; And then that crowning moment arrived, when Huron finally removed the cuffs and blindfold.&nbsp; And her world did indeed change.<br><br>&nbsp;The mental visuals instantaneously transformed into the true, and she was immediately met with his engaging stare. <br>&nbsp;Danyelle in turn jerked backward an inch, her features played into a silent gasp as her eyes blinked into focus.&nbsp; It was apparent she didnt know what to do with herself, not completely free of restraint, and vision restored.&nbsp; The vibrant colors that decorated the walls of the carriage indicated his status, his wealth, his responsibility.&nbsp; &nbsp;The aroma, so foreign to her, she yearned to know its components.<br><br>&nbsp;All at once, as he stared back at her, she felt the all consuming weight of self-consciousness, and how she must smell. How she must look.&nbsp; How she was probably dirtying the expensive fabrics. Her brows furrowed, unable to now look him in his magnetic eyes.&nbsp; It was like she didnt know what to do with herself, the confusion playing on her face, cheeks feeling as though they burned with blush as he watched her, only intent on her best interest.<br><br>&nbsp; <strong>"Do you try to make me feel like a dirty peasent."</strong>&nbsp; She whispered a question, almost in a rhetorical tense.&nbsp; Her hands moved so that she could intertwine her fingers, as if they took their given freedom for granted, not really knowing what she should do with herself.&nbsp; Her thoughts passively flickering to a memory, thinking of how all the adolescent women used to fawn over her brother, worrying incessantly about their appearance and how she now felt the same way.&nbsp; He was so strikingly handsome. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Egon</strong> on <strong>19-12-2010, 20:35:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>"Not at all,"</strong> Huron answered, his baritone faintly rumbling in an undisturbed tone.<br><br>His eyes didn't leave hers. The confusion, bewilderment and uncertainty in her eyes were met with everything that roiled in his: his assurance, his excitement and pleasure at having captured such a beautiful prize, and the curiosity and interest in her that had been building up, and getting sated in pieces here and there, throughout the day.<br><br>Eyes never left hers. No.<br>She could see his slightly full lips parting by a barely perceptible fraction of an inch as he brought his hands down to hers. Warmth washed over her fingers and the backs of her hands as rough, masculine skin enveloped them.<br><br>No sounds at that moment. None. Except the regular, subdued galloping of horses and the occasional noise of the countryside. Nothing but him, her, and that plush and spacious interior.<br><br><strong>"Don't be afraid,"</strong> he murmured, one hand cupping her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb as he spoke, looking into her eyes. And indeed, his voice flowed with nothing but placidity; the ease of a man who knows there is no danger. <strong>"We're going to reach my palace soon, and you'll be cleaned, dressed and refreshed. And you'll be able to forget being like this forever."</strong> At that, he smiled; a broad and sincere smile. One that made his eyes sparkle. His tone wasn't exactly reassuring, the kind one might use to soothe an agitated animal; no - it was the casual, unhurried tone of someone describing what is going to happen.<br><br>He placed both hands on her neck, his fingers reaching up to lay over her lower cheeks. <strong>"You are mine now, Danyelle."</strong> Said in the flawlessly clear tone of someone describing a fact, again. He didn't even show the slightest bit of impatience or nervousness. He didn't betray the slightest hint that what he did was _not done_.<br>Oh, no. In this man's world, women who were desired were taken and enslaved.<br><br>An index finger trailed down her throat as Huron continued, his smooth-flowing baritone filling the carriage: <strong>"That simple fact is something you should always bear in mind. Your highest purpose is to please me. I am going to listen to you, take your concerns into consideration, and treat you as the cherished pet you deserve to be. And in the end I will make every decision regarding you, following my own judgment."</strong><br><br><strong>"You will always address me as either 'Sir' or 'my Lord', Danyelle. I'll be calling you by your name... or 'girl'. Or 'pet'. Depending on what I'm feeling like."</strong> He smiled again; broad and playful and with a hint of something darkly masculine.<br><br>His fingertips brushed the smooth skin of her cheeks; clearly, he wanted to fully enjoy his new property. Soon, his right hand descended to his girl's thighs and stroked their upper part, near where they flowed into her knee.<br>He was blatantly teasing himself as much as her. Despite his desire for her, and despite how beautiful her vulnerability made her, he wanted to fully enjoy her tonight. When she was ready, recovered, and when she could meet him looking beautiful in next to nothing.<br><br><br><strong>"Are you a virgin, Danyelle?"</strong> He asked in a drawl, his posture and manner at complete ease and only his lips moving as he spoke. Not more than six inches from hers.<br>Only his lips, and the fingertips drawing slowly on her skin.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Raptus Regaliter (Egon&amp;DobbyDevotchka)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DobbyDevotchka</strong> on <strong>22-12-2010, 06:18:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The two wills of both Huron and Danyelle were met stiflingly in the middle; both gazed into each others eyes with the same passion for their individual expectations of the other, intensely enough to set fire to the carriage.&nbsp; She had always been a persistent girl, and she continued to persist against wanting to believe he was truly trustworthy.<br><br>&nbsp; His hands reached to envelop her own, and this caused to break her stare, gaze falling to her lap.&nbsp; Her cheeks continued to glow healthy pink; her embarrassment, unsureness and some strange confused excitement caused the length of her arms and legs to tickle.&nbsp; &nbsp; The next instant his hand was now cupping the side of her warm cheek, his palm felt soothingly cool in comparison. <br><br>&nbsp; That continual abided reassurance of Huron's resonated so truly, that she couldn't help but continue to let her guard down.&nbsp; Intuition told her that despite the fact he was taking her away to his palace, that something in this alluring man could be trusted.&nbsp; Her vivid gaze snapped up to meet his penetrating golden eyes, and it faltered, the slight flutter of an eyelash, as he continued to promise her familiar comfort, never having to worry about being exposed to this filth, ever again.<br><em>&nbsp; 'You are mine now, Danyelle.' </em> <br>Danyelle's eyes intensified, as if reminding her of his claim ignited that underlying defiance that still remained intact since she first made his acquaintance.&nbsp; Her silence echoed thickly by the clatter of not-too-distant hooves.&nbsp; His words were as steady as he was, sure and firm like the defined plains of his form.<br><br>&nbsp; Every part of Danyelle reacted to the weight of his words, in perfect silence.&nbsp; The intensity of the energy in Huron's carriage was nearly palpable.&nbsp; His hands on her face, it felt electric.&nbsp; The elusive index finger that trailed down her ticklish throat triggered a tense swallow, as she attempted to maintain composure.&nbsp; What he told her didn't rightly make sense, and yet somehow, on a&nbsp; subconscious level, her mind made a connection that she inexplicably understood.&nbsp; No outburst or verbal refusal was yet to be made in response to his simply explained agenda.<br>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; Still no words she spoke, and he would maybe wonder what came over the seemingly forthright, outspoken princess.&nbsp; She shifted passively, the tickle that once ravished her limbs now seeming to stir in her tummy.&nbsp; The way his fingers danced on her cheeks in turn awakened vaguely familiar sensations.&nbsp; When he moved to her thighs, she squirmed lightly, knees drawing more tightly together.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her gaze never really could free itself from staring at him in some way. The profile of his face, the vibrant color of his hair, the cut of his chin; it all&nbsp; effected her on some level.&nbsp; She was the unknowing victim to his indefinably desired presence.&nbsp; Every semblance of her former morality and judgment went out the window when he confronted her so plainly, having bewitched her with his self. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;When Huron asked if Danyelle was still intact, a naive but knowing flash passed through her eyes, followed by another lengthy awkward silence.&nbsp; It were as if he knew he affected her, that way. and that she had no more <em>-anything-</em> left to hide.&nbsp; Thousands of unspoken words left open to interpretations flashed between the two before she nodded softly, in response.&nbsp; Her gaze thickened with moisture, but never enough to form tears, the growing warmth he channeled into her through his hands on her thighs, ever petting at that undeniable presence of her healthy young womanhood. <br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>