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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Sept 29, 2006 10:40:18 GMT -5
Smiling, my eyes flashing with victory, I spun to the side and used his momentum to press him against the wall, hands grasped around his wrists harshly- then, I was away again and at the armoire, pulling the doors open and pulling out a sack to toss it on the bed- I'd had osme things set up ahead of time for quick preparation. I'd learned that this was the most practical way for him- there was always fighting between us and any advantage was to be taken.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 6:17:47 GMT -5
We have been fighting this fight too long not to know each other’s weaknesses, nor to sometimes let the other take advantage of them. Pain flashed through my wrists at her touch, bright and seductive, promising pleasure in its backwash. But I whirled round quickly, back to the wall, just in time to see my cousin dashing to the armoire, her hair flying out behind her like a banner.
So, she had prepared for this. Even when she had been angry, she had still thought of this … and me. I let that momentary softness cross my face. Holding my wrists out in front of me, I took a few steps towards her.
“Very well ..” I whispered. “Do as you will with me.”
My heart was beating so quickly I felt she could almost hear its betrayal. My cunning is no match for Sirena’s but perhaps I could take her by surprise.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 7:30:51 GMT -5
His features softened and he stepped toward me, wrists out- but something wasn't right. He never ceded- I knew him too well for this. He was testing me and I wasn't, for a moment, sure how to proceed. He was so much more predictable in a rage. Eyes filled with caution I took a step back as he approached though a soft smile of my own crossed my features and I reached into the bag, pulling a set of manacles and refusing to let myself be distracted by the way the light glimmered off of their surface.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 8:13:21 GMT -5
Ah, she knew me too well. She knows I don’t … can’t … yield lightly. But, even, as she stepped back, she smiled at me a siren’s smile, holding out her manacles as if she could lure me with their glitter. They’d look pretty on her wrists, prettier than they would look on mine but her mind was set and nobody changes Sirena’s mind, not even me.
And so I took the next step in this strange, wary dance, tension thrumming through my shoulders, the Kusheline blood pounding through my veins, careless of victory or surrender, as long as its demands were sated and its toll paid in pain.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 8:36:17 GMT -5
This time I stood my ground until his eyes showed the conflict and the heedless caring of the end result- and then, with a quick, smooth motion I attatched the manacles and looked up into his eyes, rewarding his good behavior with a kiss on the back of each his hand. Another look of apology- in my rush I'd forgotten to have him take off the shirt first- and I tore it from him with a smooth motion, rendering the point moot. Sometimes I just missed his skin, matching mine and just as lovely to be seen with marks of our passions, and so I kissed the center of his chest and then pulled a blindfold from the bag, holding it out to let him see what I intended.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 8:49:39 GMT -5
My head was full of wingbeats and vision awash with bronze as she darted forward and slipped the manacles over my wrists, the metal cold and heavy against my skin, rough against the marks she had previous left. The breath – and the fight – went out of me in a shuddering gasp. It’s not the pain I find so difficult, my heritage makes that easy, it’s the helplessness. My hands were trembling slightly, still outstretched towards her, as she kissed them.
I was quiescent as she tore my shirt from him but when she produced the blindfold the easy languor of Kushiel left me and I stepped back hurriedly, the manacles clanking discordantly, and shook my head.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 9:03:40 GMT -5
Raising a brow I took a step toward him- he could handle the blindfold, he just didn't want to. Silly boy- I was in charge this time and I wanted him in it. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Tal- and I like the hard way much less so I will make sure you do as well."
My hands reached out to the chain between his wrists and I yanked him toward me- my steps were smaller than his- and hoped that the feeling of the metal cuffs opening the wounds already present would daze him slightly, I dashed behind his head to place and tighten the already knotted fabric. "Now kneel or else."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 9:28:07 GMT -5
The manacles scraped roughly against the wounds on my wrists as Sirena caught the chain and, caught between resisting and an instinctive impulse to minimise the damage, I half-stumbled. Just about the worst of both worlds. I felt the skin tear as easily as paper beneath the metal, and smothered a cry of pain as best I could.
I had a vague awareness of Sirena moving past me but, by then, it was too late and my world went dark. This time I did cry out, but it was mainly the surprise of it, the sudden deprivation. There was a moment of eerie intensity in which the pain in my wrists blazed with increased brightness and then it was gone again, leaving the darkness complete and entire.
I stood, conscious of the ragged sound of my breathing, and then Sirena spoke close to my ear. I turned my head towards the sound of her voice, as if by seeking her I could somehow see her. Wrapped in chains and darkness, I knew I did not dare enrage her, and so there was nothing I could do but sink gracelessly to my knees at her feet.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 9:43:05 GMT -5
Ah, something in me loved the fear- the part that caused other people to fear even more deeply, a cycle of wonderous darkness and warmth. My gown was removed, knowing that he could hear the brush of fabric and maybe be just a little more dismayed at being unable to see that as well. "My Tal, my supplicant, my worshipper," I said with a smile evident in my voice and love evident in every syllable. "One day I will find you a collar to wear in such times."
From the bag came a whisper of fabric and I brought out a little tool- at one end was a crop and the other a flail, since leaving him unattended was a bad idea, even as unable to fight back as he may have seemed to some. Walking back to stand behind him I let the crop end run over the line of his spine, then with a quick reverse allowed the flail to run like water over the same line. "Can you guess which one this is?" I asked conversationally.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 11:17:57 GMT -5
Denied vision, I tried to concentrate on my other senses, as if I could make up for the loss. But there was very little there: a faint rustle from her dress as she shed it (I wish I could see her), the occasional jangle of my chains as I distributed the weight more comfortably on my knees, the scent of Sirena’s naked skin, a whisper of the fragrance from her hair, the wooden floor stealing warmth slowly from my body. Her words came to me through the darkness and I longed to reach out and touch her, although I had no means to find her or to do so.
I made a soft sound as I felt something trailing the length of my spine, so far bringing nothing but pleasurable sensation and the anticipation of pain. Even though there was nothing to fear in it, I moved a little in my chains. I couldn’t help myself. I was helpless, and I can’t bear to be helpless, although there is a part of me that craves it. when it is with Sirena. And then came her voice again so that I was no longer alone in my darkness, and I concentrated on her question instead of the panic that threatened to well up inside me.
Some sort of crop by the feel of it, but, with a swift swish, there came a very different sensation. “It’s the double-ended one,” I said, my voice a husky murmur. “It’s black with gold braiding.”
Not such a difficult guess really. Nearly everything we own is black and gold.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 3, 2006 11:29:46 GMT -5
Smiling- I somehow had known he would know and couldn't bear to strike him without his knowing what would come, it was too much and denied me the thrill of watching his anticipation and fear- I answered, "That's correct- but which hand am I holding it in? Here, let me give you a hint." With a slight twitch of my wrist- my right one, as always- I let the flail ends strike his back in a stinging blow.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 6:08:24 GMT -5
I jerked beneath the sudden blow – they always feel sudden, even when you expect them, especially when you expect them – making the chains rattle. Warmth burst on my skin beneath the tails of the flogger, and the flash of pain was lost amidst the lingering heat. Initially there is an unreality to the inevitability of pain, as if by the act of disbelief you can exercise some control over your response to it. This is just another illusion easily destroyed.
I could feel my blood stirring hungrily. It wanted more, so I did.
“The right,” I gasped.
I didn’t know but she always uses her right.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 7:07:57 GMT -5
"Are you sure?" I asked as I watched the welts rise on his back and hid the smile from my voice. It was rare that I got to bring out such toys for use on him- maybe I should drag him to events more often. With a graceful motion and a sligh swish of leather and wood I reversed the instrument in my hand, crop end now ready for use, and then lay a blow his left shoulder. "Does that help, my Tal?" I asked a little sweetly as my hands ran through the masses of his hair. "Have you changed your answer?"
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 7:26:03 GMT -5
I tilted my head back against her hands as she threaded them through my hair, the touch of the crop like a burning brand upon my shoulder. When you’re blind it’s too easy to lose the world entirely … everything except the world as circumscribed by the touch of another’s hands upon you.
“Yes … no … I mean … oh Elua,” I said. If I could have thought about it, I would have known she rarely used her left hand, and even if she had her blows would not have had the same force to them. But coherent thought was drowning in haze of bronze. “I don’t know,” I finished, shuddering helplessly.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 8:04:29 GMT -5
"Oh, my poor Tal," I cooed, some dark part of me delighted that he could become so baffled by a few simple actions from me and loving him even more for it.
With a quick step back I removed all contact from him and left him so for a moment, twirling the wonderfully balanced lash between my fingers like a baton as the ends made lovely sounds through the air. Then, when my own patience for seeing his skin left alone and untormented grew too much, I applied the crop and then the lash in a quick and fluid movement that tools like this were made for.
"Tell me how much you love me," I asked in a soft tone as I stepped forward again and let my nails run over his shoulders with gentle motions. "And when you manage to guess which hand you'll get a reward."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 8:47:06 GMT -5
She was taking me apart, word by word, touch by touch, and revelling in it, I knew. No wonder I fight this so. I knew the tauntingly soothing words were a precursor to something … she moved away so suddenly that emptiness enveloped me and I felt as if I was falling. And then I was falling. I caught myself on my chained hands.
Before I really had time to regain my sense of balance, pain lanced across my back, the sharp sting of the crop and the harsh rain of the flogger melding together until I could barely distinguish them. I hissed but I only cried out beneath the touch of her nails, the gentleness impossible to bear in the wake of the pain.
I pulled myself back onto my knees, tossing my hair out of my face, more out of habit than anything. “It’s always the right,” I managed, mustering myself, the words coloured by just a touch of defiance. As for the rest … she could wait a little.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 9:15:02 GMT -5
At his words the path on my nails stopped abruptly- part of me wanted to rip deep trenches down his back but I remained serene. "You are correct," I replied as I pulled back my hand to keep myself from finding the answer to my request in his blood and bone. "Name your reward- a small one, for it wasn't a difficult challenge. And none of the bonds will be removed."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 9:57:46 GMT -5
I felt a certain thrum of energy from her, enough to make me flinch a little when she lifted her hand. But her voice was still as sweet as honey. I threw back my hair again, as I thought – and tried to think quickly for she can be as changeable as mercury. I toyed with the idea of asking her to remove the blindfold, since it wasn’t technically a binding, but I knew such slipperiness would only rebound upon me later.
And because, chained or no, I am nothing but hers I gave a clumsy, clanking shrug, for I cannot allow her to have me too easily, nor would she appreciate it if I did. "Bestow what you will on me. It was your game."
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 10:22:32 GMT -5
"Then stand," I said with a note of mostly feigned sorrow in my tone- he would never give in easily but at least it kept me interested- as I moved closer to him and tossed aside the lash. "Your reward is to be wounded by my hand instead of with an intermediary."
My hand returned to his hair- no wonder we lust so for our distant blood, it is like proving our love for ourselves- and grabbed his hair, nails scrabbling over the skin on the nape of his neck. "Tell me, Tal, is that really a prize?" I let my breasts scrape his skin slightly, nipples hardened from the pleasure I took in pure control.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 11:06:15 GMT -5
In my darkness, I heard the clatter of the whip hitting the floor. I struggled to my feet, helped the rest of the way up by her fingers in my hair, tears springing to my eyes and dampening the cloth of the blindfold, as she pulled sharply on my vulnerable, unbraided hair. The pressure of her nails against my skin made me gasp but it was the tormenting brush of her nipples against my skin, the evidence of her desire to see me thus subdued, that made me groan. The blood turned into flame in my veins.
“Anything you do to me is a prize,” I panted.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 5, 2006 11:15:08 GMT -5
"Remember those words," I said lowly as I scraped my nails roughly over his back and then releasing his hair.
With a slight smile and my own pulsing in my ears at seeing him in chains I moved to stand before him and take him in. "You are lovely like this, Tal," I told him in an appreciative tone, knowing it would probably enrage him. Turning again I moved the now-empty bag off of the bed. "Can you find your way to me?"
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 6, 2006 6:56:00 GMT -5
Could I? With Sirena no longer at my side, controlling my every moment with the harsh touches of her hands, surrounded by nothing but darkness and emptiness, I wasn’t sure I could. I tilted my head towards the fading resonance of her voice. Pain is disorientating – I couldn’t quite discern in what direction I faced or recall precisely where the bed lay.
I took a few hesitant steps in the direction of her voice, feeling the wooden floor giving way to the softness of a rug beneath my feet. Perhaps that was a clue. The chains rattled with each step I took, a reminder of my own vulnerability I did not need. I took one more step, expecting any moment to bash into something or trip foolishly over my own feet. As it happened, I didn’t but I knew with every step I took the likelihood increased.
Ashamed of my helplessness, and hating it almost as much, I shook my head, unable to bring myself to answer more than that.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 6, 2006 7:23:58 GMT -5
His movements were slow and almost frightened-seeming with their hesitance- and he was only a few steps away. "So close," I said in a consoling tone. Softly, my footfalls almost silent, I went to him and lay a hand on his wrist, gently leading him the steps closer than he needed to arrive at the bed. "You've done wonderfully." I knew how hard this was for him, which was part of the reason I asked it, but it was still so rare a thing that any give should be acknowledged and understood.
My fingers began to wander over his skin, up the arms that were slightly tense from the weight of the manacles- another lucky side effect in my eyes- and then over his shoulders to neck, then finally down his chest, tracing the muscles there to his stomach. Finally, after taking my time with the caress, I reached the laces of the breeches he'd worn and untied them, sliding them to his feet. "Step out, please," I asked sweetly.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 6, 2006 8:42:16 GMT -5
I stepped forward heedlessly into her caresses, anticipating pain but receiving nothing but pleasure from her tormentingly light movement of her hands.
“I hate it when you leave me,” I said, with sudden passion, the words carrying the weight of far more situations than this. With the words came a surge of frustration and I reached out awkwardly to try and touch her, the chain swinging and clinking with the movement.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 6, 2006 9:06:46 GMT -5
"And I hate leaving you," I said quietly as I scooted the pants away. "If I didn't know you were near I'd go completely mad and wonder if this was all a dream."
I let his hands brush my skin for a moment, leaning in slightly for want of his affection, then dragged my nails over his skin to leave red, puffy marks. "Are you going to behave and go where I tell you?" I asked with a smile. "I find myself dreadfully longing for a taste of you."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 7, 2006 13:29:44 GMT -5
The harsh scrape of her nails made my breath come quickly as I tried not to cry out, even has the silken texture of her skin beneath my hands made desire flash through me. Oh how I craved her.
“Yes … yes …” I said, my voice ragged. I think I would have willingly acceded to any thing. “Hurt me … touch me … whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want." I wasn't quite reduced to begging yet but the pain of wanting her was far greater than anything she could inflict with her hands.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 7, 2006 14:02:24 GMT -5
My smile widened into an expression of happiness that would not have been out of place on any other girl on recieving a gift on her lover. "Oh Tal," I said softly. "I love you so much."
Gently I pressed him backward onto the bed and nudged him into position, head resting on a pillow as I hung the chain for the manacles up and over a hook at the top of the headboard, his chest exposed to me. "I want you to tell me how much you love me." My lips ran over the taut skin of his chest, taking a nipple into my mouth and biting on to it gently.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Oct 9, 2006 4:50:07 GMT -5
I felt the chain catch on something above me as I fell back on the bed at her urging. I struggled more out of habit than anything, testing, as ever, the limits of my restraint. Although they rattled, they did not slip and I took a deep breath to try and steady my nerves. Trapped, defenceless. I shivered, trying to make my mind accept it when all my instincts wanted to trash about as if I was no better than an ensnared beast, incapable of higher reason. And then came the touch of her lips and I arched off the bed, my body begging for her attention, although my lips would not.
“I love you well enough that I let you reduce me to this,” I said with a shaky laugh.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Oct 9, 2006 7:14:35 GMT -5
Smiling slightly I released his skin and sat up. "That is true, but I am sure that others would do so. Do you really only love me as much as others do?"
My mouth went back to its wanderings across his chest, a sharp bite of rebuke on his nipple but not enough to break skin. "Tonight will be filled with your screams and not mine," I whispered, both to him and myself. "It has been too long."
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