Post by Dante nó Valerian on Apr 13, 2010 15:06:11 GMT -5
I had no bitterness in being sold in Valerian House despite having tasted freedom, despite knowing that my mother could fully take care of me financially, even if not emotionally. It was not like other adepts here, whose parents had no other choice, who cried as they saw their child away. There were no tears from either of us for I paid attention, I had known for nearly a year or two that if I did not change that this was inevitably going to be my fate. I did not change. I changed for no one and I saw no reason to bicker over such small issues with my cousins nor get involved with circumstances that I cared little for and that was what my parents wanted. I took it in stride, knowing beforehand helped. It was not that the spiced candy of Valerian house did not hurt, it did, it surely had, making me want to spit it out, but I held it in for I had steel. I did not cry out or show weakness, I did what I willed with my patrons because I wanted to please them, but only for my own means.
Is that wrong, Naamah?
I never knew and I daresay no one else knew how I felt in an assignation room. They asked, of course, but it was a business, a deal that I held with my patrons behind closed doors so I merely brushed them off with a phrase or two and moved the conversation to other things. I never enjoyed pain, at least, not the way that I understood you were supposed to and the thing of the matter was, I never really got humiliated. I wondered what else there was for this house, for me, a house I had come to love for the people in it, the courage they had to face a room full of floggers and patrons who were not so forgiving. When they paid for a Valerian, they got one.
Even at the end of her leash, naked, hands bound, I still held my head high and that was why she had continued to contract me. First privately, now at her natal amongst her friends to show off. With a hand signal I had come to recognize, I moved gracefully to my knees and began to move my tongue into her depths in the way I knew she loved, heightened by the hand fisting in my hair. She moaned and I could sense the arousal of her companions marked by a finger I felt pressing into my backside.
“A delight, isn’t he?” She laughed as I moved my head and tongue away from her loins. The edge of her bullwhip moved to my shoulder, down my spine, tracing my finished marque. “And never breathes a sound during beatings, I’d like to change that... he probably makes such beautiful noises.” Tonight would be an interesting night, for certain, as I rose to my feet and allowed her to chain me, my eyes meeting hers.
“If you want me to scream, all you have to do is ask,” I said simply but one of her companions approached, chuckling.
“That’s the thing, what’s the fun in asking a Valerian to yield?”
No, no fun in that, is there?
Is that wrong, Naamah?
I never knew and I daresay no one else knew how I felt in an assignation room. They asked, of course, but it was a business, a deal that I held with my patrons behind closed doors so I merely brushed them off with a phrase or two and moved the conversation to other things. I never enjoyed pain, at least, not the way that I understood you were supposed to and the thing of the matter was, I never really got humiliated. I wondered what else there was for this house, for me, a house I had come to love for the people in it, the courage they had to face a room full of floggers and patrons who were not so forgiving. When they paid for a Valerian, they got one.
Even at the end of her leash, naked, hands bound, I still held my head high and that was why she had continued to contract me. First privately, now at her natal amongst her friends to show off. With a hand signal I had come to recognize, I moved gracefully to my knees and began to move my tongue into her depths in the way I knew she loved, heightened by the hand fisting in my hair. She moaned and I could sense the arousal of her companions marked by a finger I felt pressing into my backside.
“A delight, isn’t he?” She laughed as I moved my head and tongue away from her loins. The edge of her bullwhip moved to my shoulder, down my spine, tracing my finished marque. “And never breathes a sound during beatings, I’d like to change that... he probably makes such beautiful noises.” Tonight would be an interesting night, for certain, as I rose to my feet and allowed her to chain me, my eyes meeting hers.
“If you want me to scream, all you have to do is ask,” I said simply but one of her companions approached, chuckling.
“That’s the thing, what’s the fun in asking a Valerian to yield?”
No, no fun in that, is there?