Inner Mind

[Suzuha]

She hadn't expected the blade. But then, wasn't that part of the thrill. She trusts him, at least enough not to hurt her with it. She senses that's not the blade's purpose. Never the less, bare steel demands attention and she watches closely as he divests her blouse of buttons, one by one, the tiny plastic plinks as each strikes the wooden floor. The material falls open inch by inch, revealing more of the pale skin of her chest. Her bra is elegant, soft white cups and straps decorated with small red roses over the inner swell of each breast. She's not a busty woman, but each breast would fill a palm comfortably. She'd often wondered what it'd be like to be well endowed, a buxom wench, though she suspects it'd be more of a pain than a help. Still, at times like this, she wishes she were just a little more lush.

His lips find hers and she parts for him as his tongue presses inside her. This she wanted so very much. She's not just accepting, she's inviting. Her tongue finds his, fencing playfully. His fingers tug a little in her hair and she lets free a tiny whimper but she does not pull away or fight. His to direct, his tune to dance to.

The cuffs scrape the wall and her wrists tug at the restraint once again. Still no escape. None 'til he allows. To that, she moans, just a little sound cut off as quickly as it escapes, but she knows she's telegraphed plainly that she's into this.

 

[Erlind]

I revel in every little sound I illicit from her. The kiss grows more wild and rough, my body demanding hers. Then I break away to finish the work I started. I slide the cool metal carefully along the pale skin of her smooth belly and up until it slips under the center of her bra. Then I pull up and out slicing the fabric open. I push the cups aside and smile at what I've revealed.

"Beautiful," I say almost more to myself than her. Perfectly shaped breasts complete the image I'm creating of innocence ravaged. I take a moment to enjoy and take her nipple between two fingers gently rolling it. I'm tempted to stop her, but there is still one more task so I give her nipple a little twist and release it.

My attention is then refocused on one of the last pieces of clothing that needs to go, her skirt. I like it, but for tonight I want it gone. Again the blade slips under fabric and I carefully saw apart the black fabric at the waist until it falls away from her. There is nothing underneath. She wore no panties to our little meeting and that causes the last shred of innocence to her to be torn away. I love it.

I turn and with precision throw the blade behind us. It sinks down into a wooden table betraying the destruction the simple tool that had been pressed against her flesh is capable of. Still looking away from her I begin to speak.

"Not so innocent as you tried to show are you? Regardless of what you presented you came here as a desperate needy little thing didn't you?" I turn to face her. My eyes burn into her, not with anger, but with lust. Hand grabs hair as I lean into her. My teeth harshly close on her neck as two fingers slip into her now exposed slit, slowly starting to explore.

"I want to hear you tell me just what you are. Make me believe just how desperate you are for this and maybe I'll give you what you need, little Suzuha."

 

[Suzuha]

She holds very still as his knife releases her breasts, each nipple stiffened inside small, dark areola. His confidence with the blade frees her of fear that he might cut her accidentally, but the cool steel is still a present danger and she's entirely unused to such close contact. His fingers scoop inside the loose cups and her chest rises to meet him, offering her breasts. She holds her top lip in her teeth as he rolls and twists, a breathed "yes" urging more. But he withdraws and turns the knife below. As he cuts, she blushes. She had imagined she might tease him with a hint of leg and hip as she pulled up her skirt, but this was more sudden, on his terms not hers.

As the black, ruined skirt puddles about her boots she let her face fall to the side, her hair falling in front of her face to keep her embarrassment from him. Her sex is framed by the companion suspenders to her bra, all white straps and lace with the same red roses arcing over her pelvis. She's not entirely bare, but a well kept triangle of downy fuzz pointed clearly to her nude lower lips.

She'd had control held close for quite some time; releasing it to him this way is difficult for her, but exciting all the same. She only knew the knife had left their presence by its impact in the desk beyond. It made her jump and she swallowed with the surprise, but he did not give her chance to recover. His hand gripping her hair, his teeth painful on her neck, she whimpers more clearly, though not just a wounded animal, a lustful girl also. She's already wet as his fingers slide slip inside the outer folds of her sex and the whimper turns into a moan, equal parts eager and desperate.

But what is she? Does he want her to tell him she's a slut? Does he want her to beg for his cock? He feels his lust against her, his fingers pressing inside her. Her legs part a little, letting him in, lowering, wanting more, deeper.

She let's her control go. "Please oh please fuck me. I... I want your cock inside me. I want to feel you enjoying me, enjoying fucking me. Please, Erlind, please fuck me." She can't manage it more than an in a small voice, but she's insistent, sincere, even as her hips try to give her purchase on his hand.

 

[Erlind]

The voice behind her words more than anything else pierces the last bits of my restraint. Hearing her beg like this, feeling how wet she already is, and the sheer control over her all stokes a fire making me ready to consume her with it. Fingers quicken their pace, searching for just the right way to draw the pleasure out for her. It’s not enough though, I want more.

“A visage of innocence and elegance that melts into something raw and sexual. All bound up just for me.” The words drip with lust and I grab her arm yanking her out of the little corner I’d kept her in. I pull her hard enough to make her stumble and bring her in front of a heavy wooden table. As lost in my desire for her as I am I don’t want the cuffs to dig into her wrists. I push Suzuha down, bending her over the table and pressing hot flesh against cool wood. I yank the belt open. Button undone. Zipper. Pants and boxers pushed down to reveal the length of my cock, thick and ready, framed with trimmed hair.

“As much as you are mine tonight, I needed you to be mine.”

A small admittance uttered before I slowly press into her hot inviting body.

 

[Suzuha]

Without her hands she is a toy to his strength and she gasps as he finds her clit with her fingers. She flexes against him, arching her wetness into his play. But he won't release her there, oh no. She yelps as she's yanked across the room, barely keeping her feet. The table is cold against her belly, breast and cheek. She quivers, sex bared to him atop slightly parted legs, the straps of her suspenders curving over her firm buttocks.

He tells her that he needs her too and she just whispers, "Please..."

Then his cock is parting her wetness, pushing inside her, and any further words are lost in a moan of longing. Her fingers clench into small fists, wrists still searching for a way out but finding none at all. She feels herself filled by him, wet and hot wrapped around his length. Her heeled boots help tilt her just right, just perfectly to accept him. As he drives into her, her nipples slide along the smooth wood, teasing them with tiny, cool frictions.

"Yes", she moans throatily, "please, Erlind, fuck me."

 

[Erlind]

My hand wraps around the few links of chain connecting her cuffs, cementing my control over her during this. I am slow at first, teasing her as I push deeper. Slow deep thrusts again and again, build into something faster in and stronger. The once well brushed hair is splayed wildly over the table as the act becomes more and more primal. Less and less control in us both.

“You feel so fucking good,” I grunt as I slam into her. Soon the sturdy table is shaking hard beneath the force with which I take the bound beauty. I groan like an animal as her tight body drags me closer and closer to ecstasy.

“Cum for me, little Suzuha!” The demand is made almost with a hint of anger.

 

[Suzuha]

He's rough and powerful, driving into, pressing her into the table. Each thrust drags a fresh moan or pant, each withdrawal a gasp for air. She feels him use her bindings to pull her onto him more deeply and the metal bites at her wrists in little shocks, but the pain just serves to remind her that she gave herself to him, that even if she wanted him to stop -- not that she did -- he now had complete control of her.

The roughness, the vigour, the little pains and great pleasures all built and built within her. Sex from behind had always been a good position for her, pressing insistently at a particularly wonderful spot inside her. But his insistence pushed her over. Her orgasm came in uncompromising waves, gripping at his cock inside her, clenching her stomach against the table.

She made incoherent sounds, more verbal than a pant or moan but sense lost entirely to their overtones. In this rapture, she did not pull away, except accidentally as the intensity grew within her, but as her orgasm subsided, she still quivered on the table top, glad of its support as her knees no longer felt capable of holding her.

 

[Erlind]

As she rocked with pleasure beneath me, I find myself drawn over that last little border. My free hand desperately grips the table and the hand gripping her cuffs twists biting the metal into her wrists. A long guttural groan passes my lips as I find release. I can feel myself emptying into her. As I finally come down from the high of it all I release my grip on her and lean heavily on the table.

We both rest there for a while, I’m not sure how long, unable to do otherwise. When I stand, my lips curl into another small smile at what is at my feet. I lean down I pick up the key I had tossed away earlier. I unlock the cuffs and pull them from her wrists, the marks of them still pressed heavy in her flesh.

It is the end of the night for the both of us. I may return, but our meeting is over. I pull my pants back on and collapse in a nearby chair. I produce a cigar, it is cut and then lit. The orange ember lights the curls of smoke that begin to fill the air around me. The fire slowly dwindles and the room darkens and fades until even the shadows are out of sight. A tiny ember is all that is left to light a man and the smoke that surrounds him.

"Goodnight."

 

[Erlind]

Cigar and its smoke are gone, but the smell lingers and has turned stale. I walk around the room slowly dusting off dull brass latches and throwing open the windows. With each newly opened portal more cold biting wind rushes into the room, buffeting the fire and making it nearly impossible to hear.

I lie back on an old battered brown couch for a bit and nearly pass out before deciding the wind has done its work. I close each window bringing silence once more only occasionally interrupted by the distant howls of wind outside. The scent of stale smoke has been replaced by that often found in used bookstores. Even with all the wind the room still does not smell fresh, but the scent is much more comforting.

I retake my spot on the couch and hope sleep will now take me. All I want is to drift off and have my rest, true rest. I wonder if I'll find it.

 

[Suzuha]

She slowly reforms in her chair. She feels a bit possessive about this chair, now, even though she knows she shouldn't be. After all, it's his.

He might be out. She senses he's not immediately around, least ways. She pulls her chair a little closer to the fire, appreciating its warmth in the relative dark of the place. Somewhere in the blackness beyond the firelight might still be a certain table, the notch of a knife point marring its smooth surface. She rubs her wrists at the memory, still marked from their rough first tryst. She'd do it again, though, unreservedly.

The blanket is still nearby, and she produces a vanilla-scented candle to help banish the last edges of stale scent. The match she lights it with she discards into the fire before settling the tiny flame on a low table beside her chair. She buries herself in the blanket and decides that here and now would be as good a time as any to get some sleep. He'll be back, she knows. Perhaps he'll play with her again?

A small, wicked smile touches her lips, twinkles like fire in her eyes, but soon she is sleeping soundly.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

The click of stiletto heels. Brown skinned woman, wolf, long gone~now coming round bearing a simple thought. The card is slipped into the mail slot of his front door~the envelope itself only carrying the single letter E pressed into the creamy expanse of blankness.

She retreats.

 

[Suzuha]

The candle has long since burnt out when she wakes again. It's dark, as it often is in this place, though the fire is thankfully still crackling. She'd like more light but it's not her place to change things here so she contents herself with a half dozen new candles atop the table still beside her chair.

She takes her time to scan the room, listening as much as looking, but he does not yet seem to be here. Perhaps he will be. She determines to wait, to show a little patience despite the childish flutter of attention-seeking that seeks to have her hopping about the place.

Instead, she draws a huge, ornately bound book from a small satchel she'd remembered to bring with her. There's absolutely no chance that the book could fit in the satchel, but it comes out all the same. The cover is heavily engraved with patterns and pictures depicting flowers and castles, birds and beasts, angels and demons, and more besides. Indeed, concentrate on the leather cover long enough and it might seem to flow, wings and pennants rustled by an imperceptible breeze, beady demon eyes following those who would regard it.

Other times she'd seek a particular page, but today she opens the book at random. As the pages part, sunlight spills in a radiant shaft from within the book, hot as summer, and with it the cries of gulls and salty tang of the sea. Rigging creaks and waves lap at the hull of a two masted brigantine moored in deep harbour at some lavish, foreign port. Sailors in uniforms of blue carry aboard supplies for some upcoming great adventure under the steely eye of the first mate. Their captain isn't present, but then how could she be for she is here, not there. A thought, though, and she could take her place aboard Lady Luck and sail to the edges of the ocean.

She smiles at the scene and the promise it holds, though she knows the cast are all but figments of her imagination and while their songs and deeds would amuse her for a while, the lack of someone real to share them with would leave her wanting more. Still, she enjoys their work though it be the work of her subconscious, her dreaming state, and lets herself sink into the sense of it and bide her time.

 

[Erlind]

The door eases open and I slip inside. Rushing winds trying to follow me inside, but I don't allow them and the door is closed behind me. The first thing I notice is an envelop resting on the floor. It is for me and the way it is addressed leaves only one person it could be from. I carefully slip a thumb under a gap in the seal and edge it open.

Before I remove the card I decide I want more light and a plain switch by the door is flipped. Wall lamps along the edges of the room all brighten and the room has light again. Then I remove the note. It is a simple message, but one I needed. I stop for a moment and realize it doesn't feel like she had been here. No. She was here, but she is different. I start to worry, but then decide that as long as she as alright it doesn't matter, though I wish I had been here to receive the not personally.

Finally I set the paper and envelop to the side on a short table by the door. I look up and realize I've been rude, though admittedly I'm not sure I would have acted differently if I had noticed her earlier. I do not mind at all that she has taken residence here, but this place is still mine. A heavy book consumes her lap, one that seems almost magical in nature and has clearly been a long time in the making. The book not the lap.

"Suzuha, how are you this evening? Sorry if I didn't pop in last night, but I simply was feeling up to anything. Work gave me a very long day and I spent all of last night simply recovering."

I make my way to a strangely comfortable victorian style green hard backed chair and pull it up near her own seat. I settle in.

 

[Suzuha]

She stirs as the lights come on around here. The sounds of the seaside had lulled her to a gentle snooze. She blinks the world back into focus and realising that she's no longer alone she closes the book, the lights and sounds and smells vanishing as the pages meet.

"Oh, hi. Sorry, seem to be here again. I'm okay. Long week here too, so I totally sympathise." She smiles encouragingly. "Maybe we'll get a little break, now?"

She notices the candles, still burning, and bites her lip in embarrassment, "Sorry about those! I, uhm, well it was dark. And I didn't want to start messing with your place. Y'know, any more than I am."

 

[Erlind]

I chuckle at her hasty explanation of candles I hadn't even noticed.

"You're fine. Candles were a good choice. I'm glad you didn't change the mood of the place while I was gone, but feel free to change some small aesthetic if it makes your stay more comfortable."

 

[Suzuha]

"Phew!" She looks relieved. "I'll be sure to clean up after myself too. Thank you for letting me stay!" Another smile, genuine, bright eyed.

"Quiet weekend for you?" she enquires politely.

 

[Erlind]

"To answer your question, yes, but my weekends aren't weekends. They kind of just happen whenever." I consider explaining further, but decide it isn't worth it. I stretch and lean back to find my very traditional chair apparently reclines. I decide its best to roll with it and prop my feet up on an ugly green ottoman.

 

[Suzuha]

She nods in understanding, even without more explanation, "I used to be in the same position, though that was quite a while ago. These days, it actually can feel like working most of the time regardless."

"Still, a break is good whenever it comes."

"You might be around tomorrow evening?" Another polite enquiry, with just a tiny twinge of tension held inside it.

 

[Erlind]

I smile at her question, not because its silly or even unreasonable, but because it was asked and something underneath it I can almost hear.

"I should be." I almost let it go at that and for a moment I do, letting a little bit of quiet into the air.

"Why?"

 

[Suzuha]

Half of her hoped he'd let her question go without comment. And the other half hoped for exactly this question. It's that very dichotomy that makes her sound more than a little bashful as she replies, "Well, I'd like to play with you again."

She pauses, "If you'd like?" She bites her lip.

 

[Erlind]

"Hm."

I sit up and my feet find the ground again. Elbows lean on knees as I lean further forward to stare hard at her. Shadows of sound and experience from that night flit through my mind as my gaze unwaveringly bores into her and I sit with stone expression. The fire crackles and wisps of howling wind threaten from outside, but otherwise I leave it quiet.

"Perhaps we will," I finally tell her as a wide devilish grin spreads across my face.

 

[Suzuha]

She curses herself silently for her approval seeking, but it keeps sneaking back in. And he lets her hang and wait for it. She feels that edge of discomfort as though she's done something wrong as he stares stonily at her, but she starts to feel the edge of the hunt within it. She actually feels relieved at his grin, though she ought to be considering how wicked that might turn out to be.

Still, she recovers well, wiping her forehead in a mock display -- though exactly how mock is debatable -- and she compresses a small smile for him, hint of apology behind it, "Though not tonight as I fear that sleep is once again demanding its due. But tomorrow, right? Same sort of time as last, perhaps?"

 

[Erlind]

Considering the person I had come to know before she asked to be bound by me, I can't help, but feel a little glee in her reactions.

"That will be fine. Sleep well, Suzuha."

 

[Suzuha]

She smiles at him more fully, though she's still not managed to let herself be enough of a tart to keep the edge of bashful at bay.

"Tomorrow night, then."

She hefts her book under her arm, "G'night, Erlind. You sleep well too."

She winks and fades into the background 'til she's no longer there at all.

 

[Suzuha]

He seemed to appreciate the opportunity to invite her in before, not to mention that it feels improper to turn up for a play-date and drop in like nothing special's going on. She hovers on the threshold of his reality, little more than a faintly sparkling outline stood just behind and to one side of her chair. Enough to announce her presence, but that alone.

Silently, she waits and tries not to fidget with her anticipation.