Sernova's Summer Retreat

[Seranova]

The soft moan from her lips had answered the question even before the nodding motion of her head. He smiled. He couldn't help it. This night was about her, and knowing she was enjoying it was all that he needed.

Of course, the soft moan had another side effect. His desire was starting to win the battle. When her hands dropped from her chest, he allowed his eyes the pleasure of traveling down to full appreciate the sight. Even through the slight ripple of the water, he could see. Of course, unimpeded vision mixed with the renewed desires made him realize that very soon... he would be poking her in the back. Ah, well. It was bound to happen eventually.

"The company of a truly beautiful woman in my bath... yes, I am enjoying myself."

A sly grin crossed his face as his eyes shifted to watch her face, complete with a playful glint deep within the brown hues. One arm remained crossed about her shoulders, but the other slowly slid along the side of her neck, fingertips tracing, until they reached the back. Once there, they started at the base of her hairline and grazed downwards slowly. His lips met the soft spot just below her ear and laid gentle kisses from that point and around it, one after another, in measured rhythmic manner. Like a metronome set at its lowest count, his lips met the side of neck.

The digits on the back of her neck strummed gently, then traced light, languid patterns across the skin, back and forth, up and down, no particular destination or goal. Her neck was a point of exploration for the moment, and his fingers and lips were taking their time to learn.

The hand that had remained studious across the front of her shoulders finally began to slip down slightly, until pads of fingers traced collarbone from one end to the other, then back again to reach the dip between. Then they slipped slowly south, till they passed between breasts and veered off lazily to trace under one of the fleshy orbs. Upon its circular completion from inside to out and back again, it repeated the motion to the other. There was no direct touching of either of his desires as of yet, simply tracing around them lazily to tease and explore. Finally, the fingers did stroke down from the top of one, and then circled the nub at its peak in the same gentle motion as before.

He very much had to resist the desire to roll the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Such things could wait.

His lips left her neck momentarily to seek out hers for a new kind of kiss; the kind they had shared in the living room. Almost immediately, tongue slipped out of his own mouth to seek hers out. All the while, his fingers continued their dances across the back of her ivory neck and bosom.

And now... he was poking her in the back.

 

[ShyMystica]

His voice caused her cheeks to blush deeper; her mind paused as she pondered his words. Beautiful...a word she would never use for herself. She breathed deeply as she focused on that one word; a word she didn’t really believe when others told her. But the tone of his voice; it subtly demanded that she wasn’t to question the word. So she didn’t.

By the time the thought completed her eyes finally recognised the sly grin upon his lips. She laughed softly to herself as an eyebrow rose to study him curiously. His playfulness intrigued her. If one were ever to know her on such a level, they would discover she harbored the same playfulness that he seemed to carry so easily. She, on the other hand, couldn’t show it so easily. Shyness really was debilitating. Again the thought left quickly; the touch of his hands upon her neck silencing the negativity in her head. She was grateful; stunned but grateful.

Her head fell to expose her neck; blonde strands of hair falling to cover her face as she silently invited his touch. Her breath caught a moment as his fingers caressed her hairline, her body tensing slightly as anxiety rose. He had found the cause of her pain; the slight lump below the skin’s surface so small yet it caused so much distress. It was the reason for her treatments, the physical manifestation of all the darkness that currently lurked within her. She didn’t wish to focus on that now. Yet it was a thought she couldn’t prevent. Even the slightest of touches drew her focus to it, and herself consciousness to grow. She knew better than to fight it; so she didn’t.

Instead she willed her focus to his touch instead of the anxiety; her mind following the trail of his fingers as he feathered the length of her neck. Eyes closed softly, she breathed deeply, his touch soothing and calming. The touch of his lips caused her breath to catch, small shivers raced over her skin in blissful torment. A small whimper was all she offered; teeth biting down upon her bottom lip as the rhythmic touch of his lips brought her focus to his actions...to him. He played her to perfection; the thought that she was nothing but an instrument to his needs caused her to blush slightly deeper. Not for the usual shy reasons, but because she was inwardly thrilled on the idea; her heart fluttering with excitement as the thought peaked.

A shy hand rose from his thigh to caress his cheek; not to force his actions, but simply to touch. Stubble softly pricked under her delicate fingertips before the smoothness of his neck teased her touch. Then she moved upward, tangling her fingers into the short length of his hair; fingers tensing slightly at his own caresses upon her collarbone. Again her breath caught; the anticipation of the direction of his hand making breathing a rather difficult chore.

The touch of his hand upon the flesh of her breast had her gasping softly. His slow tease was purposeful, she knew it. And she could feel her own shyness melting away as he continued to torment her. Was that his plan? It was a passing thought that shattered as his fingertip circled the peak of her breast. Another shiver, this time more intense than the last; her skin erupting into goosebumps before he trailed off and teased the other.

She had no logical thought at this point; her mind quickly becoming hazed as her own needs and pleasure directed her actions. Her chest arched forward slightly, gently pushing a hardened nub into the palm of his hand. Her lips opened to breathe deeply, only to be captured by his own. Yet unlike before, there was no build up, no tender testing for reactions. He simply claimed; his tongue diving into the warmth of her mouth. And she complied, her own tongue exploring his without the timid hesitation of before. His taste was addictive, she knew this from before. She was lost in him, and happily so.

The soft crush of their lips – his power cascaded over her causing a thrill to resonate deep within her core. Fingernails dug gently into the soft flesh of his thigh, her other hand falling to capture his jaw, pulling the kiss deeper still. Her reaction shocked her – a heated whimper lost to his kiss, her soft hips rolling gently into the caress of the water as the darkened flames of her need began to ignite within her. She was acting on instinct, primal and carnal. How he brought it out within her, she wouldn’t waste the time to ponder it. A slender, toned thigh brushed up against his, her thighs parting slightly as the water openly brushed her core. Teeth softly teased his bottom lip, her tongue quickly soothing the sting.

She was nothing but a reaction to his own need...his intent.

A passing, fleeting thought caught her attention for a split second; the question of his intent. Every man had intent; especially those so skilled in seduction. And he was skilled. She assumed he knew as much. Whatever his reasons; her reaction was crystal clear. It thrilled her deeply to be the prey of his intent. She wouldn’t admit that to him; it was a profound revelation to herself let alone vocalising it to him. Her actions would be enough for him to work it out on his own. She was here, in his home, in his bath, freely giving her mind and body to him in any way he desired. Those facts alone were powerful to her. Surely he’d see it too.

Then it hit her; a need so powerful it tore her lips from his own. She was breathless, her chest heaving slightly as her eyes opened; the emerald pools deep with restlessness. Four words heavy left her throbbing lips, heavy with the passion that now pulsed through her veins.

"What do you need?"

 

[Seranova]

She seemed to be responding to his actions so well. He was moderately surprised when she pressed breast to his palm, but he took the action in stride and shifted his palm to provide a bit of friction and stimulation to the hardened nub that pressed against it.

Even the kiss that he had initiated, she was accepting and returning the passion. He noted when her legs began to part slightly. He tried not to smile into the kiss when he did. It took all he had not to slide a hand down and directly stimulate the sex subtly offered beneath the water. It wasn't yet time for that. Only when she was ready, would he press onwards for more.

But then she surprised him.

What did he need? What didn't he need, was a better question. But there was something deeper mixed in to the question. It was definitely a loaded one.

There was the obvious physical need, of course. His need to have her, to make her feel like no one else has, to claim and mark her in the ways they both desired. These needs were skin deep, to excuse the pun. Of course, there were emotional needs that went under the surface that went along the same lines, but that was a whole different can of worms.

But how deep should he have made his reply? How far into the rabbit hole of needs was she willing to fall? There was the need to satisfy, the need to hold, the need to be held, the need to guide, the need to instruct, the need to be valued and value in return... The list went on and on. Each turn and plunge left even more avenues to be discovered. As he stared into her eyes, obviously pondering this weighted question, he could only think of one simple answer that would encompass all possible paths.

"You... I need you."

With that, the hand that had been playing at he back shifted to wrap around her and slide gradually up creamy thigh beneath the water. She had every opportunity to stop him if she chose. The palm on breast resumed its caressing, now varying pressure from the lightest of grazes to more firm squeezes, and his cheek nestled against hers.

They sat, her back against his chest, faces pressed together, his fingers rising along her thigh, before the digits finally reached their destination, and gently ran along her sex. In this moment, there was perfection. Soon, he would be taking her from the bath, to his bedroom, and showing her exactly what his needs were. At least, that was the loose plan as he saw it right now. But this moment... This moment was equally important in every way. This was the start of the connection, the start of physical and emotional desire. This was the spark. Fingers danced over the different kind of wetness found at the apex of thighs, tracing folds lightly and brushing against hooded nub. His cheek rubbed against hers.

All the while, he was aware of his stiff length pressing against her back.

 

[ShyMystica]

Time seemed to slow as he pondered her question. Her eyes never left his, her gaze burying deeper into his as she saw him debate the question inwardly. A moment of concern crossed her mind, her body tensing slightly as the silence built into a haze of discomfort. Then his words hit her, almost violently. She was left unsure of his meaning, questions upon questions filling the silence within her mind. But her body reacted differently; her core clenching at his revelation.

Outside the haze of her mind she felt him shuffle behind her before a hand fell to her lean thigh. Her eyes finally left his to watch the slow movement of his hand as it crept up silken, pale flesh. Time itself seemed to slow as her entire focus fell to his hand, her senses working in overdrive on the man behind her. Every deep, shuddering breath she took carried his scent. Every shiver of her body pushed her form back against his; his warm breath teasing the skin of her shoulder as she fought for composure. The taste of his lips still danced upon her tongue, her lips still tingling from the power of his kiss just moments before. Every touch upon her body seemed calculated and put into action to send her entire being into a whirlwind of sensations.

All the while her eyes never left the movement of his hand. She was mesmerised, enchanted, transfixed on the image of his hands upon her body; one kneading and caressing a breast while the other tormented her thigh. She had no thought capacity to understand why the sight affected her so greatly. All she could do was feel. The fingers lost in his hair tensed slowly, nails digging a little further into the flesh of his thigh as his fingers crept ever closer to her core. The thought registered in her mind that she could pull out now; walk straight out of here and hide behind her shyness for the rest of her life. But in all honesty, she had no desire for it. It was a thought born of a lifetime of habit. And she pushed it away as quickly as it came.

Then it hit her; the pleasure of his fingers finally reaching his target to stroke her nether lips. Her body shivered, fingers tightening in his hair, a soft gasp racing from trembling lips before she relaxed back against him. Her cheeks blushed deeply as the heat left her lightheaded, her eyes finally closing from the mesmerising sight. For the briefest of moments fear pulsed through her veins. It was an unwarranted fear, but fear none-the-less. She knew how wet she was, it was no surprise to her. But to him, was it a surprise? The heat of her core now pressed to his hand; the slickness of her arousal coating his fingers as he explored her folds. The fear of rejection in this time was strong. But again she willed it aside and focused on instinct. Her legs instinctively spread wider, feet lifting to settle on the outside of his legs, her knees widening to grant him access as he chose. Her upper body relaxed further against him; the fleeting thought of gratefulness that he was there to support her in this time raced through her mind. A firm warmth pressed into her back, drawing her attention away from her own pleasure as the realisation hit her.

He was just as aroused as she was.

The evidence was hard to ignore as it relentlessly pushed into the muscles of her back. It hadn’t crossed her mind that he would find this situation arousing. Simply because for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything she had done to be particularly arousing. He, on the other hand, played her to perfection. So her arousal was justified. But before she could focus on the thought, her body jolted and all thoughts violently slammed to a halt.

A pad of his finger finally brushed her swollen bundle of nerves; her body quickly humming to life, her core clenching then releasing as the bliss raced through her body. Her hand finally fell from his hair to cup his cheek; palm nestling into the stubble as fingers caressed his ear. Her own cheek nuzzled against his as she finally breathed once again. She wasn’t even aware that she had stopped breathing. When did that happen? She tried to think, but there were no thoughts. Only sensations of desires. She desired his touch; both in torment and pleasure. She desired his taste; not only of his lips but now of the hard length that continued to press into her. Her mouth watered as the desire pushed images into her mind. Visions of her upon knees in front of his standing form, the tip of his length teasing her lips before slipping further into the warm cavern of her lips; his hand tight in her hair as she pleasured him with fingers, lips, tongue and throat.

Another jolt, another brush of her clitoris and the visions paused, but the desire burned within her. But she wouldn’t act. No...she accepted his will over her. She accepted his control of her body in this moment. She wouldn’t push her desires any further than he gave. He was in control; she gave it to him. With that realisation her inner submissive seemed to beam with content; her heart fluttering as she accepting her fate at his hands...

Her fate of his own intent.

 

[Seranova]

Fingers continued to tease her sex, randomly moving from folds to button and back again, in an effort to feed her desires ever more. His other hand was busy exploring and learning every inch of her chest, every soft portion of flesh beneath his touch. But his body yearned for more.

She was ready.

The simple act of spreading her feet to the outside of his was a powerful one. It told him that she trusted him fully with her most intimate of places, as she opened like a rare, beautiful flower for his touch and exploration.The pad of a digit poised for a moment at her entrance, and he was very tempted to continue the exploration into her tight canal. But not yet. He wanted his first venture inside of her to be with something else. And the very fact that she was opening up to him so was indication that she was ready for just that.

"It's time to get out, dear Ami... I'm taking you to bed."

With those words, not a suggestion or fishing for desire, but rather simple truth of what was happening now, he kissed her neck softly and moved to stand behind her. For a few seconds, his proud length stood at the ready just beside her cheek, and he pondered getting warmed up here, but then shook his head and reached down to lift her from the water's embrace and into his own. He reached and collected the towel from the counter nearby, soft and perfect, and began gently dabbing it along her form. Complete drying wasn't the goal, just stop the dripping. Well... maybe not all the dripping.

Sure hands guided the towel up one leg and down the other, patting gently at each inch of wet skin until it no longer glistened with water. Hips and curve of rump were next, taking care to lavish her flesh with the soft dry towel. Then, he guided it smoothly up stomach and lower back, only to pay special attention to chest and then arms. Finally, he tossed the towel aside, grabbed his own, and quickly rubbed himself down.

As he was finishing drying his feet, his eyes came up to realize they were perfectly level with her hardened nipples, and he couldn't resist what happened next. He paused, stared for a moment, then leaned forward, placed his lips around one, and sucked with an audible pop. The grin on his face was one of absolute mischievous intent as he backed off and tossed the towel aside. As an afterthought, he scooped up the ribbons that his gift had come tied in before turning back to her.

"Let's go, little one."

Without giving her a chance to agree or disagree, he had her in his arms. On hand supported her back, the other in the crook of her legs and stretched along thigh, as her form rested in his arms completely. The trip out of the bathroom, slightly down the hall, and into the bedroom was made just as such.

Upon arrival, he gently set her back to her feet and lavished her face, neck, and chest with soft kisses and nibbles. They stood right next to the large bed as his hands and fingers trailed her back and ass slowly, further trying to explore and learn. But it was time for more. He stood straight once again, holding her against his body, looking down into her eyes for several moments. Then, a hand slipped up and into her hair, and his lips met her ear to whisper.

"You may taste me, my beautiful."

 

[ShyMystica]

Her body tensed as a finger pressed to her entrance. Inwardly she knew she wanted him to press forward; for the single digit to break through her entrance and explore her cavern in blissful torment. But he didn’t. Instead he spoke, and with a kiss of her neck he stood; her torso slipping back slightly as her support moved, before the muscles of her back held her in place. For the briefest moments she was split in two; one part of being questioning the sudden shift, her body quickly missing the closeness that had just simply vanished. The other part heard his words and realised that this was simply the beginning. The first part was born of a negativity that always reared its head, no matter the circumstance. It was fears of rejection, abandonment and self consciousness. Silly things really. She knew better than to let such fears rule her mind.

So she breathed deeply; in and out, his scent more powerful than the last time she breathed deeply. It was a scent of his desire, his sexual needs for the moment. A scent that all men carried; and most women would react to. She was no exception. Her body reacting without thought. She could feel the heat of his length radiate next to her cheek. And it took all her strength not to turn her head and look at the source. Instead her eyes closed, and she continued to breathe. Then arms encased her, pulling her to stand, ankles still submerged in the warm water. Her form nuzzled back against him for the brief moment their embrace existed.

More movement behind her then a towel fluttered busily over her skin. Her eyes open and watching him with interest. He didn’t have to do such things. Drying herself was well within her capabilities. But he seemed determined; his brow furrowed as he completed the task. It was interesting; the meaning behind the gesture continuing to allude her. So she simply watched as the towel was guided over her form, her body twisting to aid his efforts. She did note the extra attention of her breasts. She smiled with a slight shake of her head. As he moved his attention to his own body, she stepped from the tub, standing upon the flush bathmat as her eyes moved to scan the lavish room once again. It needed a painting. Yes, maybe a series of small ones. White; something plain to stand out from the array of colour.

The thought didn’t last long; a gasp of surprise leaving her lips as a moist warmth surrounded a nipple. The echo of the pop vibrated within the room for a few split seconds, her eyes drawn to the mischievous grin that now lit his face. It would seem he was a breast man. Or a giant tease. Both were highly possible. She smiled in return, her breast still tingling from the fleeting grasp of lips, teeth and tongue; her eyes watching him as he picked up the ribbons from his gift. Her head tilted in curiosity, but there was no time for dwelling on the possibilities; her body quickly rising from the floor to rest across his arms.

Her own arms flung around his neck; tensing as the fear of being lifted without warning rose within her. But it wasn’t long until she relaxed; legs swinging idly as she enjoyed the free ride. Despite her firm stance on being a strong, independent woman; she was also fond of such chivalrous gestures. So she basked in the guilty pleasure while it lasted; a shy little grin upon her lips as she was carried through to his room.

Feet finally touched the floor; as do lips, teeth and hands upon her body. Her eyes closed at the sudden lavish of affection; her cheek nuzzling into his fleeting touches before they burst into a deep blush. Her body warmed instantly at his touches; his hand within her hair, his voice so seductive, the warmth of breath across neck and ear...it caused her bottom lip to tremble with excitement. Despite the deepening of her blush at his last words, the rest pulled her focus.

Taste...taste.

An invitation given, an open one at that. So many things to taste; lips, skin, the hardness that continued to press into her hip. The last is what she knew he was inclining towards. She could see it in his eyes; the darkened orbs swirling with heat as his hand tensed gently within her hair. But there was one thing she needed to do first. Something for her. Something her shyness had forced her to avoid. Something she would remedy now.

With a warm kiss to the corner of his lips, she stepped away from his embrace; her arms slowly unwrapping from around his neck as fingertips glided down his form. She needed to see the man that she was about to kneel before. Even in this moment; a moment with no focus upon the future...the act she was about to perform was one powerful enough for her to question if he was worthy. Sea-green eyes studied him intently; eyes locked on his as she watched his reaction to her pulling away. A hand remained upon the flesh of his stomach; a gesture to calm any fears that he may hold that she would run. But simply that she needed this time to assess. She wouldn’t decide on sexual arousal. She would decide on logic. They both deserved it.

Once she was satisfied with what she found within his gaze, she broke it to take in the rest of him. Her hand trailed up his body as eyes fell to where she touched; damp skin, stubble of his jaw, a pulse at his neck before fingertips fluttered across the bones of his collar. For a moment her eyes darted up to his, a small smile offered as her gaze lowered once more to trail behind her hand. Lean muscles of his chest, a nipple passing under palm as a heartbeat fluttered under fingertips. Another small smile as fingertips dug softly into the beat found, her touch lingering as his heartbeat radiated into her hand. Then she moved; a step to his side before she stood behind him, her hand trailing under his arm to stroke his back. Finally free from his watchful eyes, her gaze loosened to take in the entire sight of his form; dark hair trimmed short, strong shoulders, lean muscles of his back slimming into a manly waist and behind, strong, lean thighs and bare feet. She held no shame in what she was doing. The entire time her hand explored with her eyes, her mind calculating the man within the body she was now observing.

He had helped her a lot the past few weeks. She still didn’t understand why, she concluded that she never would. But she was grateful for his patience, kindness, laughter...even his subconscious manipulations to get her to open up. The time and effort wasn’t unnoticed. She simply didn’t know how to thank him. She wasn’t good with saying thank you. It never seemed enough. It was a selfish need of hers to express...one that often, despite her best attempts, remained not good enough. There was a connection she wouldn’t, nor couldn’t, deny. It was strong in this moment. With that passing thought she stepped before him once again; her hand trailing down his arm before grasping his hand softly.

She had made her decision; but her facial features gave no inclination. But she was ready. More than ready. She had made the choice to trust him before she even arrived. She was nervous, but ready. She just needed that moment of clarity from the haze of her sexual arousal to make sure. She stood, eyes on his, thoughts slowing within her mind, her hand grasping his to squeeze gently. Seconds passed, tortuously so. Then she lowered; her eyes falling down his body as she settled upon knees and heels at his feet, palms resting upon her thighs. Finally her eyes fell upon his length, a subconscious quickening of her heart, cheeks blushing deeper as the tip of her tongue moistened her lips.

Taste...

The tone of his voice rang in her mind again. But she wouldn’t, not yet. It wasn’t her move to make. Her gift in this moment was his pleasure. He would be the one to take the first push into her inviting lips. Despite her desire to simple take his length deeply within the warm cavern of her lips. She wouldn’t act. That was her gift. Her eyes found his again. She didn’t look away. She was aware that in most situations, a submissive lowered their gaze as a sign of respect. She was different. It was far too easy for her to look away; her shyness the main cause. Looking away meant she was hiding. And she wouldn’t hide from him. What was difficult was keeping a gaze. That is where her respect showed. And despite her shyness pulling her to look away, she didn’t.

Instead her head tilted back, lips opening slowly as her eyes silently invited him to take what he wished. Once he took that step, she would divulge in her guilty pleasure of his length, if he wished it. But for now, she waited; kneeling at his feet; her glistening, plump, kiss-reddened lips an open invitation.

 

[Seranova]

The look he gave her was a curious one when she stepped back a pace. He knew she wasn't leaving, though. Something about her body language, or the hand placed on his stomach, told him as much. Then what was she doing? It took him several moments to figure anything out, until he realized that her eyes had started to study his form. He was being appraised, on some level or another. Interesting... he couldn't remember ever having been studied like this before.

He remained stock still when she circled behind him. Aside from his chin dipping slightly as he turned his head to the side just enough to keep her in his peripheral, and a brow raising curiously, he didn't move. This was her time to get acquainted with the view, and he wouldn't stop that.

Finally, she moved before him again, and slowly slipped to her knees at his feet.

The look she was giving told him that she approved. It also told him that while she was ready, the actual act of tasting would have to be initiated by him. His head tilted to the side slightly and a soft smile began stretching at his lips. It was a gift. She was offering her mouth for his pleasure. And who was he to refuse such a beautiful gift, especially after having just granted her permission to do just that?

His hand came up to reach her cheek, and he stroked it softly for a moment. His eyes stared into hers, studying and watching carefully. Her lips were soft, glistening, and very inviting... but he could never pass up an opportunity to tease. He had given her permission, and she had turned it into his choice. His choice would almost always be to tease before granting anything.

The hand slipped from cheek and grasped at hair on the top of her head firmly. With a grip holding her in place, he slowly rolled his hips forward until the tip of his length brushed her chin. Then, he took the base in his free hand and began lightly caressing her face with his manhood. The firm, heated flesh glided along her cheeks, across lips, over jawline, and back to take a slightly different route. No words were spoken. His eyes never left hers. The smile never left his face.

Finally, after several moments allowed for the familiarity of her face, he glanced down at her lips to study for a short time. So soft, so beautiful, they were.

"Ami..."

He breathed deeply and slid the head of member forward to rest between inviting lips, and finally enter warm inviting of mouth. Hand gripped hair as before, but did not impede movement. It was simply there as a reminder.

 

[ShyMystica]

Her eyes closed at the touch of his hand; her cheek pressing against his palm as she enjoyed the tender caress. She was a woman who enjoyed the pleasures found in the simple touches. Often they were overlooked; deemed unnecessary or pointless in favour of rougher play. She knew different, she felt different. A simple touch, one such as this, carried a meaning a thousand words couldn’t create. So she absorbed it, cherished it while it lasted.

Then it changed; his hand slipping from cheek to hair, his fist curling around golden strands and holding her in place. Her emerald eyes opened just as his length pressed to her chin. She breathed deep, his scent strong. It took all her will power not to tilt her head to slip the pulsing tip into her lips. Not that his grip would allow it, but her battle for willpower had begun. His teasings didn’t help the battle; in fact it only fuelled it. Within a blink her gaze changed subtly; lust, passion, desire, need, arousal all swirling behind orbs that now seemed to glow. Her mouth watered, her heart pounded, her hands trembled as they rested upon her thighs. Every instinct in her being wanted to taste. But she didn’t falter. No, she let him tease as he pleased; his silken head smooth and hot as it caressed her features to leave her skin tingling in his wake.

Inwardly she questioned the smile he now wore. Was it one of teasings? One of sinful pride for having her in this position; down on knees, his cock taunting her so wickedly? That wouldn’t surprise her. But it was warm, gentle, almost endearing. For the second time she thought how much she liked his smile.

It was a short lived thought, the sound of her little nickname bringing all thought to an instant halt. Her breasts heaved slightly as breath caught a moment, her cheeks blushing deeper, her bottom lip quivering with anticipation of what she knew was coming. Was it the name that had the effect on her? Or the breathless, heated whisper in which he spoke it? She didn’t know, perhaps both. Then his taste was pressed against lips and tongue; a soft moan floating from open lips before he pushed further.

Gods he was delectable; sweet, earthy, manly. She pushed forward, lips slipping down his shaft to a point she was comfortable she wouldn’t gag. Eyes remained on his as she suckled softly, tongue massaging in waves beneath his length as lips tightened around his flesh. Soft, delicate fingers wrapped around his base, allowing his own hand to move if he wished; her head finally moving back to slip his length clean from her lips, a small strand of saliva linking his pulsing head to her glistening lips. She breathed deeply, a shy smile upon her lips as she silently thanked him within her gaze. Then her lips lowered once more to place soft kisses up his length, from base to tip; a slow, sensual tease before engulfing his head hungrily. From the fire that ebbed within his own dark gaze, he was far beyond the mood for teasings. And she was happy to oblige in her own guilty pleasure of his length.

Her golden crown of hair bobbed as lips slid smoothly up and down his length; tongue swirling and massaging with each pass over his pulsing tip. Random negative thoughts slipped into her mind...was he pleased? Was she good enough? Was this what he wanted? They all swirled in her mind then shattered at the realisation that the thoughts didn’t matter. They were a force of habit, one she intended to break. The entire process lasted no longer than a few heartbeats; her movements still steady upon his length as it slipped from the heated moist cavern of her mouth. Her hand slid in unison, pumping the slippery hardened flesh before lips devoured again.

Air, she needed air.

With an audible pop his manhood slipped from her lips; her hand steadily pumping as she gulped down air. Her eyes studied him, twinkling in her own delight. She knew her free-reign upon him wouldn’t last much longer. Soon his dominant hand would come into play and he would take what he wished with gentle authority. She was thrilled at the knowledge; her own core fluttering excitedly as his hand upon her hair served as a reminder of his will. Then it hit her, yet another realisation. She needed his control, and needed it now.

“Please?”

It was a whispered plea; her tone husky with lust. It surprised her to hear her own voice in such a way. But she knew what she needed in this moment. She needed his guidance now. She no longer cared to divulge in her own pleasure. She wanted his. Needed his. Needed his control. Her eyes glimmered with the unspoken need. She wasn't used to stating things so bluntly. With a nervous gulp she finally put to voice a need none had heard before...

“...take my lips. Take my mouth. Take me as you wish.”

 

[Seranova]

Lips.

He sighs in pleasure as lips find his length and first begin to tease with soft kisses, then take to the task of engulfing him with warmth and wetness. Her hand moves in tandem, to create an experience nothing short of satisfying, as his own fist flexes in her hair as encouragement. His eyes gaze down at her, watching in near fascination as the movements match the sensations, and his own manhood disappears repeatedly into her inviting warmth. There was no getting used to that sight, or finding it any less fulfilling than ever before. Each time is exactly like the first, and so full of wonder and appreciation.

But his thoughts are snapped with a single word; the word that rolls from her tongue. He stares curiously for a moment, wondering to which need this plea was addressing. Does she want to be taken in a different way? Does she want to be touched more? Does she need something else entirely?

His questions are answered a moment later, when she makes the confession and request that rarely ever fell from her lips. A soft smile touches his own face, while his free hand rests on her cheek gently.

The touch is enjoyed for a few moments, before the hand slides back to join the other in a death grip of her hair, and he makes one simply, quietly uttered statement.

"Tap on my thigh when you need air, my beautiful, corrupted angel..."

A second of time is taken to make sure she understands, and then tip of member lines up to her lips again, slips inside, and slides deep into her mouth. The first stroke is gentle, slow, testing, but each one following grows increasingly more quick and fervent. Soon after beginning, his hands are pulling her head towards him while his hips push forward with desire and need.

He groans slightly each time he feels the sensitive head brush against resistance of throat, but he is trying to be careful not to push too far and activate her gag reflex. His hands guide firmly and quickly as his own pleasure grows, and a soft moan passes from his mouth. It is heaven. To take such and offer as his own, to lay claim upon her mouth as he will soon upon the rest of her... This is paradise. He watches carefully for any sign of her need for air, and pays close attention to making sure he doesn't miss a tap to his thigh, should it come.

But his own pleasure rapidly grows. A sudden gasp, and a fervent whisper.

"Oh, fuck... such a dirty girl..."

 

[ShyMystica]

Surrender.

There was nothing so beautiful, so astonishing, so peaceful as that of surrender...complete surrender. Not only to him, not only to his pleasure...but complete surrender to herself, to her needs, to the woman that she was in the deepest parts of her soul.

As his hand caressed the curve of her cheek, the spark of connection grew stronger. A connection of respect, adoration, gentle affection and so many other things she simply had no words for. It caused her heart to flutter, her head tilting into the caress with a pleasured, relaxed sigh. Then the surrender ignited within her; his hand slipping from cheek to hair to grab fistfuls of golden locks. A shiver of excitement raced through her entire being as his words gave her a moment to pause.

"Tap on my thigh when you need air, my beautiful, corrupted angel..."

Those words...had he any clue the effect they had on her? On their own they served little meaning to her. In fact, if the truth were to be told, she would never associate herself with any of them in conjunction to herself. But together, and from his lips, it brought her entire world to a standstill. It was more than a playful nickname; so much more than what he may ever intend. To her they were the truth of their relationship in this moment; each word carrying a memory so intense it not only left her speechless, but also breathless, weak-kneed and squirming with desire. Her heart fluttered, her breath catching a moment as she focused on the other words...his direction.

A nod was all she offered of her understanding...it would be enough. A slight tilt of her head, her lips opening and his head brushed passed lips and tongue to enter into the heated cavern of her mouth. Hallow cheeks shrunk to envelope his firm member; tongue lifting and falling to caress the underside of his shaft in a sensual wave of pleasure. Slick lips slip upon his length as the gentle pull and tug of her hair guided her up and down, up and down, up and down. The slight sting at her hair from his firm, controlling grip, the thrusts forward of his hips that forced his pulsing head to push against the back of her throat...her complete lack of control...

Complete surrender...

Heaven, perfection, completion...

And she couldn’t ever get enough.

Emerald eyes studied him, intent on every expression that passed over his face. She recognised the pleasure as it washed through his gaze; his subsequent increase in speed thrilling her and encouraging her. Lips latched tighter, moans slipping more frequently with each push of his pulsating tip against her throat. His own moaning ringing blissfully in her mind, her core clenching tightly from the sound. She would never admit it, but she was addicted to his voice, his sounds, his tones. Now was no different, except perhaps the effects magnetised by the simple fact it came from pleasure he was taking from her willing body.

‘Yes...’ she thought, the word repeating in her mind as she inwardly savoured this moment. A heated gasp, a husky whisper and her hunger shattered all remaining resolve.

"Oh, fuck... such a dirty girl..."

Gods...more words...more of those words. Words no other could ever say to her. They were his words; his right in this moment to claim the mouth he was now fucking for his own pleasure. Words that only fuelled the relentless hunger now raging within her. She needed his pleasure...needed his mark...needed him to claim this part of her with his hot streams of seed. She could feel the heavy sacks slap against the underside of her chin with relentless precision. Each powerful thrust forward and he constantly slammed into the back of her throat. Her gag reflex quivered uncomfortably, causing her to whimper. She needed air; the short pants of breath through nostrils not enough to satisfy her hungry lungs. But she didn’t care. Her need was too great. Trembling hands rose from her thighs, grazing over his own to take a firm hold of his hips. Her eyes, now deep, expressive, glistening emerald pools of lustful hunger, begged, pleaded, prayed that he knew her unspoken need. Prayed that he would satisfy it without further thought. A growl born of hunger, born of need, and her mouth vibrated around him.

How much longer would he make her wait? Would he even desire to claim, to mark, to declare these hungry lips as his? The truth was that despite this need, she would take whatever he chose to give her. Hope remained that he would satisfy this need. But that risk was her gift...

Complete, pure surrender...

 

[Seranova]

((Due to circumstances and extended absences, the above scene has been placed on hold indefinitely.))

-----------------------------------------------​

A transition...

He walks down the stairs of his Retreat, mind turning as he remembers that night fondly. So much had changed, and despite the small bit of downs and troubles, it had all changed for the better. They were stronger for it.

Clad in jeans and a jade green button-up, he enters the kitchen and begins preparing himself a simple meal: angel hair pasta with a tangy meat sauce. The water rolls and boils on the gas stove-top, as the sauce simmers with lid in place. The metal cover is lifted and sauce stirred slowly as his mind wanders to thoughts of past and present. Then lid is replaced and he pulls the pasta out of a container, breaks a handful in half, and drops it into the boiling water. All that was left was to wait. And think.

He was expecting a visitor. He wasn't sure exactly when, but soon. Someone he hadn't seen much of in the past few months. It would be nice to catch up. A smile tugs at his lips as green eyes shine; the evidence of plots and ideas turning in his mind.

Pasta is stirred carefully, until tender enough, and the pot gingerly removed from stove to be slowly drained into the colander and hot water run over it. He turns away to set the stove burners to off, then returns to dip strong hands into the pasta and mix manually. Thoughts of the same hands grasping hair cause another smile to invade his features.

Slices of Italian bread are toasted to a crispy golden color, and butter spread upon them. Crushed garlic is placed on a side dish, with a spreading knife lain beside. Shredded Parmesan cheese is placed next to the garlic dish. That seems to be everything.

Before long, the table is set, an extra plate set across from his. Just in case.

There he sits for several moments of silence. His mind turns in these moments, wondering if she would show tonight, or if he would actually be dining alone. The invitation had been set for open. It was her decision when and how she arrived.

 

[Britwitch]

The house was impressive, not imposing but impressive. It looked homely, despite it's size and the gardens looked gorgeous. Heels crunched on the gravel of the driveway as she approached, teeth caught slightly on lower lip as her feet carried her steadily closer to the door. Wide blue eyes carefully lined with some liner and mascara take in the surroundings.

Upon reaching it she paused. Her heart racing a little inside her chest, her cheeks suddenly flushed. Excitement and anxiety racing around inside her core as she stood and tried to collect herself. She smoothed the bodice of the dress that skimmed her curves, glancing down to make sure the black pumps that encased her feet hadn't picked up too much dust on the walk over. In her hand is a simple black clutch and besides a black ribbon tied around her neck, she was wearing no jewellery. The ribbon was meant for her hair, but it kept coming loose around the soft curls and so, loathed to lose the velvet fabric, she had tied it around her neck as a choker of sorts. Thinking it matched the dress and, her mind added wickedly, she thought he might like it.

She hadn't seem him, not properly, for a long time. The invitation had been a slight surprise but welcome, very welcome. So welcome in face that as soon as she'd read it she'd already started mentally picked out her outfit for her visit.

Licking lips decorated with a thin layer of a soft pink gloss, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

 

[Seranova]

The first bite hovers on fork poised in front of his mouth for a few moments as his mind registers the knock on the door. A slow smile spreads on his face once again while he places the fork and pasta back where it originated. With that, he stands and places the cloth napkin on the table next to his plate, and makes his way towards the door.

Plans already forming... ideas springing and flying by at impossible speeds with each footstep. He had to admit that he was excited. It had been far too long, after all. The front door could not come into view fast enough, though his motions remain as casual as ever. Finally, his hand reaches and turns the knob, and the great door slowly opens. The sight that meets his eyes causes a new set of plans and ideas to race through his brain in the span of the few seconds it takes to visually travel the height of her form, toe to hair, taking in every feature.

Heels, calves, thighs, dress, cleavage, arms, shoulders, choker, neck, face, hair... It was a sight to behold. He doesn't even try to hide his appreciative journey up her body, or the hungry smile it produces. He holds out his hand and places it on her elbow to guide as he speaks softly.

"Come on in, little witch... I have missed you."

The voice carries a softness that masks the underlying predatory tones. He was certainly planning on reminding her of her extended absence from his presence in the ways only he could...

He leads the way through the kitchen and into the dining room, where table is set for two. Upon arrival, he serves up a portion of pasta and sauce, then moves the toasted bread and butter close enough to her plate that she would be able to partake. His hands guide her chair back, and he waits for her to take her seat, before leaning down and brushing his lips to her ear with a whisper.

"It seemed only fitting, since our first encounter began with an exploration of food..."

 

[Britwitch]

She smiles almost shyly as his eyes make no attempt to hide their route up over her form, fingers curling tighter around the clutch in her hand as his eyes briefly make contact with hers.

"I've missed you too..."

The words are simple but all she needs to say. His hand is warm on her elbow as he leads her through the house. She feels she should be taking in the surroundings, appreciating the effort that has clearly gone into furnishing the rooms they walk through but she can't. She can only look up at him every now and then, reminding herself of the difference in their heights, of the breadth of his shoulders, of the size and strength of his hands.

The food smells good, really good and she smiles appreciatively as a plateful is prepared for her. She takes her seat with a quiet 'Thank you' before her voice comes to a slightly halting stop. His breath is warm and tempting against her ear and for a few long seconds she's not sure what to do. Instinct eventually takes over and she turns her head so that their faces are a fraction of an inch apart. Blue eyes meeting green.

"Sounds perfectly appropriate to me..."

She murmurs, her tone slightly huskier than it was at the front door. She lowers her eyes momentarily before pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek.

"We should probably eat this while it's still hot...seems a shame to waste the effort you put into it..."

She watches him return to his seat and starts to eat. The pasta is cooked perfectly and the sauce tingles pleasantly on her tongue. She sips her drink between mouthfuls, eyes seeking his face over the rim every now and then, almost as if trying to make sure this wasn't some elaborate day dream. That she really was here. With him.

 

[Seranova]

He nods simply in response to her proposal about eating, and takes his own seat to begin. But his eyes never leave hers while he slowly partakes of the pasta, nor do they shift when he reaches for wine and takes a sip.

"I'm glad you could make it tonight... I was worried you wouldn't."

His voice was soft, green eyes watching her carefully for any hint at the thoughts behind her response. Another few bites are taken as he muses. Finally, his gaze slowly lowers to the ribbon around her neck, and a smirk tugs at his lips. Interesting choice, one that had not gone unnoticed. He wonders what reaction she was seeking when she chose it. Of course, knowing her as he does, he can fairly well guess. But he doesn't say anything about it, better to file it away for use later. Instead, his eyes sink lower, past collarbone, soft, freckled skin, to gaze openly at depths of cleavage. Another sorely missed sight.

"I don't know how you expect me to continue eating with such a tempting offer for more... succulent delights."

He chuckles softly as his eyes are brought back up to hers. This was the gaze he so enjoyed using on her. The gaze that spoke volumes, that told of hints, mysteries, and plans for the little witch, that if she unraveled, would make her blush so much that the tops of those breasts would even be red.

Plans that she will soon be learning of firsthand...

 

[Britwitch]

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world..."

There is an earnest quality to her voice that wasn't entirely intentional but nonetheless unpreventable. The words were true. She, and he, knew she would have come whenever he sent word to her.

She could see him watching her, examining her. It made her want to squirm in her seat, to blush and giggle, but she tried to keep those urges in check.

"I don't know how you expect me to continue eating with such a tempting offer for more... succulent delights."

There it was. That look. His eyes rose from a not so mysterious location and her reaction was immediate. Her cheeks flushed pink and lips curved into a shy smile. She had to look away. Those eyes, with their knowing almost wicked gaze were drawing her in, like they always did. Tempting her with glimpses of the ideas that rested behind them. Ideas for her.

"Well, I am sorry to distract you from eating...but I am glad that the distraction is not altogether unpleasant..."

She shifted in her seat slightly, straightening her back a little and unconsciously pushing her chest out a little. Although it might not have been all that unconscious a decision.

"...and it is your meal and your home...I am but a guest...when the meal moves onto sweeter courses is entirely your choice..."

 

[Seranova]

The smile that stretches his lips is a knowing one. It certainly was his home, and the meal prepared by his hands. He finishes the last few bites and takes another sip of wine to wash it down, eyes never leaving one part of her form or another. Eyes, hair, cheeks, throat, cleavage; all subject to his gaze in some way. One thing was for sure: despite having just eaten, there was an appetite growing in his eyes.

Slowly, he rises to his feet and places the silk napkin next to empty plate. It seemed she had just about finished as well. Circling around slowly, eyes never leaving her, as a predator stalking his prey, his fingertips drag along the polished wood lightly. No words yet, as he slips behind her and slides fingertips down the back of her neck, along shoulders, and then down the front of her body. But before reaching rise of breast, he stops and caresses his way back up again. One hand settles on the makeshift collar around her neck while the other brushes hair away from an ear, to be replaced by his lips. The whisper that follows is smooth and quiet.

"What sweeter courses have you to offer me in my home, little witch? Are you hoping I sample a nibble or two? Or maybe..."

Fingers tighten around choker-clad throat.

"...You're hoping I simply devour the entire offering."

Teeth close around an ear, as the hand not around her throat slide fully down into the top of dress to squeeze a breast possessively.

"Do you remember what you are to me, little witch? Do you remember your role?"

Nails dig into the breast-flesh, clamping tighter before finally releasing and hand withdrawing. With fingers still wrapped around her throat, he breathes in her scent for a few moments, then reaches slowly... to pick up her plate and remove it from the table.

"You're done with this, right?"

 

[Britwitch]

She feels her stomach tighten as he rises from his seat, trying not to watch too obviously but unable to look anywhere else. Carefully she laid down her cutlery and dabbed at her lips with the napkin. Just as she was about to place the fine cloth back upon the table he reached her.

There is a muted gasp when, after moving behind her, she feels fingers trail down the back of her neck. Hairs standing up all over her body, muscles tensing while others simultaneously relax. She breathes in deeper as hands move down over her front only to halt and make their way back up. A slight but steady pressure rests over the ribbon around her throat, causing her to swallow a little anxiously, followed by a tiny tremor as her hair is moved and another warm whisper dances over her ear.

"What sweeter courses have you to offer me in my home, little witch? Are you hoping I sample a nibble or two? Or maybe..."

There is no time to even think of replying before the fingers rest on her neck tighten and hold firmly. The pressure is constant, not threatening more of a...reminder...

"...You're hoping I simply devour the entire offering."

The groan that leaves her lips is quiet but she knows he hears it. Tingles shoot down her spine from the bite and the feeling of his hand pushing easily beneath her dress to claim a breast. Cheeks pink a little as nipple begins to instantly harden against his palm.

"Do you remember what you are to me, little witch? Do you remember your role?"

There is a wince, an intake of breath as nails dig into tender flesh. The voice, when it speaks, is trembling ever so slightly and barely above a whisper.

"Of course I do...how could I forget? Although, I have to admit, I wondered if you still thought of me that way...after all this time..."

Eye lids flutter closed for a moment as she hears and feels him taking a deep breath in. She nods as his hand moves towards her plate.

"That was delicious, thank you...and as for dessert, well, I think that would depend on your tastes and appetites right now..."

 

[Seranova]

Her reactions to his game of teasing are about what he had expected and hoped they would be. There was one statement that he had brushed past, however, that he now begins to mull over in his mind as the dishes are carried back to the kitchen.

"Did you think I had given you up, little witch?"

The question is called over his shoulder as the pair of dishes are deposited in the sink to be washed later. His feet carry him back to the dining room slowly, behind his prey. There was a desire to once again have his hands on her body, and since he figured she shared that desire, he decided to do just that.

Fingertips rise up bare back and settle at the base of her skull, before wrapping a handful of her hair in his grip and pulling roughly in effort to pull her head backward so that he can look into her eyes from above. Of course, from this position and angle, he cannot help but take a long gaze into displayed cleavage. A wicked smile tugs his lips.

"Then what are you, little witch? Tell me your role."

 

[Britwitch]

"Did you think I had given you up, little witch?"

She's a little relieved that he is looking away as he asks so he can't see the slightly giddy, happy, smile that flickers across her face. She had thought that as there had been so much time that...perhaps...he might have. But somewhere deep inside she had hoped, so so much, that he hadn't.

"No, not really, I suppose..."

Hair is pulled and body reacts with embarassing speed. A thrill shoots down her spine, racing deep inside her core, causing the apex between her thighs to twitch momentarily. Fingers curl around the end of the armrests of the dining chair.
Her lips are parted, eyes wide, as she looks up at him.

"Then what are you, little witch? Tell me your role."

"Yours."

The response comes out before she can stop it, not that she really would have wanted to.

"I'm whatever you want me to be...will play whatever role you choose for me. Innocent and naive, or needy and hungry...and always, always, grateful..."

Tongue moves to wet rounded lips before adding the words she knows he is waiting to hear.

"I'm your...fucktoy..."

 

[Seranova]

Eyes narrow and smirk morphs into sneer as his fingers tighten in her hair, pulling even further back to arch her body and enjoy the view openly. Her initial response had caught him slightly by surprise, but a slight head tilt was the only sign of such. To be honest, he wasn't expecting the first two words out of her mouth to be so blunt. But the rest... it was exactly what he had in mind.

"That is correct, little witch... the others? They simply borrow you. Don't they? But you certainly have been borrowed quite a bit..."

He leans down to mere inches from her face and stares directly into her eyes.

"I do hope they haven't borrowed you too much. I'd hate to think that those holes weren't kept nice and tight for me. After all, what use do I have for a fucktoy that can't pleasure my cock?"

Fingers trace across throat and ribbon to travel towards the back, aiming for the closure that holds dress in place. As his words continue, the fingers deftly and unceremoniously release the closure, and straps fall away uselessly.

"While I can certainly appreciate the cute little collar you have chosen, I'm frankly not even sure why you bothered wearing clothes for me, fucktoy. Especially since I know exactly what you have wanted since the moment I invited you to my home."

As hair is pulled tighter, a hand slides down chest, under the material of dress, and moves it until breasts are fully exposed. One of the supple orbs is taken in palm and massaged with a strange gentleness, with palm barely rubbing against sensitive nub at peak. Then it pulls away, rears back, and slaps the soft flesh hard. In the wake of the strike, the hand begins to caress once more. His hopes were to confuse and stimulate the nerves of the naturally more receptive skin of her chest.

"After all... We have a lot of making up to do, since you have been gone for so long..."

Hidden within the statement is another veiled promise of plans for her. Plans that would make up for extended absences. Plans that would remind her of her place, and make sure it was instilled in her very being.

 

[Britwitch]

Another pull to her hair and her back arches further, pushing her generous chest out even more proudly. He speaks of others and her cheeks glow a little brighter and she nods, she had been 'borrowed' since they were last together.
As he leans closer her breath catches in her throat, cheeks glowing brighter still as he speaks of what is his. Lips move as if to reply but falter, he knows the answers to his questions. They are barely questions at all, more statements to remind her of the situation. Of her position.

As his fingers move over her throat she feels herself fighting against the urge to tremble. The gentle pressure around the back of her neck from the dress' straps tightens for a second and then vanishes completely. Then with the smooth confidence that radiates from him, he pushes the dress down, revealing the bare breasts beneath. She wonders briefly what his reaction will be when he discovers that other than her heels and collar, she is naked beneath the dress.

She sighs as he massages a breast almost tenderly, back arching a little more, as if trying to push her breast into his hand. Then a yelp. Sensitive flesh stings with the slap before the stroking sensation returns, helping to ease the sting but not remove it. Never to remove it.

"After all... We have a lot of making up to do, since you have been gone for so long..."

"We do..."

She murmurs, voice trembling slightly, tone quiet and soft. Throughout all that has happened her hands have barely moved from the arms of the chair. She could have reached up to pull his hand from her hair, to shield her breast from his palm. But she won't. He knows it and she knows it.
They both know why he asked her to come and they both know why she came.
It is just a matter of time before the unspoken promises come to pass.

 

[Seranova]

They do indeed both know that she will take whatever he has to give, and do so willingly. And he is going to have some fun with that fact, as he always does. A smile touches his lips and another slap touches her breast. Fingers graze the flesh once again, and his voice lowers.

"You have been gone too long, fucktoy. I will have to make sure you don't disappear from my use like that again."

His hands leave her body completely, and he steps away.

"Leave the dress here. You won't be going home with it, little witch. Come."

His fingers beckon, and he watches for a moment to see if she will comply straight away or linger, then he turns and walks toward the stairs. Up the steps, past the second floor, onto the third. There, he watches down the stairs for her arrival.

The third floor of his home; this single room is designed to cater to the wishes of its user and mold itself to be whatever needed or desired. For now, it is a lavish dungeon. Marbled floors, cold, hard, unforgiving, yet beautiful, support the various devices crafted of wood and steel, with red velvet accents and wicked intents. No windows placed in the marble walls, and the ceiling boasts polished wooden rafters with other various devices hanging from them. This was the form he desired, and the form the room takes.

He stands, finger pointed to the ground at his feet, and a small chain leash in his other hand. It was time to make sure his fucktoy didn't disappear again...

 

[Britwitch]

Another yelp. It seems to echo a little in the expansive room, along with the slap that preceeded it.
Lips part to answer she has no intention of disappearing if she can help it but he moves away, releasing her hair and continues talking.

Fingers instruct her to follow and so she does. Smoothly rising from the chair, it takes little intervention to cause the already loosened dress to slip from her form. Leaving her naked, save the black heels and black ribbon. Heels click rhythmically on the floor as she follows, hips swaying.

Higher and higher they climb through the house, blue eyes take in details on the journey but her mind is elsewhere. Wondering where they are going and what will occur when they arrive.

The shiver that momentarily rocks her body and further hardens already stiffened nipples is one of amazement, not fear. The room, it's furnishings, are everything she expected the room to be and yet could not have imagined at the same time.

She knows what he wants, his posture, his finger and the item in his fingers all tell her wordlessly what she is to do.
Without a word, she moves to his side and drops elegantly to her knees. Head bowed slightly, dark curls falling to hide her face slightly. She takes a moment to try and calm her breathing, suddenly it has grown shallow and rapid. Anticipation and nerves threatening to overwhelm her.
One long steady breath.
Then another.

She was ready.

It was about to begin...

 

[Seranova]

There was a sight to behold, and one he hadn't seen of her in quite some time. Footsteps fall lightly as he circles around the beautiful body kneeling before him, and his green eyes travel up and down visible flesh. Upon reaching the front of her, a foot nudges her thigh, a small sign to spread them wider. The small chain is clipped to the ribbon around her neck, and pulled taught in his hand as he leans down to place his face next to hers. Eyes narrow, lips curl in a sneer, and tongue travels his teeth. Hunger.

"Do I have to explain the rules to this room, little witch? Or do you think you can figure them out as we go?"

Fingers trace across her jaw to guide her face up to meet his, and lips move within a mere fraction of an inch from hers. But then the smile comes, and he slowly backs away without making contact. This was the where the fun begins. The teasing would continue for as long as he chooses, past the point of any begging for release or mercy. But the begging was always so delicious...

With a quick tug on the leash, he turns and moves towards the far wall, which supports a pair of velvet panels acting as a display for various tools and toys. Upon the wall, among many others, is a collection of various crops, floggers, and whips, a variety of beads, vibes, and variously sized dildos, several sets of restraints, clamps, and harnesses with various functions. A finger taps against his chin as he makes a show of pacing back and forth along the collection. Eyes drift to her face as he picks up a few choice selections, studies them for a few moments, and puts them back carefully in their place. The smile that has been present on his lips is cold, calculating, and once again curls up into a smirk as an idea spurred on by a selection crosses his mind.

"Tell me, fucktoy... Do you remember what I expected of you?" A pause, but brief enough that he continues without really giving her much chance to respond. "A wet cunt, a willing throat, and a tight ass. And do you remember what I would have you wear for me?" Another brief pause, mostly for dramatic effect, as he slowly lifts a trio of clamps connected by chain. "Does this refresh your memory at all?"

Fingers slide down her chest and with palm brushing nipple, he gives the flesh a very heavy squeeze.

"And I do so hope you at least remembered to bring the wet cunt tonight, little witch... I'd hate to think you couldn't even have that to offer me anymore..."