Welcome to Hell.

[Erlind]

Lost in her touch. Her lips.

She is gone.

I must find her this way again.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

One never realizes just how hot the damn floor is in Limbo until they awaken there with NO shoes on.

I think my heels may have melted.

No matter.

I stand up, amazed by the fact that I had awakened in the bed that Perplexia had placed here, long and long ago.

My clothes are gone.

Nude wolfling in Limbo. Sweet.

A stroll to the bar for OJ.

I need to wake up. There are words due...

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Clothing appears.

Denim booty shorts.
A white form fitting tank top.
White sports bra.
White boy shorts.

Each layer slips on, unobtrusively, while I sip my OJ, debating how to start the piece for the Night side. An explanation, I think...for the Street of the Gods. A little bit of hocus pocus to explain the traversal from point A (the Shades) to point B (uptown and then tunnels and then the street where any manner of Godling can be found...

Another sip, pulling out a piece of fresh parchment and grabbing a wandering incubus, so that I can use his blood~sparkling pale blue~ for ink with my quill pen.

I think I can see my way inside, now.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

The incubus is dotted with all manner of minuscule wounds.

I hadn't bothered to feed my quill from the same fount.

The writing is done. It does what i require and for the most part, I am happy with it.

Only one more piece due.

But the lack of sleep is catching up to me and I find myself unable to focus on that story just now.

A nap, first.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

A return from reality.

Still in the booty shorts, white tank.
Still barefoot. Still cranky and achey.

But I do have a piece to work on and a bit of solo writing...
an idea I have from a dream I woke up from.

All blood and gore and moans.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Heading for the chair, the bar, my Stoli bottle. It's the gift that just keeps on giving. The ice bucket is placed on the bar top, bowl of lemon wedges situated just so. A shot glass, some sugar. YAY! Lemon drops. Happiness.

Settling down to write, I call for, and get, a cute little succubitch to keep me company. She is all big hips, big tits, small waist and floaty hair covered in pale green flesh. Would call it heaven if I weren't at the entrance to Hell. No matter. Succubitch makes herself comfy as my footstool.

Incubastard returns with my quill pen, opening flesh wounds for my amusement. Sweet.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

*crackle*

The flames rise through the floor, feeding the heat that can be found here...in Limbo.

My hand has never released his. My nail is still burying it's self into the fleshy hill of his palm. But we are here now, leaving the quiet of my Haven far behind.

Succubitch and incubastard are still here...bleeding, laying, whimpering.

I am better.

Clothing has gone from sweet to barely there bits of nothing that hides much less than it shows.

Bare footed.
Sports bra.
Thongs.
White cat suit...covers me from ankles to neck...
velvet...soft...

 

[Erlind]

I expected her to let go, to relent, but she hasn't and in some ways today I don't think she will. Maybe that's why I came to find her in Hell in the first place. Maybe that was what I sought.

I stare. I can ignore her nail driving into my skin even as my body urges me to remove it, but I cannot help, but stare at her now. She is almost completely covered, but it hides nothing at all. Being free of clothes can be seen as natural or comfortable over sexual sometimes, but her raiments leave no chance to wonder such things. She is a creature of lust here and I want her.

I remain in the same attire as the last time I came here. That of a soldier if not one ready and eager for war.

My palm hurts. I say nothing.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

I see the chain holding his tags.
I see the denim clad thighs, the flannel covered chest.
Leather.
I see short hair, perfectly barbered.
I see a drop of blood from the spot where my nail has punctured his palm.
NOW
I release his hand.
Head dips down, tongue finds the welling spot, licks it away.

Are you thirsty, E?

I meander away, watching him as he stands~semi at ease. A soldier at rest does not tend to stay at rest...but for now...

He is standing there, looking hard and handsome and in need...of something.

I will give him what he requires, in my own time.

Bare feet lead me to the bar. Once there, I find tall glasses filled with ice cubes and sparkling water. I pick them up and return to his side, offering him a drink.

Drink up...and have a seat. Lose the coat. It's hot here...and you will not need it...
should probably lose the shirt as well....though you don't have to....

Pressing close, full lips find jaw line...

Please.

A request made prettier by the manners I display.
And the flames love the way white velvet caresses bronze skin.

 

[Erlind]

It stings a little again when her tongue darts across the tender spot, but I find it worthwhile. Without thinking about it my hands slip behind my back as I wait to see what comes next. Thumb of the opposite hand circles the place she broke skin while my hands are out of sight.

Sweet words accompany a sweet touch accompanying a form that is anything but sweet, but all the more satisfying.

I slip the coat off silently hang it on the back of a nearby chair. I consider the shirt as well. She’s right, it is hot, but I leave it on. While we don’t have an audience, this place is much less secluded than her haven. It’s something that shouldn’t and at times hasn’t stopped me, but today it does.
I sit and slowly drink what has been offered to me.

“What comes next?” The question is a strange choice to break my quiet and while its asked with a strong voice, its nature betrays uncertainty.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

There is a hint...of hesitation.

He moves with that battle tested grace that I find, utterly delicious.
The swell of muscles that flex and flow beneath the plaid only makes me just that much more

Needy.

I will give you whatever you want. Here. There. Anywhere. Just say what it is that you require. In small words, so that there is no chance of me, misunderstanding.

A smile. Devious. Innocent.

Moving in, my own lips find the edge of the container and I sip glacier from a glass. Water droplets escape and hiss into steam before they ever reach white velvet.

I know he is hot...and I want him.

But is better if he sets the mood...better if he gives boundaries...otherwise, I might run roughshod over his sensibilities.

 

[Erlind]

"I think I came to find you in Hell the other day for a reason. I did not want to answer this question. Take. Use. If you want to hurt me than hurt me. If I pull away, don't let me go. I will tell you if I cannot handle something, if you find a string to pluck that hurts too much. I ask for no fear of going too far, no hesitation."

I set the glass down and then pluck a hunk of ice out of it and toss it across the floor. I watch it sizzle as it slides and disappears. I look back to her with no wisp of doubt in my eyes.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

And there it is.

He says what he wants and I can give it.
I want to give it, gleefully, joyfully.

For hours.

His eyes lock upon my own and I see nothing but his insane self assurance.

I want that broken.

So...eyes flick to the floor...and I see the ice melting...gone. Instant ice death.

The glass is dropped...and shatters. One piece is larger than the others. Small fingers pick it up.

It becomes a straight razor, gleaming in the flickering firelight.


Then stand up, E.
And take that fucking shirt off.

Feet carry me closer...closer...until I am just before him, gazing down into his eyes, relishing the difference in height...where in this moment I am the taller one.

And if you run? I will hunt you down and make you sorry.
If you try to deny the heat here? I will make you pay.

 

[Erlind]

Broken glass becomes a beautiful blade. The woman wearing the skin of a creature of lust and power becomes what she had posed as. With consent given her words suddenly become harsh and angry, demanding. She stands over me.

I rise just as requested. Button by button I slowly remove the shirt. I neither hesitate nor rush as I do what she has asked. Eventually the shirt is tossed aside, not being given the care that the coat was. I find myself wondering if it will burn up, but I don't look back to see.

Metal tags and beaded chain rest over the hair and muscle of my chest. My information is stamped into the tags, but in this place they are unreadable. I watch the one I unleashed with my words. I watch the straight razor she holds, its polished sheen capturing my eyes.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

The heat rises.

And so does he.

Shirt is gone. Chest is bare except for the faint silver gleam of tags that rest upon it. One hand moves, without conscious desire or thought. Trails up over flat abs, broad chest, wide shoulders.

The other hand...holds silver sharp pointy pretty like an extension of my self. I have tried to be a friend and not prod, not push.

I will prod, poke, push...now.

Nice. Very...nice.

Eyes gaze at vast expanse of flesh laid bare.

Hands on the back of your neck. Legs hip distance apart.

I don't care if he moves now or later...

I just want to be able to remove his jeans with a minimum of fuss.

Razor reaches out and pricks...flat belly.
Pricks...chest...

no real blood. No real pain. Only a test. A tease.
A way to check his commitment.

I want him to give me what I need.

 

[Erlind]

She hasn't asked me to stay still, but mostly I do. My hands go behind my back again and my feet are shoulder width apart. Its a vulnerable position if she chose to do something with her weapon, but that's the point. I want to show her I offer no fear and she has no restrictions.

I feel her hand trail along my chest, but don't look down until I feel the gentle touch of metal against my flesh. A little more pressure and she could easily cut into me, but I make no move to stop her and I am not concerned. If she did want to bring that kind of harm to me then at the very least she wouldn't do it yet.

It finds me again further up on my chest. I want to say something, offer something, but there is nothing that needs to be said yet. I could taunt her, but I have no desire to do so. I could encourage her, but at this point she no longer needs permission and she will do just as she wishes. There is nothing for me to say so I stay silent.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

He never flinches. Neither toward nor away. I know now.
He wants whatever I give him.

And he is silent. Perfectly silent.
I like that.
Most need a warning, but he knows me and he knows how I operate.

His body shifts into position. Arms up, legs spread. I am beyond bliss now.
I am beyond the urge to simply conquer, control.

I am here.

I drop to my knees before him and unbuckle his belt. Unbutton the silver button that holds the waist of his jeans, closed. The zipper slips down.

Somehow, I find my lips pressing to the lower part of his belly, tongue tip tasting flesh there. A hand rises, begins to tug the jeans down, uncovering him...until they pool round his boots and all that guards him from view are a pair of boxers...

The razor snicks beneath the fabric and moves...up. Parting fabric with a barely heard hiss of sound.

Sweet.

Eventually, the fabric drifts away and I am faced with a male~nude from the ankles up.

Silver blade traces lightly from thigh to groin...and back.

Mouth touches velvet soft head...tongue tastes...salt, sweat, sweet.

I rise.

Your boots are stopping you from being fully nude. I don't think I like that. So...
lose them. Kick the jeans, socks, boxers...away.

Small finger points...

You see that bed?
Once you are naked...go there. Lay down, on your back.

I turn away and retrace my route to the bar. I need ice and a bowl...

 

[Erlind]

The first thing she does that almost draws a reaction out of me is the touch of her lips. She is otherwise occupied however and I make no noise, so she doesn't notice. I am grateful. That first touch always seems to get to me.

Clothes fall and are cut away. Then she leaves me with my instructions. Boots are removed then socks. Everything is pushed aside. With her taking and forcing my clothes away I have none of the hesitation of before about being naked here.

I go to the bed and lay down. Head is propped by pillow. Arms are at my sides. I watch as she returns holding a bowl of ice. Blade, ice, heat of the floor, and harsh demanding unforgiving. She has so many weapons for me. I still wait for the first blow.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

He looks...good.

The bowl goes to a spot just between his legs. I position it so that the coldness rides alongside his scrotum. A bit of coolness to keep the heat at bay.

With it there. my hands are free again. The straight razor comes back to hand...

I want to fuck you. And I will...

but first...

Razor finds flesh and presses...a streak of crimson. A pungent scent in contrast to the scent of sulphur.

Presses there.

Right pectoral.

And there.

Left side.

And there.

Top of the abdomen.

Each razored kiss brings my mouth close to the flesh, to lick the sting and redness away.

Until...eventually, I find his length, slowly growing harder. The straight razor is dropped in the bowl and one small hand surrounds velvet steel. Strokes it, lightly.

The other hand grasps a piece of ice and begins a meandering journey over heated flesh...washing away the crimson stains my sharp pretty pointy has left behind.

And I stroke...caress, cool.

 

[Erlind]

"As you wish."

After that first painful kiss of steel my whole body tenses up. It hurts and it hurts worse each time, because of how tight my body is becoming. The grip fistfuls of fabric to keep myself in place and keep my teeth clenched tight to prevent growling in pain.

The thing that sinks into me the most though is the glee on the face of the curvy sexy thing that is cutting me. The delight she has and the need I can feel from her burrow into me and mix with the pain. I finally give a quiet low groan as her light fingers wrap around my length. More fabric curls tightly around my hands as I fight to not do more. She has me so twisted up inside. Its wonderful.

A cold touch stems blood and melted ice mixes with it. Soon a wash of blood and water is smeared across my chest. I tremble.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

White velvet is not meant to stay on when panties can barely contain the moisture that drips from between pouting nether lips. I need it off.

The ice has melted away and his upper body is covered in streaks and swirls of red. Perspiration, water, blood. A heady mixture for a Wolf pretending to be a girl pretending to be a succubitch.

And I don't know which part of me will end up winning.

Leaning close, I capture his mouth with my own.
Sharp white teeth grasp bottom lip and pull, bite, nibble.
Tongue tip coats lip with barely felt wetness.

Up again. One step back.
The cat suit is

unzipped

and pushed down...until all that is covering me from his vision is white panties, white sports bra. Slim fingers pluck the razor from the bowl...and cut the material holding the bra closed.

I am nicked by sharp pretty pointy...just beneath the butterfly that rides my solar plexus.

Now I bleed with him...

Want your hands gripping the head board...and no matter what my mouth draws from you, noise wise? I want you to hold very still.

Clamber up on the bed. Crunch some ice...crush it between sharp white teeth...and then lean in to take his length into the cold wet heat of my mouth.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Hell again.

I am here...

I find a quiet corner and sink into a chair.

Okay, possibly not the quietest place but better than listening to the heart rending sound of silence in my own head.

I need to write.

I have no idea WHAT to write.

Screams echo. Sobs. Slaps. Thuds. Chains.

Home.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Down..

or is that up?

No matter.

Bare feet dance over stairs leading toward the higher circles, stopping when I reach the level of Lust.

The second circle.

Here winds blow those lovers who should not have been together to and fro. A storm of desire that will never be quenched, never be quieted.

I find a spot by a lone weeping willow and plop down.

The circle is gray and dim. Very gray, very dim.

I hear the howling, the crying out, the lamentation. It feels almost normal.

Once I am comforted, I pick up my lap top and prepare to read over my very last thread of the day.

The Nightside with Lorna and Harvey.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

The winds have blown me out of Lust's circle and into Limbo. Beside me, my ever present shot glass, my always full ice bucket, my bottle of Stoli, my lemons and sugar.

The lap top is placed on the table.

I fix the very first lemon drop~

shot, sugar on the rim and finish with a lemon wedge

and take it.

Now, I can think.

The silence here is almost terrifying. No matter. At least I have no one to distract me from my next bit of writing.

I read and allow PGoD's post to conjure the Nightside up, in my mind.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Oh what to do, what to do?

The set up is so utterly perfect, so insanely poignant.

I may have to think on that one a bit longer.

I read his words again...and start jotting notes, reactions, feelings.

Maybe I should concentrate on replying to the gentleman that is going to help me with my horror story.

Another lemon drop is made, tossed back.