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Thread: Pink and Silver (Closed, Mature)

  1. #11
    Member

    EXP: 4,360, Level: 2
    Level completed: 79%, EXP required for next Level: 640
    Level completed: 79%,
    EXP required for next Level: 640


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    710
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    “Twelve hours or so, roughly. Give or take a few minutes.” Twelve hours, where I was seriously considering going to Philomel and asking her to end me because I had clearly become a monster, willing to just kill anyone who asked. Nine hours since the fire had died, leaving me in the cold and dark as night rolled over, and I ignored everything but waiting for the sound of movement in the tent. She had told me, twelve hours and she would be fine - and when my internal clock had ticked over, I had begun to worry. But - but she was awake. Staring at me as I stood in the tent.

    “And I'm - feeling relieved. I was beginning to doubt your words before.” Fucking - wait. What the hell had she said after the fact that she would be fine after twelve hours? ‘Lovely, lovely -’ no. No I doubt she actually meant that. Probably part of a plea to be released from her pain. Despite that, my eyes flickered across her form, along the smooth lines of her body that she was hiding beneath my blanket.

    She blinked. “So I did ask you.” She smiled softly. “Thank you Hunter. Not many would believe me or trust themselves enough. Or me,” she pulled up her cover a little more, and then relaxed. “Thank you for the food as well. And the lend of your tent.”

    I swallowed, and nodded. “Yes. You asked me to kill you, and told me it would be twelve hours before you woke up again, and -” I broke off and turned around, looking away from her. I did not need her seeing my confusion, or my arousal. Because it was clear she didn't actually remember. So it didn't matter. “And you're welcome to stay in here a bit longer. I'll go out and get the fire going again, you're likely to be hungry after - reviving.” I paused a moment at the door flap to see if she said anything, looking over my shoulder at her.

    She was smiling with a strange, excited look, her eyes on me, but when she saw I could see her she glanced away fast. “The coat I leant you is being used - was being used, as your pillow.” I cleared my throat and walked out of the tent.

    Once I was outside I let out my breath. She was alive and well. She looked healthier than she had when she went to bed - there were no more signs of the faint exhaustion that I had missed before. That was a relief. I moved over to the fire and started stirring up the embers, bringing weakly warm coals to the surface from under the ash. Then I went into the trees to start gathering up wood to serve as fuel for a new fire.

    Sweet moon what had that smile been about though. It had promised unspoken things, of - excitement and anticipation. I don't think I have ever had someone look at me that way, like I was - exactly what they wanted in that moment. Not in this lifetime at least. Philomel had been the closest, but she'd needed, wanted a friend more than anything else. The look in Vixen’s eyes was not that look. Hell, I didn't know what it was.

    Out in the woods I shook off the tumult of thoughts. I - there was no nearby danger, I had killed or run off any dangerous beasts in the area. But still, it was the woods and accidents could happen. I'd heal, but I didn't want Vixen to think I had just walked off. I headed to check the traps I had set before I found the wolf trail. Luck - I had some fresh quail to use. I drove my dagger into the side of the struggling bird’s neck and sliced down, letting its blood spill across my hands. When I was sure it was dead, I undid my trap and headed back to the cap, a bundle of wood under one arm and the carcass held in my other hand.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  2. #12
    Junior Member


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    37
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Not surprisingly I felt the energy that I had before the wolf fight had even begun. Oh yes, I could have given up with the wolves and let them eat and kill me but who honestly wanted that sort of pain? And Unicorn had a way that I felt when I was her - she was strong, instinctive and has many aspects based on survival. She had wanted to live and best those wolves. I had wanted to be free.

    When the Hunter - Fil’ayn - did not return after half an hour or so I decided to get onto sorting myself out. He had rescued me from both the noose and the wolves, that was generous of him, and given me the cloak. But beyond that kindred he owed me nothing more. I needed to find clothes, some form of weapons close to what I had had before, and a direction. Undun the hermit had helped me figure out what I could do with my life now - we had spoken at length of what my strengths were and how I could try to investigate what had happened to the bird people I had been tasked with caring for when I initially came here.

    He had cautioned against revenge, however, telling me that bringing war against the kami who had sold me to the Sorcerers of Hern, or going after the Sorcerers’ legacy of the great city-state of Hernsford, would only lead to my sorrow. This meant I needed to do something else with my life. Right now I was really just a babe in all of this - without even my dress, the rapier and the riding crop I had escaped to this continent with. I knew lots about facts and figures of the land, but little of the culture and the reality of it. Would the Huntsman be able to help me much at all, or would he rather I go soon so he could get on with his life.

    It became clear I would need somewhere to start. I sat at the fire with Hunter's cloak around me, staring at the embers. I listed my wants and needs. Wants were sex, more meat, a sense of purpose and happiness. Needs were clothes, food, water, stability and at some point, sex. I folded my arms and glared at the dancing flames, wondering about how much I had talked about sex, or if I had mentioned it at all before I had fallen unconscious. I also realised I could not expect Hunter to respond to my every whim. He could help, of course, in providing me with food for now, and maybe taking me to the closest town, but he was not a long term solution.

    My line of thought was cut off when he walked into the camp, heart picking up beat as I noticed he was still bare-chested. That was good, as it filled my want of happiness partly. And those scars … mighty he was a warrior, I knew that well.

    “Ah - you're up. Good. We have more wolf meat if you're interested in that, or some quail meat instead.” My brows rose and I smiled at the idea of another type of meat.

    “Quail?” I asked, lightness to my voice.

    He lifted his right arm - he seemed to favor it for most things - and showed a bird in his hand. It was smaller than a hen would be, and was covered in its own blood. A small twinge in the back of my head told me of a light thirstiness for blood and I nodded at the bird.

    “Can you drain the blood for me too?” I looked up to him. “Or … I can? You will need to show me how.” He seemed - thoughtful, looking at the bird in his hand. His silver eyes had an odd gleam to them and I saw him lick his lips.

    “I - can, yes. Would - no, no. I - right.” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding and I could see the scars stretch for a moment before he exhaled. I raised a brow at the tone of his voice, but focused my eyes on the scars. A ripple of interest went down my spine.

    “What were you going to ask?” I questioned, following the route of one scar to his belly. He stilled, those intense silver eyes on me.

    “Would blood from a living donor be better?” His tone was - odd. Almost anticipatory, I would say.

    My lips parted in surprise. My eyes - regretting it as soon as it had happened - flickered automatically to his. I was honestly shocked, as such a thing rarely happened. He was … offering himself?

    I breathed in fast, the idea of fresh blood, living blood, flowing down my gullet very attractive. Fresh living stuff was always, always better. With the tip of my tongue I felt the sharp ends of my canines. Also, he seemed excited by the prospect of offering himself. A curious type of excited, that I secretly wanted to be him being turned on … but one thing first.

    “Are you serious?” I asked. “I have one day, maybe two, before I begin to suffer side effects of not drinking, but a quail would do …” His silver eyes were locked onto mine as he very calmly set the bird down on the ground.

    “I am - entirely serious. I have encountered a vampiric being before, and fresh blood was better than anything else. And I - well. I am entirely serious, Vixen. If you want to - you may drink from me. And I'll show you how to drain blood from animals as well, so in the future if you don't have someone else around you can survive. But -” He brushed his hand against his skin.

    “I am serious. And I want you to.” He finally said, staring at me.

    He … wanted it? I blinked, fairly surprised. An offer like that did not come along every day at all. And he was willing on showing me how to drain blood, so I wouldn't need to bite random people anymore. A shiver came to me, one of anticipation. So maybe he was turned on by it.

    Slowly I stood, my heart racing. “Only if you're sure,” I said. “I owe you already for saving me - Unicorn - from being painfully killed as dinner, and from the noose. Now you offer me this …” I paused and looked at him a moment, nibbling my lip. I did not know if offering sex for repayment was allowed in society here. Instead I decided to concentrate on what was on hand.

    I took a small step forward towards him. He dropped the wood with a clatter but didn't even look at it, and I could see his breath picking up a bit as I moved closer. Smiling softly I took the final step to close the distance between us and held my body inches from his.

    “Thank you, Hunter,” I said, my pink eyes alive with light. “I will only take a little.” I grinned slowly, lifting up my upper lip to reveal those sharp fangs of mine. Moving my eyes away from his I focused on his collar bone, where only a few veins throbbed and where I was used to biting. “Thank you,” I repeated as I slid a hand around his waist, pressing our bodies together, separated only by the cloak.

    He bent down and tilted his head to the side, offering me better access. “I said I want this. Take as much as you need -as much as you want - that won't kill me.” His voice was soft. Oddly - hungry.

    “I won't kill you,” I murmured, bending my head close. He had to be able to hear my hammering, heartening heart. “I promise.” And I paused, feeling the joy and the rich, strong desire of sex.
    Then I nodded to myself and opened my mouth. I bit into his flesh and … moaned.
    Last edited by Vixen Crowsfoot; 01-30-2018 at 01:59 PM.

  3. #13
    Member

    EXP: 4,360, Level: 2
    Level completed: 79%, EXP required for next Level: 640
    Level completed: 79%,
    EXP required for next Level: 640


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    710
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    Fuck, fuck this felt - good. It had to be - fuck. I could not help but moan myself as I felt her sharp teeth slide into my neck, digging in. This was far more erotic than when dhampir had fed on me - she had just bitten into my wrist. Not this - this neck kissing, sucking that was sending jolts of pleasure and desire straight down my spine. I cupped her, one hand going around the back of her head and holding her mouth against me, and the other cupped her ass as I felt my eyes close and I shuddered. A hungry groan came from her as she drank soft - then pulled away.

    Her eyes shone with a hungry light. Upon her face was a marvellous smile. Her own hand around my waist pressed our bodies closer together. There was a pause before she grinned and went back to what she had been doing. I moaned loudly as she returned, and I pressed her hips against mine. At this point I had no doubt at all that she felt my arousal as she fed. For a while more she kept drinking, but then drew back before any serious issues to my health could happen and she looked directly at me, her lips coated in violet.

    “Do you want me, Hunter?” she asked in a desiring voice. “I want it, but do you?” To answer her, I squeezed her ass tight, and stared into her eyes.

    “Oh yes. Fucking hell, yes.”

    “Preference?” she asked quickly, her breath on my skin. “I've done everything. Just tell me.” A light shone in her eyes. I groaned. Fuck. What the hell did I even want. Everything. I wanted to worship her small, tight body, and have her buck wildly on top of me, to pound her until one of us broke.

    “I can be yours,” she whispered. “Or you mine.” I froze, and I could feel my heart hammering wildly in my chest. To - to let go? To not have control? That thought - it drove me more wild than I had expected. “Shall I be yours?” she whispered. “Either way, I am alive again.” I shook my head once.

    “Yo-you’ve drunk my blood. I think th-that makes me yours here.” My words came out in a hoarse whisper. And fuck - I wanted my natural healing to kick in so she could keep drinking. It seemed I had a kink for that.

    Her eyes looked at me curiously, before she laughed. “If you are sure, warrior. You tell me when you've had enough, yes? When I go too far?” I let out a soft laugh. I had - I had carved women open, made them bleed. I doubted she could go too far.

    “I will. But I'm usually a sadistic person, so my perception of too far is messed up.”

    Her smile remained. “We shall see.” Her other hand slid around to join with hers at the small of my back. She stared up at my eyes. “Perhaps of we ever meet again I can experience what you mean by too far. But for now …” she leaned up and gave a long, effective lick along my jawline. “Show me how much you want me.”

    I groaned - fuck, this was different. And I found myself liking it. I let my hands fall from her, and fumbled at my trousers for a moment and then ripped them open, letting my shaft free. Her eyes dropped down and she gave a complementary nod. “That is good enough.” She ran her tongue across her lips before she looked up at me, her smile going for a moment and her tone going serious. “Kissing or no kissing? Full penetration or not?” I paused for a moment. I fought memories - then swallowed.

    “Whatever you want. I want it all.” I surrendered.

    Her mouth curled into a greedy smile. “Well then. Just say your real name and we can stop anytime. Until then …” her grin returned as she stretched up. “Kiss me.”

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. And I obeyed. I curled my hand around her waist again, and dipped my head down, capturing her lips with mine. My blood was - metallic on her lips. Not quite copper, but not iron either. I ignored that and focused on the feeling of her lips against mine - then her fangs softly stabbing into my lower lip, and I groaned. She smoothly ran a tongue across my lips, licking up the fresh blood that ran there. Then she kissed harder, lips to lips, leaning forwards into it as the nails of her hands began to join her grip on me at my back. She was holding me tight, as if I was some sort of possession. They ground into me and I could feel the twist of her lips curving into a smile as they pressed against mine.

    I hadn't been kissed like I was the possession in a long time, if ever. I groaned into her mischievous kiss, and felt my hips roll as her nails dug into the dark skin of my back. She seemed to know what she was getting to me, and raked her nails up along my back, and my face tightened in pained pleasure, and I opened my mouth to moan. She cut me off with a fresh bite along my lower lip, and held it there until blood dribbled into her mouth. Then she leant back, a wicked grin on her face and her pink eyes gleaming with a rich desire.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  4. #14
    Junior Member


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    37
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “Nire maitea,” I whispered, in the language of the Uniano. “Nirea izango zara gaur gauean.” I gazed into his silver eyes, the desire to possess him entirely roaring through my veins.

    Slowly I trailed one hand around to the front of his body, to his hip were it lingered for a moment. The other hand remained with the nails digging in, only slightly, as I stared.

    “Nirea,” I called him, then translated. “[I]Mine.[/].”

    It was time to see how far he was willing to let me go.

    My hand that was on his hip slipped quickly up his body, touching only briefly his chest’s flesh before I brought it to his neck. And then, with a quick, firm grasp I secured my hand around it with a vice-like grip and I dragged him down to my level with a sudden, savage move.

    “Are you still willing?” I hissed.

    He let out a long, slow breath, and I could feel his heartbeat hammering in his neck. He gave a steady, firm nod. “Very much so, yes.”

    My tongue slipped out and licked his jaw roughly, tasting his skin. It was smooth and had notes of a strange foreignness that I could not quite place. But - it would not hurt me, he had no natural poison that had affected me yet, thus likely had none that would in the future. I looked past him into the tent, eyeing that as my place to take him.

    I kept my hand around his neck and started to head there, my grip tightening. He would find it difficult to breathe - that was fine with me. So long as he did not die, but I could control him like this. He was forced to keep up with me, and be at my height. I could hear him staggering, but did not look at him else. As we got to the tent I flung aside the door flap and then threw him towards the bed, only finally releasing him.

    “Ropes. Fabric. Weapons. Where?” I asked, eyes blazing around the room.

    He had landed on his hands and knees, and he shook his head for a moment, that short white hair shifting ever so slightly as he did so.

    “I - have some rope in my pack. Extra clothes as well that can be torn. Weapons - I have daggers on the inside of the coat, and some iron and wood spikes on the vest over on the floor. My main wea-weapon is here.” He touched the cruel, jagged blade that was on his back, hooked to a holster on his belt.

    Twisting back to him with lusty fire in my eyes I stared at him, then my eyes moved to his belt. A belt. Trousers. Why on earth did he have them still on? I headed towards him, grabbing the weapon. I pulled it free from his belt, likely breaking something. A ping told me it was so. For a brief moment I inspected the weapon and then curled my lip, finding the blade far too large for what I wanted. So I threw it down to the ground before turning away, a finger pointing at him.

    “Egon zaitez bertan … Stay there,” I ordered as I walked over to the pack and clothes he had indicated. He would stay, I was sure, if he wanted me. If he wanted this.

    Rifling through the pack I threw aside packs of dried meat, waterskins and blankets. I found a pair of manacles first, placing them down at my feet. Then I found the rope, and placed that aside, and finally a more or less ruined shirt. It would do. I flicked my tongue over my lips, tasting his blood again, as I searched around to find this vest he had mentioned. As I did I finally threw aside the cloak around me and stood there, finally full naked in front of him as I rifled. My butt wriggled in his direction. I let it do so, swinging my hips and letting him see just how lucky he was.

    I heard a hungry groan from behind, and a glance over my shoulder showed that his eyes were locked in my form, and the muscles in his body that I could see were trembling slightly. He clearly wanted to move forward, but was listening to me, and not moving from where he was resting on his knees. I let myself laugh and wriggled my butt more, so the mounds of flesh that were literally part of a deity could make him hunger more. I was reminded of Herik, my lover who had ended up being my freedom, and the way he had ended up pining for me at our every encounter. I turned back around and found a knife, taking it from the vest and stood back up.

    No more arse in face. I fingered the tip of the blade and found it to pierce my skin quite effectively and attractively. A small bead of blood popped into view. Curiously, I stared at it and a thought popped into view. Smiling, I turned to him and took a step forward to offer the finger.

    “I tasted yours … Would you care to taste mine?” I held the dagger and waved it in the air like a pendulum as I watched and waited. His eyes were focused on the pearl of my blood, and I saw him shiver again. When I brought my finger near his mouth, he learned his head forward and his dark, purple tongue darted out and wrapped around my finger, coiling and curling about it, lapping away the red bead. I felt his groan of enjoyment vibrate my finger.

    “Sweet…” He pulled away, his silver eyes shining as he watched my finger.

    My eyes were full of enchantment. I found enjoyment as he drank, a shiver running up my spine. I took my finger from him, curtly nodding. “I am glad you enjoyed it, warrior. You will get more if you obey me.”

    I lowered the knife and took a couple of steps back before I found the old, stained shirt. Taking it up I held it out to him. “Hold it taut between your hands,” I ordered, gesturing with my knife. “And we will make some of your bonds together.”

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