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  1. #11
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    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
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257

    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    (Mature from here...)

    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; 06-18-2018 at 11:59 AM.

  3. #13
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    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
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257

    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.”

  5. #15
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I swallowed. Was this what people felt when they submitted to me? This eager anticipation to see what happened next? I took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to ignore the lingering aftertaste of her blood on my tongue. Slowly, I reached up and took the shirt in my hands - noting absently that it was the one I usually wore when I was working on curing hides - and stretched it out, pulling the fabric taut. It, like most of my clothes, had been treated to repel fluids - made it far easier to clean up - but it was so old that the treatment had been wearing off, leaving faint bloodstains behind.

    I held the stretched shirt up towards her. She grinned widely at me - and oh that almost predatory grin sent shivers down my spine - and drew the blade down the middle, slicing it. She had me set one half down, and slowly we went, the only words spoken were her soft commands to shift and hold different pieces up. Soon enough we had a loose pile of strips of fabric - some glossy, some stained - sitting on the ground between her feet and my knees.

    For a while she gazed at them before nodding and leaning back. She flexed her muscles and curved her spine gracefully as she swung the arm not containing the dagger out. Her hand delicately plucked both rope and manacles from the ground and brought them over. She straightened again and paused before throwing the manacles over at me.

    “Put those on. In front,” her grin was truly glorious. I slowly picked up the iron handcuffs. I had these for the few times when I was asked to bring a target back alive, so they hadn't seen much use recently. I removed the key and set it down by her feet, then clicked the left cuff into place, then the right. It was - odd. The last time I had been in manacles had been when Philomel, the faun captain who had captured me and taken me from Alerar, had had me on her ship. This was - far from the same kind of situation, and I now I found myself, frankly, excited to see where this went.

    I slowly looked up her long slender legs, along the curve of her body, and focused my eyes onto her pink gaze. I felt my mouth go dry as I shifted slightly, letting her see that I had put the cuffs on.

    Gently she scooped up the keys with her toes and brought it up to her hand. She peered at it for a moment before grinning and - throwing it over her shoulder into the depths of the tent.

    Then she sat down and opened her legs before me, displaying her womanly beauty very well. Her head tilted to the side for a while, watching my reaction as I licked my lips. One very loud part of me, the part I normally went with, was begging me to snap the chain between the manacles - to throw Vixen down and make her bleed and scream, to draw out moans of pain and pleasure as I stained her body red with blood and drew a shuddering orgasm from her body. But - here and now, I was putting that side of me away for a moment. I was letting her take control of things. So I just trembled and stared - because as of yet, she hadn't told me, or asked me, anything.

    She leant forwards and picked up three lengths of fabric and tied them together before holding them out to me. I took them slowly, and she nodded, saying nothing before she started plaiting. Her eyes became concentrated on that, her breathing getting heavier and heavier as she did. She kept going, tying off the end before then grabbing another set and, wordless, passing them to me. We continued for some time, and my body trembled lightly as she worked. I wanted that focused pink gaze locked onto me - but she had said we were making bonds here, and I could see them coming together. As she worked on making the first level of twined fabric, I raised one brow and gently coughed - holding two of the loops she had made together, wordlessly asking if she wanted me to braid them. Moon above this was getting to me - her breathing getting heavier was affecting me, and I felt my heart rate picking up slowly and steadily.

    She looked up and blinked at me. Her head tilted to the side before she stuck out a foot and suddenly placed it on my manhood beneath my trousers. She nodded and waved at the fabric strips. “We will work faster if both of us work,” she agreed as she pressed her toes forth.

    I could not help the groan that slipped from my lips as my body trembled. I started working quickly, fingers dancing back and forth as I wove the fabric together, creating thicker bands.
    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.

  6. #16
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257

    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    I felt his hard pleasure beneath my toes and smiled without looking at him as I made him want me even more. This was good, this game. I was deliberately making him want me, yearn for me, hunger for me, and all that was in his way was his own will to allow me to be mistress. It made me like this one even more, the fact that when I finally got down to it his hunger would be so very, very full. So I continued to apply pressure and continued to wet his appetite as we formed his bonds. I deliberately forced him into a groan as I secretly slipped some small pebbles I had found earlier into a plait, and then set that one aside.

    Finally I moved, and I could just feel his impatience. I had made him way for so long and teased him, and he had managed to wait out as I took my own time to take my use of him.

    I stood and picked the rope. Looking at him I smiled, innocently.

    “Are you wanting me still, warrior?” Those staring silver eyes focused on me and I saw him swallow.

    “Yes, yes I am.” His voice was deep and throaty with desire as his eyes moved to the rope in my hands. Wondering, no doubt, what I planned to do with it.

    “Then say these words,” I said, and gave him a phrase in my old native tongue as I held tight the rope in my hands. “Zurea naiz.”

    “ Zur.. Zurea…” He had a slight frown on his face as he concentrated, and I could see he was focusing intently on matching my pronunciation of the words as best as he could. “Nay- no, nai? Naiz.” He looked back up to my eyes, silver gaze intent. “Zurea naiz.”

    Softly, I smiled and nodded.

    “Yes you are,” I said to the man who had told me that he was mine. I held that gaze for a moment before I finally nodded.

    Sweeping down a hand I took up the knife again, then sliced off a large section of the thin rope. Taking just that I then leant forwards, letting my small but very round breasts bulge in his eyes as I pressed closer to him. Mischievously I winked before I took the rope and brought it up to his lips.

    “Open,” I commanded. His eyes widened - but his lips fell open, baring those shockingly white teeth and the black-purple interior of his mouth. I laughed at his expression as I leaned and grabbed a chunk of a cuff of the shirt I had kept behind and then stuffed it into his mouth. Then, swiftly I shoved the rope between his teeth and got up, swinging around him. I pulled the ends of the rope hard behind his head so it would be uncomfortable and forced the gag in deeper. I tied it tight and grinned as I shoved a hand around the nape of his neck.

    Time to go back to the harshness. He had told me he was mine, and I was going to show him. Pricking him with my nails I dragged him up higher. I leant to grab the knife and began savagely attacking his trousers. I let go of his neck and stabbed his back with my nails as I yelled.

    “On your feet.”

    He staggered upwards, bracing an elbow on a knee before he forced himself upright. His purple blood was trailing down his torso and his legs, from where I had stabbed him with my nails and from where the knife had cut a bit more than just the fabric of his trousers. Despite this, he seemed actually a little steadier on his feet than he should have been with the amount of blood I had drank, and what was now slowly falling along his dark skin. It made my systems roar with desire and as I finished off the ruining of his good quality trousers. I found myself leaning forwards to run a rough tongue up his body. Blood clung to it and a shiver of ecstasy ran down my spine. So smokey it was in taste, so rich and sumptuous. Like meat. So, he was surviving better than others might with blood-loss - that served me well. It meant this night would last so good.

    Last of all I ordered him to take off his boots and he complied. Then, snaking my hand up and grabbing his neck again I began to drag his gagged self to the pole where I shoved him in front of it. It was then that I looked at him for a moment and I paused to see those bite marks that I had initially made were gone. Healed. Completely. My head tilted and I grinned.

    So he had enhanced healing.

  7. #17
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I ached. Oh, I ached. My erection was hard enough to cause a bit of discomfort at this point t, and she'd barely touched it. But she had kept driving those, those fucking nails into me, and the sharp little crescents of pain were delicious agony. The gag was, while a bit painful, more of a disappointment than anything else - because now, until she removed it, I couldn't taste her in anyway. No, all I could taste was the faint tang of my own sweat, soaked into the hem of the cuff from years of wear. Annoying more than anything else, that.

    I stood, shaking once from tension, in front of the pole in the middle of the tent. I had to duck my head a bit to avoid hitting the fabric roof - it was just a few inches too short for me to stand upright comfortably. In this situation, I doubt that would matter. Vixen was currently examining me, and her eyes had lit up as she grinned widely. I didn't know what was running through her head - or, what those words she had had me say meant. They obviously meant something significant to her, but whatever language she spoke, it wasn't one I was familiar with.

    I watched her as she slowly craned her head to one side, her eyes focusing on my neck. Did - did she want to drink again? I had recovered, for the most part, from her earlier feeding. I shivered and a wave of desire rolled through me at that thought. Shit. It seemed I definitely had a fetish for having my blood drunk. Thankfully it wasn't like there was a surplus of vampire women running around looking to feed for mutual pleasure, which was all I was interested in. Just the one, at least that I knew of, and she was already looking at me like her birthday had come early.

    Her eyes snapped been to mine as she let a warm smile come over her face. She nodded at me and then twirled around me slowly. As she walked I could see her pick up the braids she and I had made and the ropes. I drew in a breath. Was she going to be whipping me to start? No, that wouldn't make sense, why would she have me stand in front of the pole if that was the case? I shivered. Fuck. I twisted my head slowly to track her, keeping my eyes on her. Not because I didn't trust her - fuck, at this point all I had on me was literally the manacles and the rope - but because I found I just could not take my eyes off of that lithe form.

    Swiftly she came forwards and suddenly grabbed my elbows from behind. Pulling them right back she caused me to slam against the tent pole. The whole structure began to rock. Then rope was passed between my elbows, the roughness of the material being dragged over my flesh to make it clear. I shivered. This wasn't inescapable, but it was uncomfortable, and contorted my body a bit. Without breaking my tent, I was at her mercy. It - excited me.

    I heard a chuckle behind me before her white form appeared at my coal coloured shoulder. A wink and she gave my shoulder a small, direct nip with her teeth before disappearing again. There was a moment where I could feel fresh blood oozing, and that was a distraction before braided cords began to lash themselves around my ankles, dragging them together and tying them to the pole. I moved my feet back - suppressing the nervous tension that ran through me here. I could likely break these ropes if I absolutely had to - but that wasn't the point here. I was not in danger - at least I hoped not. I swallowed. At least, not actual danger.

    But what was she planning? I couldn't go anywhere without being untied now, and all I could do was go back to my knees. I turned my head back to catch sight of her. She was holding the dagger back in her hand and was eyeing me up as if studying me. When she caught sight of me looking at her she laughed, then lowered the knife blade to come at me. She appeared at my shoulder, teeth biting her lip as she gazed down at my form with firm desire.

    “Mmmm,” she said. “Let's just see how well you heal, little warrior?”

    Then the cold blade of the knife was at my abdomen. Her arm was snaking around my waist as she stood just at my back. As her teeth descended to bite hard into my shoulder the blade lightly pressed into my flesh. I let out a loud groan, muffled by the gag in my mouth. Fuck! I dared not let my hips buck, that would just drive the knife in deeper.

    She began to drink as the knife drew patterns in my skin. It slid down, soft but piercing toward my navel. Her other hand at the same time caught around my other side and rested there. Slowly she drank, tenderly she carressed me with the knife and sharply her nails began to dig in as the three points of pain became three points of pleasure, for her … And for me. Her body pressed against mine, her breathing was regular but hungry, and a groan was in her throat the more she went on. The knife traced up my chest and up to my neck.

    It paused as it touched my throat. By this time she had stopped biting, and her other hand was no longer digging nails into me. There was a moment of nothing before hand opened and with a clatter the knife fell to the floor. I breathed heavily. Fuck. Fuck I did not want her to stop. Why the hell had she stopped? That pain had been fantastic - I wanted more. Why the hell had she stopped touching me? I moaned in disappointment and tried to turn my head to look to her.
    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.

  8. #18
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257

    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    He was twisting and turning, trying to turn his head to catch sight of me as I moved my hands away from his body. Violet blood leaked down from the nonsensical patterns I had sliced into his stomach, the cuts just barely breaking the skin in some places, in others driving in deeper. The marks from my nails were already fading, as well as the lighter cuts from the knife, but the deeper ones were taking long, scabbing over.

    Below his stomach, his erection was jutting out, almost angrily, bobbing in time with his heartbeat. Thin rivulets of his blood had fallen even there, and stained his coal-black skin purple. He let out a soft moan, an almost wanton sound, but it was heavily muffled by the shirt cuff I had filled his mouth with earlier. His body trembled, and I could see that he was restraining himself from moving too much - of course that could also be because if he moved too much, he would fall to his knees.

    “If it is too much,” I whispered. “Fall, my warrior, fall. There is no shame in that.”

    Gently I ran my lips across his collarbone, breathing in the still pungent odour of his strong blood that at least oozed at his collar bone. I gave him a playful nick, my grin large and ominous. Then I parted from him to lean back and take up the plait I had hidden the pebbles in at one end. As his body trembled with the decision of whether or not to fall I grabbed a few other strips. Darting forwards, before he could do anything but be indecisive I flicked three bands of fabric around his eyes, catching them easily. I kissed his neck cruelly as I tied them tight at the back of his head, his use of eyes now not available to him.

    He shivered, and I could see the muscles in his shoulders and legs twitch and strain. Then he breathed in, deeply, his chest rising and falling once, twice - and then he deliberately knelt down. His knees were now on either side of the tent pole, his feet a short distance behind it. I watched as he leaned his head back and rested the back of it against the pole behind him. My lips curled up in a smile and I let him rest for a couple of minutes, getting his breath as I eased out the cords of the makeship whip in my hand.

    My body shivered with my own delight and I felt my underneath beginning to self-moisturise. Indeed, I was enjoying this as much as he was (by his stiff manhood), but I would not let him know.

    Not just yet.

    Slowly I breathed, and let the minutes extend. I did not move, as he was left in unknowing silence. I could see his shoulders roll and his body tremble, and there was an odd, curious groan that tried to slip out past the gag. His head twisted slightly, as if he was trying to reach me but I wasn't there. It seemed to confuse him.

    Laughing with delight I skipped around to his side, pleased to see he still wanted me. I eyed his side for a moment - the strong thigh and the chest - and there I focused before extending my arm out behind me.

    Then I struck. Hard and unforgiving, the pebbles smacking against his flesh. He shook, his body flinching away - then he was back, straight backed, his head trained in the direction had struck from. I could see that his body tension had shifted - from confusion, to anticipation.

    He liked it then. So, again I hit, bold and determining, smack on his side. I saw a large bruise popping into existence from where I had first hit and now a second stripe was joining it. If he could gasp I am sure he would have as I used all my strength to then lash his chest, right along the diaphragm. My own body surged with delight at the prospect of dealing, and memories of taking, this type of pain to one who was allowing me to do it.

    A fourth time I hit, on the opposite thigh to the place I had begun and I whispered. “Do you want me to stop?”

    His hips rolled back and forth slowly, and he shook his head with a heavy motion, like it took conscious thought to make it move. He had leaned towards my voice when I spoke, moving towards me as much as he could. I grinned and gave him a single gift - a short but heavy kiss, around his gag. He seemed to enjoy it, stretching towards me longingly, but I was not finished.

    I moved back and swung back the crop as best as I could before driving it over the exposed cheek of his arse.

  9. #19
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I groaned. This was maddening. I wanted more, a lot more. My body trembled and shook, and the jolt of pain rolled through me as the plaited shirt, apparently with stones in it, cracked against my ass. Fuck! She had kissed me - but even the kiss was ruined by this damn gag, this fucking rope. I had felt just the her lips against mine, but it hadn't been enough, I craved more, a lot more. I wanted to taste that sweet blood of hers again - hell, I wanted to taste her, her body. I think, of all that she had done to me so far, the gag was the worst. I chewed at the cuff for a moment, despising it.

    Another hit came, this time to my other butt cheek. She seemed to be enjoying it, a sweet merry laugh coming from her voice as she spun around me. The next hit came across my thigh, where she had originally hit, then over my shoulder above it. She seemed to favour that side, lashing down a further time as I then felt a sweet kiss on my shoulder, followed by the hardest, most vicious bite yet.

    My head dropped back, and behind the blindfold my head dropped back. I groaned, loudly, the sound shaking my body. Moon, yes, give me this pain and pleasure! I ached for more - for her to even touch me. And now I could feel her fangs digging into me, piercing me. It was fantastic. Not enough - but fantastic nonetheless. The muscles in my legs tensed and ached as I clenched them. Sweet moon I needed this. I hated the fact that I couldn't see her, couldn't taste her - but it was what she clearly wanted right now, so I wasn't going to balk against that. Not yet, at least.

    She drank, well and deep, satisfying her hunger for who knew how long. As she did she smacked me around my thigh, but it was weaker than all the times before. Still drinking she hit once, then a last time before the whip was thrown to the ground. Then, her body coming into line with mine from behind, pressing into my back she just drank, a hungry groan in her throat. Her hands gripped me from my sides, but the nails did not sink in. Instead she seemed to simply get off on the simple joy of drinking my blood. I could feel her breasts press against my arm, and between us there was enough fiery lust to set the tent aflame.

    My body was trembling as she drank. Fuck this felt good. I could feel my cock aching for attention at this point - her lips on my flesh, her fangs in me, it was so arousing that I couldn't help it as my hips rolled. Gods. I wanted this more badly than I realized. It had been too long since the last time I had sex - and even longer, I think, since I had given up control like this. It felt good, very, very good. And her drinking was - helping. In the best, worst, way possible.

    She pulled away gently, and paused before her smooth tongue licked along my shoulder, picking up the bleeding around there. I could hear her panting breath at my shoulder, the excitement in it. There was a long moment of pause before she very gently kissed me at the neck. I moaned. Fuck. Fuck, I was easily as excited as she was.

    “You are strong, warrior … gerlari,” she murmured to me. “You have been very good. Would you like me to remove your gag and blindfold?”

    I chewed at the gag again, trying to work my jaw. “Ghg.” Fuck. I hope she understood that. I sure as hell did not. There was a pause.

    “Nod if you want the blindfold removed.” I paused. The blindfold - I didn't really mind it. It was, in a way, exciting not to see what she was doing. To just feel and experience it. So I shook my head. No. Just get this damn gag out of my mouth so I can taste you, dammit.

    “And the gag?” Oh, here I nodded. Firmly. Several times. Please get this damn thing out.

    A light laugh. “Okay, young gerlari,” she said, with pleasure. And footsteps carried her around to my back. There was a pause but finally the rope began to loosen and eventually fall away.

    I spat out the cuff and worked my jaw several times, trying to ease the pain in my lips and jaw itself. Oh, that was better, much much better. I ran my tongue across my lips, wetting them, and took a deep breath. It felt good not to have that damn cuff in my mouth any more. I turned my head in the direction of her last footstep that I had heard. “Zurea naiz.” I said it softly, repeating it low. She had seemed to like it earlier - I hope it got to her now.
    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.

  10. #20
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257

    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “I am yours.”

    As he repeated the words to me without being asked to, and close to the correct pronunciation I felt my heart beat proudly. He had done well, and responded as the best lover might to the pain I had instilled. He had healing and I had already tested that limit by drinking the most amount of blood I had in some time. The taste of his meaty, almost smokey blood still flavoured my mouth, with the coppery highlights. Softly I leant forwards and cupped his jaw, tilting his head upwards.

    “My gerlari,” I said to him. Soldier. I don't know why, for some reason it was fitting him. “I am proud of you.”

    Then I kissed him proper, sliding my tongue across his lower lip. He moaned and his mouth slipped open, and his own tongue darted out to meet mine.

    Slowly then I kneeled before him, moving my hand with a stroking motion from his jaw to his shoulder. My other hand lowered until I could properly grasp his manhood, strong and tight. I smiled gently as I held it steadily, my hand not moving, watching his trembling anticipation before I grinned.

    “Shall I go on?” I whispered.

    He groaned. Loud, his body trembling. But he didn't move, his hips remaining immobile. Like he thought that my not moving meant he could not. “Wha-whatever you want me to. Here and now, I am yours, Vixen.” His voice was a low roll, deep and throaty. His silver eyes were trained on mine, staring into them intently.

    “Yes you are,” I said powerful as I began to rub. “You are.” Slowly I reached behind me and found the knife again. “You are.”

    I bit my lip, and leant forwards to kiss him as I gently began to massage. I kept the kiss long and lingering, letting his lips taste my flesh more pure than he had when he had when he was gagged. It was sure, firm and beautiful and I pressed close without any other meanderings as I gave him the gift of my hands.

    That was until I brought the knife to his chest and literally began to carve my name into his chest.

    His eyes, which had drifted closed as I kissed him deeply, shot open wide. There was - pain in them as he let out a groan against my lips, a drawn out, shuddering thing. It was a pained noise, but he didn't pull away from the bite of the knife. “T-The scars will f-f-fade in a few days.” His voice was soft, and a bit choked. Good. So he did actually feel pain.

    I nodded solemnly as I pressed deeper into his flesh with the blade. “They might. Yes.”

    Then I smiled as I lowered my mouth to suit my jaws around his manhood. Swiftly I ran my tongue up and down his member, my eyes falling closed and my voice lowering into a hum. With my tongue I aimed to pleasure him and with my knife I aimed to pain him. I carved the country of my birth in him before he groaned loudly.

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