Leather and Lace [Irriari]

[Sahiri]

"I am not a whore," the Kelvic purred. She didn't take offense, not in the slightest. Could that be normal? Didn't most people get irritated if you called them that when they weren't? But Sahiri was perfectly content to be called that if Irriari wanted to - she had been called many names since she had come to Ravok, and while she used her wiles to attract others to cozy up to them, ply them and find out about them and leave them content, sated, and satisfied, Sahiri was not a prostitute for hire. She picked and chose - and none paid for her delights. Not with coin, at any rate. "but you can treat me like one if you wanted to," her eyes twinkled with pleasure and mischief, and she brushed her lips against Irriari's, just tasting her before arching her neck, drawing her lips away from the teasing touches she bestowed on the Zith.

"Then the Boarding House it will be," Sahiri breathed as she felt Irriari's claw on her cheek. She had felt sharper - the blades of knives had been used to caress her delicate silky skin, to test her, to tease her, to torment her, to let her prove her worth. The wanted to see if she would stay still, if she would be quiet, if she would keep her tongue still. It wasn't hard - her Master preferred it, and if that was what he wanted, that was what she wanted. Resisting the power given to her by the Goddess, particularly when she didn't want to, was impossible to her. That resilience proved useful. The Kelvic was an excellent listener, after all, and people just liked to confide in her without understanding why. Nikali had been so right when she had said that it was all about perspective. Serving and submitting... when accepted... embraced... it opened your eyes to a whole new world of opportunities.

Pressed against the Zith as she was, there was no denying the current that Sahiri was feeling. The other female's desire for her excited her - the spark of interest had been nurtured into a raging inferno - and Sahiri knew that she was going to be burned by it. But this pleased her - because she would be giving the outcast what she needed and craved in the process, and that merely amplified her own pain and pleasure to new heights. She pressed herself against her, wanting to feel her, feel more of her, wanted to rip her own clothing off right then and there for her to see, to take in, to want, to need. But she refrained for now. All in good time.

All in good time.

"I want it," Sahiri told her, her heart beating faster. "I want what you want." Her chest rose and fell, her stare intense as she didn't blink, but held Irriari's gaze. She didn't want a weakling. She wanted someone who would submit and please her, but she didn't want a mewling little pet. Not right now. No, the time for that facade had passed - this was a go big or go home scenario, and the Kelvic liked her odds. "Let's go to Tarsin's... I'll come back for these another time," she hadn't forgotten the clothes she had picked out - they could be set aside for her, and she would be in to pay for them. She could get the Zith's guard down like this, because no one -sane- would engage a Zith for a sexual escapade, after all, and see what happened from there in the heart of the blaze.

Trial by fire might burn, but the scars were neat reminders.

[Irriari]

Sahiri didn't consider herself a whore, which was a encouraging sign. One of the harlots she had slept with had promised her, for the right amount of mizas, that she would be ready for anything. Twenty chimes into the session, the girl was screaming and clinging onto the few scraps of clothing she had managed to save. Her nearly tangible fear and raw emotion sated what Irriari had sought the girl out for, but the quivering mess that had tried inching out of the room kept repeating that she didn't understand. Of course she wouldn't. Humans didn't understand passion, not like her race did. Their couplings were boring, plain and all together disgusting to watch. While some couples had fire in their eyes, the actions hardly matched all the words that came out of their eager mouths. It was a shame, but Irriari had expected no less. For tonight, their decision had been made.

Irriari could feel the girls heart beating against her bare skin, and wanted to hear it move faster still, so she grabbed Sahiri by the hair, and drug her out the door of the store, smiling at the shocked shop keeper as she did so. Surely, she was more outraged at the loss of a prime customer than the brutal treatment, after all, it would be hard to miss the seductive air that Sahiri was giving off. The girl could come back for her clothes tomorrow- if the bruises that would line her arms wouldn't leave her too embarrassed to do so. They walked to Tarsin's Boarding House in near silence, and Irriari let the girl enter the room first after Irriari had paid the mizas for the a one night stay in a larger room. Here, the bed was sort of made, and the sterile unpersonalized atmosphere left no illusions as to what was about to occur between the two women. None of Irriaris effects lined the wall to provide ammo for meaningless small talk, and she preferred it that way.

“Get on the bed, now. But first, the clothes come off.”

Irriari's voice was calm. She had no need to yell or plead, though Sahiri's answer, or lack thereof, would set the tone for the game that was about to begin. Whether she complied or not hardly mattered- the slinky clothing would be coming off very soon. The seductive girl had assured her that she was ready, so now she simply had to prove it.

[Sahiri]

Just like that, Irriari had her hair, bending her in that direction. She came along easily; the pull didn’t hurt her - her hair was too thick for anything short of truly yanking her around to inflict pain, and mostly so in the musculature of her neck. “I’ll back for them, please hold them for me,” the Kelvic singsonged at the shocked seamstress, waving as the Zith pulled her out of the store. It was easy trotting with her longer legs to in order to catch up with the winged woman, to pull even with her, before slowing as much as Irriari would allow her and straightening as much as the shorter female would let her - which wasn’t far at all. So bent partially, the Sahiri compensated with her hips, her steps short, but not mincing, making her rounding hips sway from side to side. From her dominant position, Irriari could certainly see the movement as they went.

Sahiri was not afraid. Excited, certainly... and definitely reckless. She put too much stock, perhaps, in her own abilities to get away, if the situation called for that, or to defend herself with dagger and claws and teeth. But she knew better than to think she could best anyone she ever met. In terms of combat, she was a novice at best, but she didn’t count out the element of surprise. Once or twice, quite deliberately on the walk, she bumped Irriari with her hip, just to press herself against her, to touch her, to rub against her. But often, often were her slender fingers, stroking and touching the outer side of the Zithanese female’s leg, thigh, and hip... her fingers occasionally slipping around towards her inner thigh, walking with butterfly light, teasing touches before dancing away just as they got close.

She really was impossibly incorrigible.

Once they got to Tarsin’s, though, Sahiri was finally released and she straightened her lithe frame, arching and stretching in the room Irriari paid for, displaying her cat-like flexibility for her mark. When Irriari spoke, though, the Kelvic’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating, a growing, blossoming smile on her face at the order. Straight to it, then. But that made sense - her eager, but restrained companion had no clothes to take off, not like she did. The silk sash came first - it was surprisingly long, considering the height of the girl, and the casual knot that had been at her hip. She turned slowly in a circle, showing off for her, letting the silk unwind itself around her. She was on her second rotation when she deftly let the whole thing go, the last of it, the dagger hidden within the folds as it slit down one long leg and landed soundlessly on the pile of fabric on the floor. The sleeveless shirt was next - it required nothing slipping it over her head and tossing her hair, tousling it, revealing the other ivory ribbons of different lengths, at different depths, hidden within her long, thick locks.

Every move was about digging the hooks in deeper. The discarded top was released one finger at time, dropped on top of her sash. Her skin was unmarred but for a few scars here and there, made with the thin blade of a knife by someone who seemed to know what they were doing. They were too fine to have been made by Zith, but no matter - surely Irriari would be able to add her own to this tempting morsel who flaunted and teased and enticed. At last her hands were free, and topless, Sahiri tilted her head, lips opening slightly, still smiling. Her arousal showed in her body’s responses, the perkiness of her breasts, the gently-arched curve in her back as she offered them before hooking her thumbs in the black cotton skirt, easing it over her hips before letting the garment fall by itself, her hands going to her hair by the nape of her neck, arching again, displaying herself, showing off a strange-looking mark on her left breast. It wasn’t a disfigurement, not at all - it seemed to be a tattoo, perhaps, of a crimson link, much like one would find in a chain. That was where Nikali had blessed her with Ranuri, and taught her to embrace submission and serving, blending the two to the point where to her, there was no longer a difference.

But she turned, letting her hair fall, showing her unmarked back to Irriari, offering her with her body language trust - she knew she shouldn’t turn her back on anyone, much less a stranger who practically wanted to devour her, but that was an instinct she had gotten over quickly in order to assure them that they had nothing to worry about from -her-. Sahiri climbed onto the bed, on all fours, her rump wagging with each movement as she crawled, looking her companion over her shoulder, her hair cascading to one side, pouting, grinning, displaying herself with parted legs and a dipped back before continuing to wiggle and crawl until she was still on her hands and knees, but now... now she faced her mark. Now was the moment of truth. And Sahiri would not back down.

[Irriari]

Irriari watched as the girl smiled at the command. Would nothing scare her? She seemed to have an unlimited supply of cheer and bliss at every word the zith spoke and it was slightly unnerving. As Sahiri slowly, tauntingly began doing away with her clothes, Irriari's thoughts changed and focused solely the lithe woman in front of her.

First, Sahiri did away with the silken fabric that adorned her curvy hips and Irriari nodded appreciatively as the girl made a show of it, unlike all the woman she had paid for in brothels, who simply threw the clothes down on the floor with no grace. Each turn of her slender body showed Irriari flashes of skin that she hadn't seen in the clothing store, but wholeheartedly approved of. The silk hit the floor, and Sahiri removed the shirt next, in one seamless motion that left all of her upper body uncovered. Small scars covered her body here and there, perhaps made by a knife. Irriari was suddenly envious of the person who had carved into the girl's white body and longed to leave marks of her own that would far out shadow the thin lines that Sahiri currently wore. On her left breast, Sahiri wore a tattoo, but Irriari quickly glanced over it, more interested in the skirt that was falling to the floor and what it had uncovered. Now, finally, Sahiri was completely unclothed and hers to take and use.

To her surprise, Sahiri turned and moved onto the bed, with her delicious butt wiggling, tempting and begging her forward. The second the girl looked back, her eyes full of mischief, Irriari knew she could wait no longer. The zith moved forward, and overtook the female, forcing her down onto her stomach with one push to her lower back. Sahiri's knees slipped on the soft blanket and her whole body went flat. Irriari's left hand found the girls dark hair and pulled her hair upward at a painful angle as she began to speak.

“Remember that you wanted this.”

Irriari's right hand clawed against the girls exposed back, in a line from the back of her neck down to the curve of her supple ass. Small droplets of blood began forming at the start of the wounds and quickly followed all the way down to the bottom, where the wounds were deepest. Irriari released the girls hair and considered choking her. No, not yet. There would be time for that later. Her hand connected with the girls butt loudly and she smiled at the hand print that was outlined in bright red. Beautiful.

“How much will you hurt for me, Sahiri?”

Something about the girl was interesting. She was so eager to please and beautiful on top of it all. Irriari wanted her, and knew that she could, if she tried. She toyed with the idea in her head as she continued to torment the girl. Impatient, Irriari flipped the girl around by grasping her hips on either side. Sahiri's face was pressed into the pillow as she did and Irriari heard her breathing quicken.

“I could keep you here, you know. I've owned slaves before. You'd be a beautiful trinket.”

Irriari's pulse quickened and her arousal heightened as the emotions played across the girls face.

[Sahiri]

Her eyes sparked as Irriari closed the distance between them, but it wasn’t with anything Irriari could have associated with danger. It wasn’t a reaction to fight or flight, it wasn’t anger or fear. It was delight, excitement, and the thrill that she shouldn’t love but did anyway, at her own risk. Her rump was the last part of her to go down when Irriari pressed down onto her back, and Sahiri stretched out on her belly, her knees sliding out beneath her, splaying her legs invitingly.

Her neck stretched and twisted within its apparent limits as the Zith held her hair firmly. Sahiri’s lips were parted, but she was silent at that, until she actually -purred-. The touch was manna. The touch made the pain in her neck worth it and more. Her tongue peeked out of her just open mouth, and licked her bottom lip as her eyes met Irriari’s and stayed there. “I know,” she breathed out, “I know.” She had. She wanted it, she had asked for it, and now, now she would reap what she sowed.

Her lithe frame arched under the claws, riding the searing pain that came from the claws, shuddering as pain and pleasure melded and merged, twisting and turning in her head to present her nerves and senses with one delicious delight. It hurt - Goddess, how it hurt! - but that exquisite agony, ending with a sharp slap on her rump made her raise her bottom to the hand as she released a moan of pleasure. Serving and submitting, in that instant, were one and the same. Cruel-to-be-kind. Accepting another’s need and wants as hers. Irriari wanted this. Needed this. And Sahiri needed it just as much.

The pleasure that came from that was worth more than any sensation she had ever felt before in her short life.

Her ass burned from the slap as blood rushed there, and she was panting, purring, and when Irriari addressed her again, she was smiling. One hand slipped down under her, along her body, beneath her belly, and displayed a tell-tale sign for the Zith’s observing eyes by means of response to her. “As much as you want me to,” she promised her, words as honeyed as the rest of her once she was on her back. She stretched one arm up above her head in a gesture of submission, bending one leg bent at the knee and off to the side, her other arm hooked under her knee invitingly as she reached out with her other leg, just caressing Irriari’s thigh with her toes, her eyes never looking away. If there was one thing Sahiri wanted to make sure of, it was that this would be a day, a sight, a scent, that the Zithanese female would never forget.

[Sahiri]

It wasn’t until the next morning when the Kelvic, scratched and cut and red from the blows emerged from the room she had shared with Irriari for the night. She was sore and aching, but walking with her usual fluid gait nonetheless. She was dressed once again, hair wild and tousled. She was disheveled, but positively glowing with satisfaction. She’d almost hated leaving the cruel lover she had spent the night with. She had just left the Zith sound asleep in the bed in the room, having pressed a kiss to her forehead before she had left. That had been a day and a long night. Just as she made sure that Irriari would never forget Sahiri, Sahiri would never forget Irriari.

She would likely see her around, if the Zith stayed in Ravok. She wasn’t sure she would. The Ebonstryfe was particular about nonhuman races. She could imagine their being annoyed with the forward and haughty female, and breaking her wings off and tossing her into the pits. Sahiri managed well, though, if only because she could, and did pass as human. She kept her animalistic traits very well hidden in public. Failure to do so would well have had her offered up for the highest bidder.

It was barely light out, and she had places to go. She sauntered out into the street. That cute little dress was waiting...

[Verilian]

Sahiri +1 Observation +5 Seduction +1 Dancing (Erotic) +1 Lovemaking Lores: Going Shopping, Using Body Language to Seduce (Basic), Looking past the Monster, Striptease (Basic), Pain can be Pleasure Irriari +4 Observation +3 Seduction +1 Lovemaking Lores: A Different Kind of Hunt, Predator or Prey?, The Puzzle of Sahiri, Giving Sahiri an Out, Watching a Striptease You Question My Logic? : Yes, I award XP for sex. Why? Because people are always afraid to write about it, so when they do I award them. Notes: I think I got a little turned on there, Sahiri. A shame the thread had to be cut short, I was enjoying it.